#also Jekyll and Hyde are physical different

[mxro-x]

It amazes me, how truly clear the change between Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde. You can see the physical difference between them easily, as Jekyll quite literally shrinks into Hyde, becoming smaller and younger than Jekyll himself. The thing is, that it’s so much more than that

Hyde is the personification of the evils within Jekyll, he is anything and everything that Jekyll tries to hide within himself. In some ways he is also simply a projection of the most bitter of humanity. He’s this man with greasy hair and rotting teeth. He drinks and smokes, he holds all the rancid habits that Jekyll suppresses. He’s angry and loud, he fidgets and squirms.

He seems to be the complete opposite of Jekyll, a soured reflection of the older man. Yet in reality he comes from the very depths that make him

[leonenjoyer69]

The sillies :3 and the both colored and not bc I really really like the sketch for this one :3 my old emo playlist has recently creeped back into my life and ofc Migraine by Tøp hits me with this wonderful idea. Also, fun fact, the physical drawing was originally just supposed to be a concept doodle that I was gonna redraw on a different paper but I uh, got carried away..

Anyways!!! Little info dump below the cut on the relationship between the 3 of them bc @dustmint asked about it and I thought I'd share my response here too, teehee

OKAY, SO, HOW JEKYLL AND HYDE ACT TOWARDS HARRY:

I do firmly believe that Hyde fights Harry more Aggressively and outright, on board to do whatever it takes to get rid of him (or at least out of control) , while Jekyll took a bit more convincing (mostly once he was done freaking out over the fact that he's a fraction of a person just like Hyde is). He definitely also hates Harry, but in a more subtle, silent way >:3 instead sorta challenging Harry mentally as opposed to physically, like Hyde wishes to. He's generally more observant and tries to strike when he thinks it best, sometimes his emotions get the best of him tho.

MORE IN DEPTH:

So, once they figure out what/who Harry is from his lil journals in the mind scape, Jekyll may or may not have an identity crisis (he definitely does) but once he kinda gets through that he just feels bad for Harry, being locked away in the mind scape so long and dealing with everything there and such. Plus, Harry is seemingly their whole parts (their previously whole parts, at the least), so Jekyll certainly doesn't want him to die or anything. Hyde doesn't really feel too strongly about him right off the bat, more so just annoyed that Harry took control and now he's stuck in the mind scape with Jekyll.

Though!! Things change once Harry kinda shows his resentment towards the two, saying that he wouldn't be letting them out anytime soon, and revealing how he plans to reverse the potion. This immediately sends Hyde into feral dog mode, trying to use literally everything he can to absolutely break Harry and gain control back. Jekyll is still a bit reluctant for a while, but eventually starts siding more with Hyde, plotting how to gain control back or take care of Harry without killing all of them, bc ofc they don't wanna die.

But yeah, between sending out nightmares, forcing the heart palpitations and such by fighting, or just being a general nuisance (most all of which are usually by Hyde) it's not really surprising that the resentment Harry already had towards them grows lmao.

He does eventually find out that those little phantom strings he can still see around his wrists and such can kinda be used to vaguely control/subdue his other halves. Yeah, he threatens them a lot.

Also!!! Jekyll and Hyde start getting along better, but definitely still bicker and shit occasionally (which tends to piss Harry off a bit, since he's been so fed up with their fighting and refusing to be one for so long, it just ticks him off very easily). Jekyll also feels really jealous of Harry bc of how he seems to be able to fix things so easily (and his blooming relationship with Lanyon ofc)

Anyways!! That's all I got for now lmao. Lots of character development for Harry lately. Man, I really need to start doing stuff with Elias again 💀

Oh also here's a colored version where they're not ghostly:

[ender-cloud]

That new TGS update made me physically ill holy shit! Spoilers under cut

I feel like we all knew that this would happen but I wasn’t actually ready for it, Like god Lanyon you truly were screwed over

THIS MADE ME LIKE AGAHBAGWGAVEVS!!!

Also after this the “I wanted to be the person you needed me to be” makes me just feel so agshabaggas JEKYLLLL!!! It broke my heart and im still not ok.

Even after jekyll admitted it was him Lanyon still wanted to find an excuse how it couldn’t be at first and it’s just like, Lanyon! You can’t be doing this to me man!

Also, just, Jekyll saying that Hyde was a mistake is a punch to the gut, because i get how he can think that but Hyde is still like a part of Jekyll he separated from himself! Does he think that part of himself was a mistake? Or does he think that ever separating Hyde from him was a mistake? Because these two things can have very different meanings.

If he thinks that part of himself was a mistake: he hates a part of himself that he cant control which is something a lot of people experience but its still not ideal, But its also Fucked up, Because Hyde has become his own person and Jekyll is acting like he Dosent exist, like Hyde can’t hear all of this

But on the other hand if he thinks it was a mistake separating Hyde from himself might mean that he can see that maybe it would be better if he still had that part with him and this shows his growth from who he used to be. Finally realizing that it still makes him, him, again something some people need to overcome in real life.

Though it is most likely the first option but i can only hope its the second

I know that Lanyon’s reaction is probably the most important but I really want to see Jaspers and Rachels reactions too because we havent even gotten a glimpse of them in the background and it’s just heightening my curiosity, because Rachel was close to both of them so she’s the one im most interested in after Lanyon.

ANYWAY! BACK TO THE PAIN!!!

Im going to be honest i think Lanyon is valid for this because yes it has been 2 years and He and Jekyll have been friends for long enough to where you would have this trust base relationship.

Also they just got together romantically which would fuck up Lanyons mind even more. Like way to go Jekyll breaking the foundation of trust in a relationship in your first day of being in one. I can see how he might feel like his feelings are being played with, Hyde would avoid him, and ive been mentioning this so often but like if someone you thought was your friend and they had an Alter ego that avoided you wouldnt you be hurt?

I feel like im shitting on Jekyll a lot, and I don’t mean to because I like Jekyll!! Dont get me wrong!!! But you have to admit that it is his fault, he’s not always the victim, its the people around him who’s being affected by his actions. It was Jekyll’s choice to continue to drink the potion, it was Jekyll’s choice not to tell Lanyon, there was no outside force making him do this.

And you can’t say that Hyde was making him continue to drink the potion because for 1; i doubt that in the beginning Hyde would be able to bother him that much only starting out, im sure it was another thing that developed over time with the potions use and 2; as we saw Jekyll could’ve thrown away those potions on his own terms at any time, he didn’t have to make more.

I just wanted to make this known because i feel like it needs to, do i like Jekyll? Yes. Do i feel bad for him? Yes. Do i think he’s the victim in the situation? No, because of the reasons above. But really, I don’t hate Jekyll, and its not like its always his fault, no, but in this situation it was his actions that lead to this.

I got really sidetracked so heres some of the other images i saved because this is getting really long.

Them both crying Makes this so much worse like, these two almost never show their emotions around people, and now in front of everyone they are about to breakdown, it just makes my chest tight, God dammit Sage this Chapter was painful

[tedspankoffskisbignaturals]

Hello time to ask about your ocs hehe

Ok first of all are there any sorts of rivalries between them or are they one big happy family? Pretty much are there any notable relationships between them?

Also I have to ask about Hector Jekyll and Edgar Hyde because I loveee Jekyll and Hyde so so much. Anyways, is it like the original novella where they are pretty much one person but they switch and change both physically and mentally? If so, had this always been happening or was there a potion of some sorts (like in the novella) that caused this? You can also mention other stuff about them if you want :))

Ok now hand over your bones /j

they are NOT one big happy family uh. lets see

everyone hates hector (and edgar). oh and on this point, they are in one body, but they switch! it started more as like.. a bit more similar to how something like did works (i dont know everything about did so take what i say with a grain of salt, and this character is NOT a system), but as the changes got more frequent, more differences in their physical appearances started showing up until they basically look like different people. it was not a potion (unfortunately), just something that started happening!

you cant see it in this but hectors eyes are green and edgars as blue (also old ass drawing im sorry)

anyway! back to rivalries! wirt and hector specifically fucking HATE eachother

jesse hates everyone except mary (and edie, because shes marys friend)

tato is bitchy to most people but doesnt hate any of them. wirt does not like them though, and harley is scared of her

there is some overall bad blood towards nessie after a.... certain event.. but before then, everyone loves her

as for notable relationships!!

wirt and tammy are siblings, obviously

tammy and damien dated once, but it didnt work out. theyre still friendly, though

nessie and lunar have a very sibling relationship

wirt looks up to lunar a lot (lunar does not see himself as a role model and it scares him)

as stated earlier, jesse is super protective over mary, like a guard dog and edie is bffs with mary

harley is besties with wirt, and kinda treats edie like a younger sister when he gets to know her

edie clings to lunar and treats him like an older brother/almost father figure

miss gray is very much like a grandma figure to everyone, but especially carmilla since she was raised there. nessie is like an older sister to her

the horse girls are like. fun cool older cousins to nessie. they helped her with her social transition

tato and lily are dating (but theres one little thing putting their relationship on the rocks... youll see)

lily and damien have a siblingish relationship, she braids his hair

here you go

[analysisn3rd]

The similarities between 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', 'Frankenstein' and 'The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde"

[ID: a venn diagram that consists of three circles. one is light blue and it has "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley in the centre, one is light pink and it has "The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde" by Robert Louis Stevenson in the centre, and the third is a light yellow and it has "The Picture of Dorian Gray". between all three circles is a section that has "fuck around and find out" and "morality". between the pink and the blue circles, there's "science fiction" and "transformation/formation of a creation". between the pink and yellow circles, there's "main character slowly changes, morally, for the worse" and "published within 5 years of one another". between the yellow and blue circles, there's "gothic fiction" and "main character is a (relatively) rich young man. /end ID]

I think that the similarities and differences between these three books are very much worthy of discussion. I’m mainly going to be talking about the section that’s common between all three of the books, as it’s the part that I find most fascinating.

“Fuck around and find out”

All three of these books feature an experiment, of sorts, as its main plot, and this experiment usually ends up causing issues for one of, if not several, the characters. In ‘Frankenstein’ and ‘The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’, the experiment was quite literally the meaning of the word; it was a scientific procedure done to discover, test or prove something.

In ‘Frankenstein’, it was the creation of the monster, the creature to help humans in the chores that were too strenuous or demanding, and in ‘Jekyll and Hyde’, it was the creation of a “potion”, of sorts, that allowed Dr Jekyll to create the body of his “evil” spirit, Mr Hyde, and to switch between the two bodies as he liked. 

However, in ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’, the experiment wasn’t scientific in any way, and it was more of a moral experiment, where Lord Henry convinced Dorian Gray to give his soul up to the painting done by Basil Hallward, and to lead a life of pleasures and hedonism.

I would say, though, that the experiment in ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ could also be viewed as a moral experiment in addition to it being a scientific one, since, despite having separate bodies, Hyde’s traits, his personality and cruelty, was still a part of Jekyll; it stemmed from Jekyll and, through the drug, took a physical manifestation.

All of the three experiments resulted in a formation of a monster, of sorts, where in ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ and ‘Dorian Gray’, the “monster” wasn’t one in the literal meaning of the word, it was just a terrible, immoral and cruel man, while in ‘Frankenstein’, the “monster” was an actual creature, living and feeling just like humans. 

In ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ and ‘Frankenstein’, it was the main character who was carrying out the experiment, whether that be on himself, which was the case in ‘Jekyll and Hyde’, or by creating a new creature, which was the “perfect man” created by Victor Frankenstein. In ‘Dorian Gray’, the creator wasn’t Dorian, the main character, it was Lord Henry, his friend, who wanted to see the outcome of a hedonistic lifestyle, but couldn’t risk it on himself. Dorian, young and beautiful Dorian, however, could withstand it. What’s the worst that can happen to him anyway? If it was Lord Henry instead, he would’ve lost everything he’s ever had.

In all of the experiments, the result causes massive guilt on behalf of the creator. The guiltiest of all, in my opinion, would be Frankenstein, because his intention was to help people. It was to benefit humanity, to relieve them from the difficult work that could, instead, be done by this “perfect man”, he never wanted to hurt anyone. Especially not his beloved. Jekyll is also quite guilty because he never meant to scare Lanyon, or any of his friends, away, and he didn’t want to lose his position in society, the love he received from people, but his guilt wasn’t enough for him to want to change and get rid of Hyde. He liked the pleasure of torturing people, of being cruel and unapologetic about it. The least guilty would be Lord Henry, who, I think, was more scared of and for Dorian than ashamed of what he had done to Dorian. Dorian himself, on the other hand, was guilty, he definitely felt bad for what he did to Sybil Vane and that other girl towards the end of the book, and his guilt was enough to lead to his death, although it never felt real to me.

Morality

All of the books deal with a lot of themes to do with morality and their plotlines are heavily dependent on the morality changes that the characters go through.

In ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ and ‘Dorian Gray’, the main character slowly “loses” their morality and gradually becomes worse. 

In ‘Jekyll and Hyde’, this was because of Jekyll’s discovery of his “darker” side, how he likes to see people wither in pain, how he likes to hurt people and how he likes to be mean and cruel, but because he couldn’t be seen as the one doing all of these atrocious actions, (after all what would the people say?!) he sort of separated those morally different parts of himself into two bodies. 

In ‘Dorian Gray’, this was due to Dorian’s lifestyle shift to a more pleasure-seeking and self-indulgent one, where he did whatever he liked and indulged in all of his interests and fascinations, and, because of his painting, ugly and hidden away from the world, showing all of his sins to nobody, none of the effects of his actions showed on his body, keeping him forever young and beautiful.

In ‘Frankenstein’, the change in morality is for the “better” and it’s a lot more gradual than in either of the two books. The change occurs because of the indescribable amount of guilt that Victor Frankenstein must’ve felt due to what his creation has done. He never meant to create a monster, as I’ve mentioned before, it was the last thing that he wanted to do, he just wanted to help people, and his plan had backfired. I would say that he was initially morally gray, indifferent towards morals and “good and bad”. He never cared about the ethics of science, which is evident because of how he used random people’s corpses to create his “perfect man”, and it was this very creation that helped him shift to a morally “better” side. It made him realize that what he had done, how badly he’s messed up,  and he regretted it so deeply, which made him want to change for the better and, essentially, undo what he had done, to any extent.

A character who might’ve felt similarly would be Lord Henry. He probably had come to the realization that his creation, Dorian living a new and unrestricted lifestyle, is going to lead to horrible outcomes early on in the story, but, and this is what separates and sets him apart from Victor Frankenstein, he was too amused to care. This was what he had always wanted to see and to explore, and now he was getting a front row seat with no damage to his reputation or anything. I would say, though, that he started getting concerned towards the very end, when he realized that there might be another Sybil Vane.

In addition to all of the aforementioned points, all three novels are considered Gothic novels.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

I have a really weird hyperfixation on The Mummy, but not the Boris Karloff or the Brendan Fraser versions, those would be completely acceptable movies to enjoy (and I do so enjoy them)

but I cannot stop thinking about The Mummy 2017 starring Tom Cruise and it's a problem

I love bad movies, I love them so much, I own so many b-grade horror flicks, old classic films with terrible acting and awful special effects, I love absolutely shit tier cgi, I love Ed Wood disasters, I love cult classic bad movies, I love really weird niche bad movies

but this one is like, such a special kind of bad movie, I can't really put my finger on exactly why though?? but I am damn well going to try, in this essay I will-

they fucked up from the get go by casting Tom Cruise, like this movie is sometimes deliberately goofy, but a lot of the time it takes itself very seriously, SO seriously, and I cannot physically take Tom Cruise seriously, he turns every single scene he is in into a joke by virtue of his mere presence

but when they have actual jokes, they are so not funny they cycle back around to being really fucking funny

I am watching this movie fucking whiff every god damn beat it tries to hit and it does it so beautifully it's a god damn marvel

Russel Crowe as Jekyll and Hyde??? I actually somehow missed the part where he introduced himself as Jekyll on my first watch, so the Hyde reveal was a true surprise to me and I was very genuinely disappointed on my second watch when I realised it was not supposed to be a surprise, because that was a really fun reveal

and Russel Crowe seemed to be having an absolute fucking whale of a time as Hyde, I loved every moment he was on screen with his stupid cockney accent, I would watch his movie, I know it would be bad, that's why I want it, because there is nothing quite like a bad movie with an actor still giving 110%

and the mummy character herself? she was supposed to be pharaoh and then her dad had a son with someone else and now this baby is jumping all up in her place like, okay baby murder might not be the coolest thing in the world but like, she's got ambition, she's getting shit done, she's hustlin' like go get it girl I'm rooting for you babe

also when she sucked the life out of some dude and turned him into a shrivelled husk my roommate said 'she could do that to me and I'd thank her' so she's got that going for her, like girl's a half rotten corpse wrapped in decaying bandages and she still slays

and then we have the completely ridiculous female rivalry??? like this mummy could kill this woman SO MANY TIMES and just doesn't???? for reasons?????? like she could literally kill her in an instant at any moment but no they gotta girl fight for a bit because Tom Cruise is at stake and why wouldn't two hot women fight over Tom Cruise right?? right????

nevermind the fact that he has been practically nothing but ✨The WooOOOOooorst✨ to her the WHOLE first act of the movie, oh and uh let's not forget the 'duh huh guy bad at sex' jokes that they just could not put down for a good chunk there (but wait! uh he's good at sex actually she's just being mean because he hurt her feewings)

like, this movie hits every fucking branch of the bad trope tree, this movie is playing bad trope bingo, it is collecting bad tropes like pokemon, it has to have them all

also a really bizarre ongoing American Werewolf in London reference?? it was not unwelcome, it was some of the best comedy in the movie (that is an easy bar to jump btw), the actor had some great wry line delivery, I enjoyed it

I think the biggest issue, and the reason I can't stop chewing on this magnum opus of garbage, is that it reminds me of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, in several different ways

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen also happens to be another of my favourite bad movies, but it falls into the particular genre of bad movies, a fucking cool as shit concept, and some really cool as shit visuals, and some very cool as shit characters, but an absolute swing and a miss on the delivery

The Mummy 2017 starring Tom Cruise has That Vibe to me, there is some cool shit here, we know this because the previous version utilised that cool shit very very well, but this one was the only one who made the villain a woman pursuing a man, and not just any man, the ✨worst✨ man, you did not feel very sorry for this guy, honestly watching him go through the constant torment of being stalked by a bodacious supernatural babe who put a sexy little curse kiss on him was fun, he's a sopping wet little meow meow and I wanna see him thrown at a wall, and I get to see that several times, and it is a delight every time

in the previous movie the mummy went after really likeable characters, people who were just generally nice, a roguish scamp with a heart of gold, or just really hot, seriously that cast was beyond smoking what the fu

I did not like Tom Cruise as a character, and to be fair that was the point, he was supposed to have a redemption arc, the story and his sacrifice at the end were supposed to be about him becoming a better person

but he fucking doesn't??? it's like 'oh boo hoo I have made this great sacrifice and now I am a monster and I did it to save my lady love's life even though we had zero chemistry and I was just ✨The Worst✨ to her' and then he fucks off to go and do the exact same shit he was doing at the start of the movie, fucking around in the desert looking for boy adventures

it was a great ending and I loved it because it was so dumb and also he abandoned the woman he brought back to life to go fuck around with his bro who he also brought back to life, I love that for them, go have some boy adventures you madlads you sure didn't earn it but don't let that stop you, just heterosexually ride off into the sunset together it's fine, she is literally better off without you in every way you made the Correct Decision

and then there's these moments, moments that are treated like big moments, and could be really cool moments, but just don't fucking land

there's a part where Tom Cruise starts talking to the mummy in her own language (they got a psychic bond and shit which is it's own cool little thing we'll get back to that) and everyone is watching like 😮 oooh didn't know he could do that wow there really IS magic bond between them oooh, and it's like a Big Deal and Very Cool

but Tom Cruise just sounds like he's speaking gibberish with a mouth full of novocain???? it doesn't sound cool at all??? it sounds really goofy???? I half expected him to start drooling on himself

then there is the ending, leading lady dies, he completes the ritual to invite the god of death into his body (a fucking baller move honestly), he fights it for control as the mummy attempts to sway the beast inside him to her side, but when he sees his beloved laying dead he fights her off, using his newfound powers to defeat her, and then weeps over his lady love begging for her to wake up

and then as he lets the god inside him loose, a terrible monstrous visage takes him over as he bloodcurdlingly screams in her face WAKE UP!!! and the power within him that he doesn't understand and can barely control listens

she wakes, and sees him hiding in the shadows, unable to face her now that he has become something terrifying

at least that's what I think they thought the scene would be like, it was a little more like, some crappy flashback and speed up effects as he becomes the god of death, a really pathetic and uneventful 1 minute of him fighting for control, after which he has a really pathetic and uneventful 1 minute of fighting the mummy, and then as he screams for his lady love to wake up, we get a shot of some absolutely fucking god awful cgi and the most uninspired monster face I've ever seen

I mean, half seen, it was a very dark shot, in fact most of the movie is shot in the dark, a very blatant attempt to obscure the shithouse cgi

except in one scene where it kinda fucking slapped, where the mummy sucks the life out of some guys, and then reanimates their husky corpses as thralls, the way they stand like jerky unstable puppets being dragged to their feet by unseen strings was actually pretty fuckin' dope and the dark scene obscured the details in just the right amount to make their uncannily decrepit silhouettes appear super creepy

this is the only time that trick works, every other time I just want someone to turn on a fucking torch so I can actually see what the hell's going on

okay now let's get back to that psychic bond thing

our main character was chosen not because he was a descendant, or a reincarnation, or just Looked Real Pretty (although I think she did have the hots for him a leeetle bit which is like, girl raise your standards, it's Tom Cruise, he's about as sexually appealing as a wet potato, you can do better), he had absolutely zero in common with the mummy's original choice for this ritual, in fact that guy was not significant to the story at all, I think he was just some dude who was down for some ritual shenanigans 'cause a hot lady asked him (also he was hotter than Tom Cruise so this is a significant downgrade, I feel like if she had the opportunity to shop around a little she might have picked better)

so Tom Cruise wasn't chosen for any reason other than that he's the one who released her, and she sees this as her way of saying thank you, and I love that, it's real sweet, would love if I opened a door for someone and they repaid me by summoning a god of death into my body, that really shows they care you know?

she gives him a little hallucinatory kissy kiss and then manages to follow him everywhere, while also compelling him to follow her without him really knowing it, there is a very cool part where he's trying to drive away from her, but somehow ends up driving in a circle and falling right back into her clutches, that was cool, that had the potential to even be super fucking creepy, she can manipulate him without him even realising, it doesn't matter where he goes or what he does, he will always somehow find his way back to her, that's so good, I love that

and then back to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comparisons

The Mummy 2017 starring Tom Cruise established a concept of an organisation who hunt down, collect, and research supernatural phenomena, with a leader (Jekyll) who also has ulterior motives and is actually not really the good guy, this movie was also supposed to be part of a monster movie cinematic universe, so this really could have become like, the Universal Monster Movie equivalent of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and I would have watched the hell out of that, and I am crushed that this movie bombed so bad and ruined the whole plan

like could you imagine a whole series as bad as this movie? all culminating together as the most god awful Avengers style team up? fuuuck I want to live in that universe so bad

I think my fascination comes from this ungodly mix of real pure potential, those fleeting super fucking cool moments and concepts that, if given to literally any other actor, could have really been something, and the just pure insane failure to make literally anything in this plot successfully land a hit

somehow this movie felt like the completely dead and soulless corpse of a cheap party clown, while the ghost of something incredible flickered in its eyes

[strangestcase]

In the original novella, we only "see" three characters die. One is Hastie Lanyon, whose death isn't gruesome and startling like Carew's, but that meets an arguably violent end.

While Carew draws the ire of Hyde through simply being at the wrong place at the wrong time, being cordial to the wrong person, being, Lanyon rather doesn't. Instead, it is his act of loyalty towards Jekyll, the man he hasn't talked to in a decade and calls him a pedant when he isn't listening, what kills him. Once again good deeds are punished with death. The difference, though, doesn't just reside in the fact that Hyde never once needs to put a finger on Lanyon to kill him, but the fact that it is a deeply personal loss- on both sides.

Jekyll-as-Hyde correctly assesses that Lanyon will help a friend in need. He himself says that Lanyon would gladly sacrifice his right arm to save him in body and mind, and with those words he convinces him to come to the rescue via bringing Hyde the serum's ingredients from the cabinet, now forbidden to him. And Lanyon is a good man. He's sensible enough to bring a gun with himself, he's kind enough to help Jekyll even though he believes he's finally lost it -and he's not entirely wrong-, and he's open-minded enough to not only chalk up his supernatural hatred of Hyde to a silly personal bias rather than dismiss him as "deformed", but to also fight against it and be nice to him.

No, Lanyon doesn't meet his violent end through physical violence. All he does is fall into Hyde's trap and give in to curiosity. And that's how, in his narration, Chapter 9, we learn what really killed him in Chapter 6, weeks after the events transpired. His mysterious "disease", the thing eating up at him, is the revelation. One of his closest friends -despite it all- has placed his trust upon him, and his reward is to see him at his pettiest, his cruelest, his worst. To learn that his friend was a monster, all along. No. That he turned into one, on his own volition. The choice was his. And now that he's realized it was a dark path to walk, he can't un-walk it. He can't stop, even if he wanted to, cursing himself with a monstrousness that fights back at any attempt at a fix and yet needs to be fixed to save its skin.

There is no "normal" to recover. Jekyll had always carried with him the elements of his destruction- his arrogance and his bile. The revelation that Hyde never really existed destroys Lanyon's static and material worldview, smashing the orderly world he lives in to bits. The revelation that Hyde was created for a specific purpose, and what it was, destroys Lanyon's view of Jekyll as an eccentric but harmless man, a good person with misguided opinions and fanciful theories.

Does Jekyll ever learn of Lanyon's death? Does Utterson ever bring it up behind the scenes, out of the third-person narrator's scope? Will he ever know that his last crime was killing the man that saved his life?

Well... Ironically, Lanyon didn't really save Jekyll's life. He only extended it for a couple of months, prevented Hyde from being arrested and tried and executed for God knows how many crimes of indeterminate nature. After all, if his criminal record killed him of shock, or at least poured salt into the wound, it had to be gruesome. Thanks to Lanyon's intervention Hyde can return to the house as Jekyll and attempt at resuming a normal life, without success. Soon enough he transforms again, and runs out of salts, and is found dead on the floor with the vial he just emptied of cyanide still in his cold hand.

How do we define violence in a world in which body and mind are one? In the world of Jekyll and Hyde, thoughts and ideas are physical, real, tangible. Hyde is, ultimately, a concept, the sketch of a person disguising a fractured mind disguising a sad mad genius that desires to not desire. We can consider Lanyon one of Hyde's victims, but can we call Lanyon's death violent? I would say so. Like Carew, all he ever did, at least within the constraints of the story -a snapshot of a disjointed Gothic world-, was being kind to someone who didn't deserve it.

At the beginning of this post, I said there were three on-page deaths, three deaths we got to "see" in Stevenson's novella. The third death would be Jekyll's. And it is violent, as well- first his original identity dies, unable to be present, made physical, made real, by want of not being able to manifest itself, or rather, by want of not being able to not manifest Hyde's. In a sense, he's run out of opportunities to be "good". If Jekyll can no longer be Jekyll-as-Jekyll, and only has Jekyll-as-Hyde left, Jekyll no longer exists. As he puts it, he's forced to resume Hyde's personality for the last time- to put on a costume that has turned into himself. Hyde never existed as a person, and in the last eight days of his life he has to be, because Hyde is all he's got left of a person.

It's impossible to not think of a suicide, even a suicide by poison, as violent. But Jekyll's death is violent not just because he eventually goes through with his "promise" of sorts that he'll have to die to rid the world of Hyde (and so we have Hyde killing himself if only to not end up in the gallows, fullfilling his ultimate desire, because that's what he, as a concept, was designed to do). It is also violent because by the time he physically dies, he's long gone. He's committed enough violence against himself already, destroying his belongings and thinking of himself as either his oppressive father or his idiot son, depending on what body he's been thrown into at the time.

The horror of Jekyll and Hyde is the horror of the perversion of the intimate, on all levels. Your best friend is not who he claimed to be. Your body as an extension of yourself isn't to be trusted. Helping others gets you killed. Edward Hyde pollutes everything he touches- breaks into a homicidal rage at someone being polite at him, accidentally curses his savior with the decay of the soul, self harms in the most twisted way possible and dies two times, brings the worst in all those that look at him, brings terror into your house, ruins the night, and breaks the peace.

It is only logical that something -someone?- that ruins everything to its very core comes from within, and is ultimately the cause for three very twisted, and violent, forms of death.

[theweirderstuffblogdontlook]

So I made a yandere au for Bob Velseb of Spooky Month.

So the jist of it, is I call it the "possession au". (Or possible alternatives like the “inner demon au”)

The idea is that the cult has more than one kind of supernatural amulet, essentially giving them a few extra supernatural tools for growing the influence of the cult.

One of these alternate tools, is a two part amulet that let's someone posses the body of their target. Which the cult uses to infiltrate places of existing power and control people like politicians and big business owners.

Though the nature of the possession isn't like detaching your mind to control someone, it's way more body horror than that.

It's more like sharing a body. Being able to hide your actual physical body in another person. Almost like a venom symbiote situation, but without turning into goo.

Bob intends to exploit the effects of this to become literally inseparable from the target of his affections.

And also being able to do a lot of really horny things with some of the in between states from being able to body swap between him and his target.

The au mostly allows for Bob to do absorption vore, but it’s got versatility and plenty of horror themes beyond that as a narrative concept.

Bob can also use this to hide in public. Either to accomplish his own goals through taking full control, or to be a passenger and basically stalk his target from the inside. (Plus all the anxiety inducing effects that could involve for the possessed target, cus they’d be literally walking around with a cannibal murderer that could pop out at any time.)

When in agreement and working together though, this being able to shift back and forth between two people, or split and rejoin, can actually be a pretty formidable skill.

Almost like a Banjo and Kazooie situation. Having different sets of skills and different strengths and weakness. And being able to stretch out their stamina by having one person active while the other takes a break.

As it says in the images, the current target of Bob’s yandere affections is just a placeholder person. Yall are free to use the concept as you like either with your own oc’s or whatever.

I put some more thoughts on it under the readmore.

So I think it’s cool to have like two very different people for this situation, so it’s fun to put them in “situations” where they have to get a bit creative to work through em.

So with Bob being big, strong, heavy, slow, scary, confident, and supernaturally augmented to be more physically resilient, but easily distracted and impulsive. You pair that up with someone who is small, fast, careful, calculating, and focused, and that covers a lot of Bobs weaknesses.

Plus, the whole being able to switch between two people with very different bodytypes could make the duo very slippery beyond just Bob being able to hide in public. For instance, Bob being able to slip out of handcuffs by swapping arms with his smaller captive. Or if the smaller captive gets put in handcuffs, he can just reach his arms out of their body to grab at whoever has tried to capture her and kill them.

As well as being better at climbing and squeezing through narrow gaps. Like Bob seeing a small window, switching to his captive, who’s able to climb up and squeeze through, and the switch back to Bob once inside.

Plus the whole jekyll and hyde opportunity is fun for drama. Like Bob trying to get an otherwise pretty normal person to participate in his heinous acts, while the captive tries to reign in and redirect Bob.

Like having a moment where Bob is like,

“So, If you’ve got such a disapproval of the people I pick, who would you rather be killing?”

“I’d Rather Not Be Killing Anyone!! Let Alone Eating Them!! But... Fuck! I dunno, Nazis? Genuinely bad people???”

Also I wrote a bit of a short fanfic concept to show off the mood of the Au.

So something gets dropped behind a metal grate, and the gap is too narrow for Bobs hand, so she offers to grab it.

But she takes the opportunity to trap him, as when the arm is reached in, she quickly pulls out and replaces her arm with Bobs much thicker arm, getting it wedged in there real tight, and breaks free and runs while Bob tries to get his arm unstuck as he gets mad and yells after her.

She quickly grabs some money on the way out, hails a taxi, and gets driven to the airport.

Though the only flight she can afford is a cheaper one that won't leave for a few hours, so she has to wait.

She starts to nod off waiting in the airport seating as the adrenaline wears off, and a sweaty looking Bob, a big bruise on his forearm from where his arm was caught, sneaks up behind and grabs her with a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.

Pushing her against his chest and absorbing her into his torso as she thrashes and tries to get free.

He then calmly leaves the airport, gets into a car with blood splatter of the interior that he clearly attacked someone to steal, and drives off.

And once back at "home”, she gets let out of him, and she can incredulously ask how the hell he had been able to find her, as even if he had a lucky guess about her going to the airport, trying to find someone in an airport is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

To which he kinda smugly taps his chest where the embedded half of the possessor amulet is.

"Oh, I know where you are. Doesn't matter how far you run my little chicken wing, I'll always know where to find you."

Which is how she learns that the commanding half of the possessor amulet can track the location of the other half of the amulet.

[givemeanaccountalready]

A Who-Swung-It Mystery: The Case of the Switch-Hitter (2/3)

1 / 2 / 3

Another fun fact before the cut, did you know that the term sinister, meaning evil or lurking danger, comes from the Latin term sinister, meaning of the left side? Its antonym, dexter, means on the right side.

Just the warning one more time: despite the humorous title, I want to be serious for a second. I am not a licensed psychologist/psychiatrist/licensed social worker/etc., and I am certainly not an expert on dissociative identity disorder (DID). My knowledge of this disorder comes from the research I have done to try and understand it. I am trying to be as respectful as possible towards the subject matter, and I sincerely apologize if I show a lack of understanding and will do my best to correct it. Any mention of DID is more focused on switching since we haven't got a clue as to how Mikoto developed DID, and the how isn't really important to the murder itself.

Again, I apologize for the length. Building a case against Mikoto has been a proper pain in my ass because of the constant misdirection from John. If you missed it, I argued that based on the behavior shown by Mikoto and John, I believe that Mikoto is the killer and John is attempting to shield him by taking full responsibility. John's acts of erasing what Mikoto has done led him to believe that his murder of the blond, young man seen in MeMe was just a bad dream. I also drew a connection between Mikoto and John and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I just find it fascinating that John is depicted as the Hyde to Mikoto's Jekyll, but instead of wreaking destruction, John provides Mikoto with protection by playing into the evil alter trope and claiming he had been the one to kill. I also talked about switch-hitting and why batting left, despite being naturally right-handed, is something Mikoto would do, not John.

If you'd like to start violently shaking me again, feel free!

One or Two: How Many Alters are There?

Ultimately, my theory hinges on the belief that it is just Mikoto and John. Initially, I believed that there was only Mikoto and another personality (the dual personalities, collectively called Bokuto and Orekoto until Neoplasm). Then, after seeing some really good Trikoto arguments (Aokoto, Akakoto, Midorikoto) that justified it with the existence of a third personality, I started believing it too. Now, I'm hearing that Yamanaka debunked the Trikoto theories when Double was first released, I'm back to thinking that there are just two personalities: Mikoto and John. Although, I would not be upset if Trikoto was right. Those were some really thorough arguments using lighting, and I ended up looking back at the use of lighting when I was analyzing MeMe.

A huge part of the Trikoto arguments were the use of blue, red, and green lighting throughout MeMe. That is when I noticed something about the red light. While red light overwhelms the mental mindscape whenever John appears, the use of red light in the physical world is rather minimal and only used twice. Both times that it is used the physical world, it involves the victim's point of view (the left-handed swing and the implied burial), and the red light is a small amount reflected off of Mikoto's eyes.

MeMe's Use of the Mental and Physical World

In MeMe, we can very clearly see the difference between the physical world and Mikoto's mindscape. There are no moving parts to it, and it is isolated to one location. His mindscape is combines the layout of his studio apartment (we can see his couch, coffee table, and TV stand) with the crumbling tile walls that seem to come from his bathroom. The physical world in MeMe depicts various locations, starting with the scene of the crime and ending inside of Mikoto's apartment. We are also shown two scenes where John gets rid of evidence by burying the body (implied by the dirt being tossed over the camera) and throwing out the bloodied clothing in the dumpster (explicitly shown).

The physical world scenes use green-blue tints, and I found that the use of more green lighting than blue or vice versa is subjective to a viewer's definition of which color is more dominant and it is inconsistent, making it difficult to tell who is fronting. Personally, I think it is used to help misdirect the audience because the color of the lighting and the behavior of Mikoto and John are inconsistent.

The mindscape does not have this problem. Not only does it have a stark division between Mikoto and John by using the peaceful blue water to represent Mikoto and the stained water/red blood to represent John, but it also has blue mindscape Mikoto and red mindscape John behave how we expect them to (Mikoto is confused and pleading while John is mocking and menacing). It's pretty clear that the image Yamanaka wanted when we think of John is red = aggression. Perhaps the overkill of red light in the mindscape is to make it clear that John is now fronting and in control, while the minimal use of in the physical world is to highlight how hidden DID can be or how switching can be ignored or written off. In addition to the lighting, I would like you to also take a look at the use of eyes, tarot cards, and right-left dichotomy in MeMe.

At the very beginning of MeMe, there is a red haze over the mindscape and we see who we can presume to be John pick up the camera and smile at the audience. Then it cuts to the two large tarot cards of the Hanged Man (reversed) overlapping the Fool (upright) in the blue mindscape. The reversed Hanged Man is on the right while the upright Fool is on the left. From what I can tell, a reversed Hanged Man seems to mean that a person feels as though they are sacrificing a lot without getting much in return or it is not turning out the way one would expect it should. Knowing what we know about Mikoto's workplace, this might be referring his boss overworking him with unrealistic expectations. It overlaps the upright Fool card, which usually represents new beginnings. This could refer to John's 'birth' but I think it probably represents Mikoto being hired at his company. The stress from the overwhelming work load now overshadows this amazing new opportunity.

We cut to the train tracks to witness the part of the meeting and murder of the blond man. If you look at the area, it’s secluded and dark. It’s not a place where you just take a stroll. Mikoto is waiting for someone. There is no bat, and it looks like Mikoto is loosely holding his phone in his hand. We cannot make out his expression, much less see his eyes. Then we jump forward to the victim’s point of view to see Mikoto ready himself for a left-handed swing. His arms make it hard to see his expression, but we can make out his left eye, which is reflecting red light. During the right-handed overhead swing, implied to be the kill swing, we cannot see Mikoto’s eyes. And, I didn't realize this when I first watched MeMe and Double, but MeMe actually does pose the idea that Mikoto seems to believe that he dreamed of killing a person, something Double insists on. The lyrics during the murder shown in MeMe ask, “How long would this dream go on?”

When Mikoto returns to his apartment, Yamanaka avoids showing us his eyes at first. After taking off his shirt, it looks as though Mikoto is looking back at the audience, but his hair is blocking most of his right eye. We then cut to him on the couch for the "Switch / Shake up that brain" line where we can see his left eye but his bangs hide his right eye completely. Then, we are first transported to the blue, clean water mindscape where his right eye is the one that opens. I think this is the early evidence that we are meant to associate Mikoto with his right side and John with his left, because there is so much left and right action going on in both songs that I'm getting a headache. Back to the couch, Mikoto reaches for a tarot card, and the mindscape world turns dark and has a laid out array of tarot cards overlaid his stacked deck where Mikoto first picks the Devil (upright) tarot card. The upright Devil tarot card usually signifies depression, addiction, or despondency. This could be the stress from being overwhelmed with work. It is supported by the glitchy cut following this, where we see Mikoto come into his apartment late at night and break down into tears.

Again, we cannot see Mikoto's eyes when he disposes of the trash bag and his bloody beanie or when he brushes his teeth (right side of his mouth, actually) while his left cheek is splattered with blood. We have more focus on the left-right split where Mikoto has his left hand beside the bathroom mirror as John looks on in concern. And then we see Mikoto's right (and visibly covered by his sweater sleeve) hand rest beside the mirror as John gives the creepy, menacing smile. Mikoto reels backwards and the Devil tarot card falls into his lap. Coincidentally, John doesn’t appear in the mindscape again until the Devil tarot card falls a second time and hits the water of the mindscape, turning it blood red. It almost seems accidental, with Mikoto watching the tarot card fall to the ground in horror. John stands behind him menacingly, but his eyes are hidden. We don’t yet know his intentions, but with the menacing red light, we are led to believe that they are bad. The Devil tarot card being repeated three times could signal Trikoto, but I think this may just be to establish John's existence before Mikoto got his current job. He has been there, watching Mikoto with concern (first mirror appearance), and then John was proud of being able to intervene with something that had happened, possibly creating the blackmail material (hence the proud smile in his second mirror appearance). Neither mirror appearance is directly preceded by a Devil tarot card. The second mirror appearance actually comes before the tarot card. I could see the mirror appearances predating the Devil tarot card as a sign that John attempts at helping Mikoto relieve his stress only made things worse, leading directly to the murder.

After we see John in the mirror a second time, Mikoto seems to stumble backwards before he falls while the lines, "Why am I here? / It must be a mistake? / Take a good look at me / Until you find me" plays. I would argue that this is when Mikoto meets with his victim. They're two adults meant to talk things out. This is just a mistake that can be cleared up. This is when we see the Devil tarot card-for the second time overall-fall into his lap. The victim lays out his blackmail threat. Mikoto is despondent, and when he picks up the card, the image burns away. The lyrics played are, "The truth will come to reveal itself / I will NEVER forgive you if this is happening to me even though I'm right" and I think this is when the seriousness of the situation hits. The mindscape is still blue as Mikoto sings, "All those ridiculous accusations" and then when the Devil tarot card falls to the ground, the mindscape glitches from blue to red to blue to red for "Hurting it / Holding it down". Now, this could be a sign of Mikoto starting the murder (at minimum, he delivers the first, left-handed swing of the bat) and John ends it by disposing of the evidence. Who delivered the second, deadly swing can be debated. I lean towards Mikoto delivering the deadly blow, and I will get to it in a minute.

This third appearance of the Devil tarot card directly precedes John's appearance in the mindscape, implying that John took over during some immensely triggering event. Based on how Mikoto seems to be frozen with horror during this time, I think this was when Mikoto realized that he had killed someone (hence the "My life... it wasn't supposed to be this way," glitched line from the first voice trailer. He cannot comprehend what he had just done, and John took over to dispose of the evidence, so Mikoto can just disregard this as a dream. Because Mikoto and John are both present for, "It doesn't change anything, does it / It's the same anywhere I go / It's like what's wrong isn't wrong / I'm already the fake one" it is hard to tell who is singing, but the self-pitying language makes me think of Mikoto, not John. Mikoto just wants to go along and get along but everyone around him insists on making trouble. First the victim threatening to get him fired, then Es insisting that his little dream was reality, and then Kotoko attacking him.

I think that when the mindscape turns red a second time, it is supposed to represent the switch during John Doe. Mikoto is pleading for Es to answer him and truly see his reality, “Why am I here? / It must be a mistake, right? / Take a good look at me / Until you find me,” and then he snaps, briefly turning the mindscape red on an overhead view. It’s almost as if the switching is done on purpose. From what I've read, forcing alters to switch can happen, but it is not advised because of the potential repercussions within the system. More than likely, Mikoto snapping before switching with John symbolizes Mikoto facing another trigger, this time the reality that his dream of killing someone wasn't a dream, and then John taking over to protect that belief. But it’s John’s behavior and the lyrics that we see while the mindscape turns red again that I want to focus on: “Hey why, / I’m nowhere to be found / So / I will NEVER forgive you if this is happening to me even though I’m right”

John is taking Mikoto's words and actions as his own. He takes the passive aggressive remark of Mikoto's refusal to forgive and makes it a clear threat and draws the tarot card. He doesn't do it the same way, though, because this time he clearly shows off the tarot card rather than letting us look over his shoulder. John has his eyes closed, upturned to match his smile, and then they open as his expression turns cold. While his eyes are closed, we see the back of the tarot card, and when they open, he turns the card so we can see it. It’s the Fool tarot card, which again, generally signifies new beginnings. We flash to more tarot cards lying on the table before John pulls out the Death (upright) tarot card and then John moves to punch the camera. As many people have already stated, the Death tarot card doesn't mean actual death, and usually signifies a major change has already come, is currently happening, or will come soon. With the Fool and Death tarot cards combined, John is making it clear that his role as Mikoto' protector is now going to become proactive as he plays up the idea that he is the uncontrollable, evil Hyde to Mikoto's even-keeled and good Jekyll.

I'll admit that this theory of mine has its weaknesses. Primarily, it's the stupid blood splatter on Mikoto's face while he is in the physical world. When he strips off his bloodied clothing, there is a blood splatter on his right cheek, but when he buries the victim, the blood splatter is now on his left cheek, not his right. In the shower while he brushes his teeth, the blood splatter is on his left cheek. That pokes a hole in my only one victim theory. There is a chance that since the blood stain on his right cheek is very close to where his jawline and ear meet that the clod of dirt and the angle we see Mikoto at hide it during the burial scene. Just like how there's a chance that John took more care to make sure Mikoto's right side was clean since Mikoto is associated with the right side and John with the left. It is a weak defense. I can admit to that. But I hope I've provided enough evidence to help support my argument. Maybe that right cheek bloodstain is related to the blackmail material.

Why I think that it's John disposing of the evidence... it's like how I said it in the last post; while John is trying to be more proactive by taking the blame for everything to protect Mikoto, John is more reactive and less careful than Mikoto. In John Doe, John literally beats the shit out of Es, someone who holds the fate of Mikoto in the palm of their hand. Most people would not antagonize and threaten someone with that kind of power. John is short-sighted, and until he's restrained and forced to think and plan during Neoplasm, John's pretty terrible at actually helping Mikoto. Yes, we see him bury what we can presume to be the victim, but we don't know what happened to the murder weapon (the baseball bat that should be covered in blood and dents) and the bloody beanie was not stuffed inside the garbage bag before being tossed into the dumpster. The dumpster isn't very tall. Anyone could look in and see the blood-stained beanie. Despite showering to get rid of the blood on him, Mikoto clearly strolls into his apartment covered in blood splatters. Anyone could have seen him. Yes, he technically took care of ridding the blood evidence off himself, but John doesn't seem to have taken any precautions, like maybe turning his clothes inside out to try to hide the bloodstains. Mikoto is someone with a five-year-plan and takes the safer options in life to avoid messing it up. John wings it. And sure, it is very hard to prosecute someone for murder if you don't have a body, but I won't lie, I can easily see John deciding to bury the victim and murder weapon together so he can decrease the amount of time he has to spend at the crime scene. I know that it's not in the garbage bag, because you'd see an oblong object distorting the bag's round shape.

Now, why a dream? Well, the idea of losing his dream job and tanking his career before it even started is probably the scariest nightmare Mikoto could ever have. Denial is his modus operandi. He probably went to the tracks to meet his victim to try and talk things out like two proper adults should. John would have come out swinging as soon as he saw the blond. Mikoto, on the other hand, thinks this is just a mistake that can be talked out. When he sees the blackmail material, he believes it's too ridiculous lie, because how could he, the calm, kind Mikoto take pleasure in hurting someone? This can't be real. It has to be a dream, and in dreams, there are no consequences. And so he loses his temper and strikes. When the red haze of his temper lifts, he realizes what he has done and breaks. John takes over to spare him from this immense pain. He gets rid of any evidence (not well, but still) so Mikoto can wake up in the morning and sincerely believe that all he did was have a bad dream. A nightmare he just can't quite fully shake, if you want to look at the lyrics during the murder: "If I could go back / I'd play dead even though I'm alive right? / If I could end / If I could stop / How long would this dream go on?"

1 / 2 / 3

[marnieorange]

𝐉𝐞𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐥, 𝐔𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧, & 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬.

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warnings; none! reader is indicated to be female. victorian era themes. courtship and engagement mentioned :)

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𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐉𝐞𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐥

𖤓 The courtship with Henry is very different to the marriage itself, I believe

𖤓 I generalise the idea that he tries his best to prove himself to you during the courtship and engagement; giving you expensive gifts and accompanying you at parties.

𖤓 But when you are married to him, you see what he is actually like.

𖤓 Not that it is anything too bad to start with, but it is definitely not picture perfect in terms of his presentability.

𖤓 The wedding would be wonderful, don't get me wrong! I believe Henry would enjoy the day (and night) immensely.

𖤓 As a husband, he would do his best. That is what is expected, anyway.

𖤓 But I feel like you would have to deal with a lot of burnouts from him, which usually end up with him relying on you more than you rely on him.

𖤓 Despite this, Henry is an entertainer to a degree.

𖤓 Being married to him, in the early stages (pre-Hyde) means having - and perhaps hosting - dinner parties with Lanyon, Utterson, and other friends.

𖤓 And on celebrations, perhaps a ball or two.

𖤓 He isn't the best romantically once you get to know him. He overthinks, wonders if he comes off too forward. But after you give him reassurances, I feel like he'd be less stressed and actually savour your romantic moments honestly and tenderly.

𖤓 I believe his love languages would be words of affirmation (mainly), then quality time and physical touch.

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𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐔𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

𖤓 Gabriel John Utterson. Where to begin?

𖤓 Worried and awkward during the courtship, I assume. But I feel like he would loosen up during the engagement.

𖤓 Everyone knows he's boring, reserved, distant... so when you put forth any romantic display of affection for the first time, whether that be a compliment or asking him to dance with you at a ball, he would be confused.

𖤓 I also think he's slow when it comes to love. He's Victorian, he knows what's expected during it... but actually having it? He's confused.

𖤓 Because of this, you would likely have to be the one to initiate the relationship.

𖤓 In the engagement, he's more... jittery. Excited, even. Like, he can't believe you actually want to marry him.

𖤓 He is... the most sweet husband, honestly.

𖤓 Being a lawyer is tiring, too much stress - paperwork - but he always puts the effort in to love you.

𖤓 Romantic dinners and drinking wine together would be common, I imagine. Talking until the late hours... It would be lovely.

𖤓 His main love language would be quality time. But minorly, I think he would enjoy words of affirmation and giving gifts.

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𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧

𖤓 I am the biggest Lanyon lover. Don't even get me started!

𖤓 He is so respectful. His inital proposal would have to be through talking to your father before hand, making sure he has approval.

𖤓 He's a Victorian gentleman, after all! It is expected.

𖤓 Your father saying yes would be the highlight of his life. He's a dreamer, but he believes in tradition. His thoughts would be full of your future together during the engagement.

𖤓 Like Jekyll, I believe him to enjoy dinner parties also. As a way to allow your friends to know of your engagement, Hastie definitely had a get together.

𖤓 He's so in love with you, honestly.

𖤓 On the wedding day he almost forgets to say 'I do,' needing prompting from the officiant to quit staring at you and actually talk.

𖤓 As a husband, he's absolutely perfect - much like Utterson. You'll have dates together, drink to late hours... And unlike Jekyll, he does not get burnt out frequently - win win!

𖤓 In fact, when he does eventually have his disagreement with Henry, I feel like that would be one of the first times in which he explicitly asks for your support.

𖤓 It's not like you do not support him, of course you do! But it would have been one of the only times, I imagine, that he'd straight up ask for help.

𖤓 In my opinion, I feel like acts of service is his main love type. But physical touch follows closely. Hastie seems like the kind of hand to hold your hand and interlink your fingers at dinner or on walks.

[jo-harrington]

As Above, So Below - Chapter 4: Malum Malus

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3 - Crucible

Summary: The past haunts you, tempts you, but now you need to come to terms with it before it ruins your chances to save Hawkins from the Darkness.

Word Count: 16.3k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Original Character (Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Van Helsing Inspired, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Death and Injury, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Major Character Deaths, Grief, Mourning, Yearning, Discussion of the Upside Down, Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Smut, Sexual Tension, Ambiguous Sexual Identity, Unspoken Confidence in Sexual Identity, Psychological Manipulation, Dub-Con, Non-Verbal Consent, Vaginal Fingering, Grinding/Humping, Groping, Sexual Activity with Multiple Partners, Bloodletting, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References

Note: Wow what a weird month. Remember when I said I wanted to get 2 chapters out in October? Wild. Gonna stress the importance of reading the warnings in this one. We dive into some…dicey territory especially at the end. Do not give into the temptation. Or do. That's kind of…exactly what this chapter is about. (But seriously read the warnings.)

This series will not be for the faint of heart, nor is it something that was written with a general audience in mind. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also.”  - Robert Louis Stevenson, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

October 11, 1987

You were filled with a horrible sadness.

Worry.

You were alone...together alone.

He'd banished the others so he could focus on this...disgusting undertaking, but he'd put an obvious distance between the two of you purposefully. So he could do as he wished without your pitiful interference.

You knew this would be good for him: a singular focus, a task, a distraction. The end result would bring him to the light...but deep down you were worried he would be tempted further off the path as he forged through the darkness to get there.

"Be careful," you reminded him as the infernal red lightning flashed overhead. "You don't know what this will do."

"This will change things," he hissed excitedly. "It'll be different. It'll be perfect."

"Please." His hunger, his desire...it was palpable and overwhelming, saturating your surroundings. "Just...wait."

"It's just a little grave robbery," he chuckled darkly and closed his eyes. His form grew, large and imposing, and his hands reached for the heavens. "Everything will work out. You'll see."

"It's forbidden. Unholy."

He rolled his eyes and grinned at the challenge.

"You'll be here," he reasoned. "If anything goes wrong...you'll be here to fix it. You'll fix everything. Everything will be better. Soon."

He threw himself at the ground and drove his claws into the dirt, reaching...reaching...until the both of you shouted in pain at the resulting surge that tore through the Upside Down.

That tore through you.

You fell to your knees as you felt it pull at your heartstrings, as it ripped through your limbs, and you prayed...you prayed that everything would work. Because if it didn't...it would kill you.

And Eddie would be lost.

"You'll see," he sounded desperate now as he willed his little experiment to succeed. "Triumph over God. Over fate. We'll be together. Forever. Finally."

October 12, 1987

Deep below the Vatican laid the skeletal remnants of the Sanctuary of the Knights of the Holy Order. It was no longer in use--hadn't been for over a century--but it was there. Waiting. Kept as a reminder that mistakes had been made and lessons learned.

It had been a barracks, a place to train and rest, and mostly, a place to reflect and pray. To know oneself was to know God, because He lived inside them all. Through Him, they could overcome any challenge they faced.

Challenges that, occasionally, lived inside as well. Conflict between what was Good and what was Right.

Because the Sanctuary had also been a dungeon. A prison. A lab.

The Friars had been tasked to maintain the Sanctuary in those early days, to create weapons to aid in the fight when the Heavenly powers fell short. But in order to defeat something, you had to understand it. Creatures of Darkness had been captured, imprisoned, studied.

All of the books about the supernatural that you’d studied in your adolescence only existed because of the Order and the Friars of the Sanctuary.

But it was soul-splitting, hardening labor, and though the intentions were good…they were unethical. Unholy. But wasn’t that the way? Terrible things done in the name of goodness…were considered good no matter how terrible they were.

It wasn't until the Napoleonic Wars--when the Knights had been the worst kept secret in Europe after the conquest of the Papal States, as they did the bidding of the insidious Emperor--that everything changed. When Pope Pius VII returned from his banishment and saw that the Knights had been used for the bidding of one over the good of all, he reformed the Order.

All the dark deeds done in the name of good were buried. All of the research and experiments stopped.

And the Sanctuary closed its doors for good...

...except to you.

Where all the other Knights were anointed under the light of the moon, under the watchful eye of heaven, and were gifted with a blessing...your forefathers...you...were banished to the depths to make your vow.

That had been your first stop after you'd left Hawkins, so you could take the Oath properly.

You'd been led down the dusty winding staircase and made to explore the dank hole that still carried the stench of corruption and failure. You'd shined a light over the centuries-old dusty tomes, touched bones of saints, and viewed the body of your ancestor--the one who had turned down the offer of penance, the one who had killed his Pope--unnaturally preserved and kept on display.

He was a reminder, for your family and your family alone, of what would happen should you fail your life's purpose.

What a jarring experience, to speak the vow and then have your hand cut open to pour blood onto the knife still embedded in his heart.

They'd left you then, the Knights who'd brought you there, once they were sure you had taken the first solid steps on the path fate had in store for you. They clapped you on the shoulder, offered the briefest of congratulatory words, and then left you to, once again, crawl and climb through dark, unfathomable depths.

In hindsight, it was just a load of shit.

But for the briefest moment, you felt right. This had been the right choice, a birthright rather than a curse, and your determination would guide you to your ultimate goal.

It was a transcendent, euphoric experience akin to the moment you had realized you loved Eddie. You felt reborn once again.

Emboldened by this newfound confidence, you took the winding pathway back and you explored. The temptation was too strong. You read the tomes, you slashed through the air with a forgotten old sword inscribed with the Oath of the Order.

And you giggled as you pushed an old door open and found what you thought was an apothecary of some sort. You shined your flashlight over a set of shelves that was stacked with dusty old specimen jars labeled in antiquated script.

Your thoughts had immediately turned to Eddie; how the two of you had spent several hours making old pasta sauce jars look dusty and crusty and filled them with cornstarch, water, and food coloring for his Halloween campaign.

Venenum. Bilis. Sanguis.

You had intended to take a closer look when you kicked a jar that had been on the ground. Old and misshapen, it rolled into the shadows and you followed it. Several yards, until it hit a solid object and stopped.

The light of your flashlight hit the label first, Phlegethos Sanies, and you reached out to grab the jar.

Then you dragged the beam of your flashlight up and up, further and further.

Until you came face to face with a hulking skeleton with a horned skull.

A minotaur.

Chained to a chair, its head tilted back and jaw opened wide in a perpetual silent scream.

It was an unexpected sight and in your shock, your finger brushed the dusty, withered limb, and you saw.

Saw the atrocities committed all those years ago, heard the endless whines and screams that echoed against the stone, felt the pain that surged through every single creature that had been set upon that chair. That had been cursed to live out their final days in this place. In the name of Good. In the name of Heaven.

Your joy suddenly diminished and dread flooded you.

You already knew that the Sanctuary brought anything but sanctity to those who entered its depths, but to see it...to experience it in such a way--

"Go," the spirits warned. They amplified everything that you had felt less-than in the two short decades of your life and made you aware that while you were here as a Knight, you were very much other. Just like them. "You don’t belong here. Go. Before they get you next."

--would last with you forever.

That memory was what flashed before your eyes now as Steve threw Billy's unconscious body into the folding chair in the garage. As he and Robin wound rope around his body, and then latched handcuffs to his wrists. As they argued between each other and then spat accusations at you.

"He was dead!"

"How the fuck is he back?"

"What did you do? How did you do this?"

Mary Victoria stood beside you resolutely, and spat sharp words right back at them.

“She didn’t fucking do anything!” She leaned closer to you and muttered under her breath. “Did…did you do this? It’s fine if you did I just…need to know if I need to kick someone’s ass if they come after you.”

“I didn’t,” you reassured her numbly.

“Ok good. Good. We can work with this,” she nodded.

You tried to feel a little proud of her. She was dealing with all of this madness with more strength and composure than anyone had given her credit for.

Did she get a little—

“Shut the fuck up Harrington, stop pointing fingers.”

—enthusiastic? Yes.

However, you had yet to check on her, and if your state of mind was anything other than WHAT it was at that very minute, you would have dragged her out of this room so she wouldn't have to bear witness to what followed.

Because you could feel that it would not be pretty; feel it in the very marrow of your bones.

Watching a man crawl from a grave...to see him reach out to you before he collapsed...and then to have to haul him back to wherever it was you had come from...had been a draining task.

Especially when you did your best not to touch his skin.

The others didn't seem to have that hang up though, as they manhandled him, seemingly debated one another over what the rest of his life might look like locked up in this garage.

"How are we gonna keep him here forever? He's gonna need food, water, clothes."

"Maybe he'll just wake up and be normal?"

"Hargrove? Normal? Pfft."

"Do we need duct tape? Just in case?" Robin asked warily, her hand going to her mouth so she could chew on her thumb nail in contemplation. "He was pretty strong last time...with the Mind Flayer and everything."

"I don't think we need to worry about that," you finally spoke up, ready to get the show on the road. "Resurrection takes a lot out of you; it'll take a good amount of time for him to wake up, let alone be strong enough to do any harm."

Of course you were immediately proven wrong as he gained consciousness with a strangled gasp and coughing fit. Everyone jumped as they startled.

"What the fuck! What the fuck!" Robin backed as far from him as she could.

"Maybe you're not the expert on this that you think you are," Steve accused harshly.

"Alright he's awake now. What do we do? Douse him in holy water? Just start asking questions?"

"Can you guys shut up," Dustin hissed from the door to the garage. "Before we wake someone up. That someone being Nancy. You know she's gonna be pissed off when she finds out about this."

"Respectfully," Mare spat. "Fuck Nancy. Who put her in charge here? I'll fight her."

"Yeah we have a literal zombie tied to a chair," Steve scoffed. Unexpectedly, your curiosity was piqued and your mind began to race. "There aren't rules for this."

"Funny you say that," you took a step forward, closer to Billy, whose head hung limply as he took calculated breaths. As if he'd never taken a breath before now.

"What, there are rules?"

"Yes and no. More like...guidelines." You waved a hand dismissively. "And I meant...more your use of the word zombie. The origin of...zombie...is--"

"Listen, you gave us a lesson in vampires and resurrection last night too. But does it really matter?" Robin questioned.

You paused and looked around the garage.

Four faces stared at you expectantly, as though they were simply waiting for the next thing to happen. No silly lore, no story, no explanation of what would come next. Dustin and Mare looked curious enough, but it had been a long day and a longer night. They didn't have the patience.

For a moment, you were transported again.

Reminded of another life. Other lives.

One lonelier, so much lonelier. Twenty-some-odd years spent so obviously separate from everyone else, mostly silent as decisions were made for you; thoughts and opinions and words buried deep that would never matter because your fate was already written. And then another, where you were seen and understood. Your silly stories were shared and embraced. Appreciated and loved. Not just by one person, by many...but because of one person.

It had been years since you had walked away from it...but had taken just as long, it took until right this second, to resign yourself that you might never have it again.

You shot a tight, apologetic smile at the others and then crouched down in front of Billy. You gently called his name.

"Can you hear me?" You asked. "Billy?"

He groaned and raised his head weakly, his bloodshot eyes slightly unfocused until they landed on you. He fought against the restraints for a moment, but you held your hands out to try and calm him.

"Don't...we have you tied up, but don't be afraid. It's just a precaution. You're safe here."

His shoulders heaved for a moment but he relaxed.

"Good. Now...we have some questions. Do you know where you are?" You looked at the others and then back at him. "Do you know who you are? Recognize anyone here?"

He stared at you.

"Billy?"

Just kept staring.

"This is going nowhere," Steve sighed.

"No, no, it's disorienting," you explained. "Give it a second. How long has he been dead for? Two years? Almost three?”

“His body doesn’t look like Barb’s.” Robin noted. "Or Heather’s or Chrissy’s or—”

“Ok now you want to hear what I have to say?" you snarked, and you almost apologized when Billy's lip quirked the slightest bit. Then it was gone.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

So there was something inside--someone--with a sense of humor.

You thought back through what you'd seen in Max's memories.

Billy wasn't...he wasn't a joker. Could he be? With friends and people he felt safe with, sure. Would he laugh at the expense of people he saw as lesser than him? As a way to bolster his own confidence? Yes. And could you say that the people in this room were definitely ones he would target for his own sense of security.

But this wasn't that.

Those empty eyes--abyss-like with blown pupils--stared at you still as you shifted, they followed you...and you froze. It was microscopic, barely noticeable if you hadn't been looking right into his eyes.

You'd seen that before.

The demogorgon. How it had followed you. Disinterested in the hunt, in Wayne. Specifically gunning for you.

It had reached for you. Just like Billy did before he collapsed.

"Kas?" you questioned, and without even looking, you could sense everyone else in the room stiffen. The air grew tense; a shift in the mood. "It's you in there right? How are you doing that?"

He blinked.

Your skin erupted in goosebumps.

Not an answer, per se, but enough of one.

"That's a neat trick," you goaded, hoping to maybe get a little more than just a blink. "Can you do that to all of them? Or just this one? The empty ones."

No reaction this time.

You stood to your full height and he watched. Watched as you paced, so purposefully. In a human body once again, instead of a demogorgon, but akin to a predator tracking its prey.

In those dark depths, there was need. Hunger.

But you had a need too. Kas was challenging you, had been, and you needed to win.

You were suddenly determined to get something from this revelation. Could you get him to bend? Get him to break? Reveal his hand unintentionally.

Victory so sweet you could taste it.

"You don't like me, do you? Is that why you're sending your pets after me?" Billy blinked, his eyes widened. "You want me? You have me. It's ok, you don't need to talk. I can still hear you loud and clear."

"Uhhh..." Dustin timidly piped up from the door. "Maybe this isn't a good idea, if...if Kas really can see everything--"

"It's fine," you dismissed.

Mary Victoria huffed beside you.

"Listen, you might as well talk," she said to Billy, to Kas. "Give us something. You're not going anywhere, and it's not like we're gonna break your knees or anything."

It was a joke. Of course it was a joke, it was how she dealt with stressful situations. But...it got you thinking.

"I mean, we could," you whispered.

Robin, Steve, and Dustin all reacted harshly, admonishing you, asking if you'd lost your mind. And maybe you had. For a brief moment, the memory of the minotaur's skull, mouth open in a perpetual scream, flashed before your eyes.

But triumph was too tempting.

So you locked that memory away. Used it as a motivation even. Worse things had been done for lesser causes. This was...

What was it?

What were you fighting for anymore? For Hawkins? For Eddie? For yourself?

...this was war.

"I mean he's tied up," you gestured to him. "Just like Mare said. Might as well."

"I don't know what you are besides...absolutely bonkers," Robin dismissed you, then looked to Mare. "But aren't you a nun? Aren't you supposed to...not...commit sins or something."

"I'm a novice," Mare shrugged. "I'll say a few Hail Mary's, it'll all be ok."

"That's...it's still Billy's body," Dustin tried to reason with you. "We're not here to torture him."

"Why not, maybe he can give us answers?" Mare disagreed.

"No!" Steve immediately tried to step between you and Billy, especially as he saw your hand reach for the knife on your belt. "No torture. That's not gonna give us answers; that's just gonna hurt him."

"What do you care?" you scoffed.

"He's a person. He's innocent."

Anger burned through you at the hypocrisy. Sure Billy was innocent when you wanted to take control of the situation, but they had no problem tying him up because of the potential danger.

"Billy is a vessel," you explained through gritted teeth. "A vessel for Kas. Just a suit. He isn't in there. Do you know that? None of you want to hear my explanations...fine. But just trust me...there isn't enough of Billy left spread across the entire universe for him to be in there. But Kas is. And we need answers. So I'm gonna get them."

"Then you're gonna go through me," Steve challenged you.

"Through us," Robin agreed and stepped beside him.

You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists.

"We don't have time for this."

"What if it's just a big misunderstanding," Dustin interjected again. "What if he's trying to get a message to us."

"What kind of message?" Mare questioned curiously.

"Fat fucking chance," you scoffed. "He's killing people. You said it yourself, he wants out. He's hungry. What's he gonna do if he can get to this side? Boom. Feast."

"No, Henderson's right," Steve agreed but you wouldn't be stopped.

"You were all for hunting him down a few hours ago."

"We were going to hunt the undead. The ones attacking the town."

"One chance at guessing who sends them to attack the town in the first place."

"Maybe he's just trying to get information from us in return? To make a plan?" Robin suggested.

"Yeah," Steve snapped his fingers at Robin in agreement. "Maybe that's all it is. He wants to get a message out. Wants to communicate and get information and make a plan but he chose Billy Hargrove and he's having a rough go of it. So why don't you just...do that thing? Jump into his mind. Talk to him that way. Like you did with Max."

"M-Max?"

The tension in the room broke and everyone looked at Billy.

Something changed.

You watched the transition happen, as one pupil constricted, then the other.

"M-m-Max," he stammered.

As his cheeks flushed. As Kas gave up control...and something else gained it back.

"No," you shook your head, unwilling to accept defeat. You pushed through Steve and Robin, and dove for Billy. You grabbed the sides of his head and looked directly into his eyes.

You clawed your way in. Desperately. Savagely. As though something deep inside of you yearned for it. And you knew you could do it, because he did it.

You became Billy Hargrove, for the briefest of moments.

You had met him once.

Met was a generous term.

A halloween party Eddie had dragged you to, one where Billy had behaved abysmally and then got too drunk to know up from down. You had seen him slip in the kitchen, heard the thunk when he hit the floor, and it had only been your intention to go and see if he needed help.

But when you touched his skin...the hollowness you felt there...it shook you.

A man fully living shouldn't have been hollow in that way.

Eddie had warned you after the encounter to stay as far away from Billy as you could, some irrational fear of the danger he might bring. But your fear of that hollowness had been enough to make you agree. 

He was dangerous...a man...and, you thought, a beast.

After you'd had enough time to process it though--after you'd encountered more people and gained life experience--you had come to an explanation. You likened it to scratches in wood, deep divots that had been carved out of his being, either by sadness or cruelty, his own or others you couldn't know. 

He was not hollow, it was just that someone had taken a little too much of him than his being could withstand giving.

You'd met plenty of people like that in your travels. Untouched by the supernatural, simply...irreparably damaged by the fact that they were too human to keep going.

Pair that with what you'd seen in Max's head, and it was no wonder he'd been an easy target for Vecna's dark ambitions.

It was why you had been wary of touching him when he collapsed on the grave. If he was already empty before he died...what would you find?

Now though...you had touched him. Dove into the depths of his mind, in a different way than you had with Max. You didn't just brush the edge of his mind to search his thoughts, you needed to be amongst his very being.

And lo...nothing again.

In fact, less than nothing...worse than nothing.

You were empty...empty...dying. Your limbs felt heavy and weak.

Then you realized.

You weren't breathing.

You took a deep breath and it felt like your lungs had expanded for the first time in centuries. They were stiff and crackling. Even so, the dank, stale air felt like a relief to breathe.

After several breaths you took stock of yourself. Not dying anymore. Living. Again.

You looked down at yourself; you still had some visage that was your own but when you clenched your hands, you couldn't feel. You watched your fingers move, willed them to do so, but couldn't feel the movement.

You wondered if it was a side effect of the resurrection. What did the dead feel after they died? Their spirits, you knew. Their bodies, a mystery.

Until Billy.

What a curious thing though...

He had already been emptied so thoroughly before he died. What was left to put back so he could return to the land of the living? What had come out of the grave with his body? What had Kas scratched from the bottom of the proverbial barrel to put back into him to get him to rise again?

You observed your surroundings then. You were in a desolate hallway, dark and filled with doors. They were all open, broken, and hanging off their hinges. Abandoned. Empty. Akin to something twisted and surreal that Dali might have imagined.

Suddenly footsteps echoed behind you--in front of you? Direction didn't exist here--and you spun to try and find the source.

There.

An open door with a faint light shining through it. You caught the slightest glimpse of a clawed hand grasping the door jamb before it disappeared within.

Fight or flight activated, you were quick to the chase.

Kas was here. He was still in here.

The ground beneath your feet was uneven, unstable. With no sense of self, you kept faltering, and you knew you couldn't continue to exist in this place for very long.

There were no physical limitations here, however. So you could cross great distances much faster than in the real world, and you reached the door much quicker than you might have in the real world.

You were gonna catch him, confront him, kill him right here and now.

But when you crossed through the threshold, you found...yourself.

Not a reflection; an actual duplicate of you.

All of your sense of urgency and anger dissolved.

And in its place, confusion took over.

She looked worn and disheveled. Clothes ripped. Split lip. Legs shaking as though it took all the effort in the world to stand.

Both of your eyes widened at the recognition of one another but before either of you could say anything, that clawed hand wrapped around her waist and tugged her through a tear in the ether. Her mouth opened in silent protest, her hand reached out, and she was gone.

And so was Kas.

The frustration returned and you let out a roar of expletives, ready to tear the room apart.

Only for a faint sound to capture your attention.

Across from you was another doorway...another room with brighter light this time. Almost blinding. Sun shining through an actual window.

You slowly crossed the distance and found a familiar figure crumpled on the floor, breath shallow, ropes around his wrists. He weakly tried to get to his feet and you did nothing but watch.

Your focus had been so singularly on Kas that you didn't realize that Billy would be in here too. A remnant. A revenant. His spirit torn...just like your own mirrored visage had been.

You rushed to help him, and when you did, you glanced through the window and saw yourself again. Bigger this time. Time frozen. Eyes locked.

Strange.

In your arms, Billy stirred.

"Who..." he spoke weakly, head resting on your shoulder. "Where..."

"It's ok," you reassured him, your conflicting emotions forgotten temporarily. "It'll be ok."

You summoned the strength inside of you, hoping you could access your body out there from...whatever you were in here, and you poured the healing light into him, until he could stand on his own.

Until he could scream.

"Max!"

You wrenched your hands away as you were thrown back into your body. Steve and Robin grabbed you as you backed away and Billy started struggling against the restraints again.

"Max, Max,” his voice got clearer and stronger. “Where is she? Is she safe?”

He grit his teeth and closed his eyes and pulled at the handcuffs. To everyone's surprise, the metal gave just the tiniest bit.

"We really should have used the duct tape," Robin muttered.

"Billy, everything's ok," Mary Victoria stepped around you and attempted to soothe him. She shot him a gentle smile and held her hands out in front of her to show she meant no harm. "Max is alright. She's at home. Safe."

He took a few deep breaths, eyes darting between hers, before he relaxed. He hung his head again.

"I don't...don't..." He made a whining noise. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Mare repeated. "What don't you know?"

"She cried over me. But I don't know her. Who is Max?"

Mare whipped around to look at you and you sighed wearily and shook your head. You didn't even know what to think at this point.

Clearly everything you knew was wrong.

"What do you remember then Billy?" she asked.

"I..." his brow furrowed in concentration.

Contemplation.

"Don't," you spoke up and his gaze shot to you, then to your knife, and back. You shrugged Robin and Steve off of you and held your hands out just like Mare did. "Don't strain yourself. It'll happen when it happens."

He nodded and wet his lips.

"I remember...Max hurt me too," he began. "Before. I scared her and she hurt me. Why did I do that?"

"What else?" Robin asked.

"The...I think he was here." Billy nodded over to Steve. "And I hurt him. I'm...I'm sorry..."

"Shit, never thought I'd hear Billy Hargrove apologize," Steve muttered in disbelief.

"Shut up Dingus."

"The beach. And a woman. A room...a diner. Silly Billy."

You'd heard that before too...an echo of the human parts of Billy that had been present in '84, despite the great gouges inside of him.

"She called me her Silly Billy."

"And you," he nodded towards you, and then his eyes got stormy. "And Eddie."

Mare looked to you again.

"Eddie, that's your..."

"My boyfriend, yeah," you nodded. "Halloween a few years ago. Eddie...roughed him up a little bit. Why would you remember that though?"

"Because it hurt," Billy strained, his voice hoarse. And despite the hoarseness, there was a clarity there. An understanding that you simply couldn't fathom he possessed given his state. But he did. And you know it was because Kas made him aware, and that simple fact burned you.

"What else would he let me remember?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know...a lot of things."

"About Billy?"

"...no."

There was a pause and the mattress glub-glubbed as Mary Victoria shifted on the waterbed.

"About Eddie?" she asked, peeking down at you as you laid on the floor.

"No," you responded truthfully, startled that it was probably the first time he wasn't on your mind. "About Kas."

She sighed.

"Listen, maybe you need to let this Kas thing go," she offered. "Focus on fixing things here first. That was your plan right? To help get Hawkins back on its feet."

"I can only fix things here if I stop him," you replied. "Otherwise he's just gonna make them worse again. And he knows it. That's why he's after me now."

"After you?"

"You heard me before, when he was...possessing Billy. He's sending things after me. To kill me, probably. One of the vampires--"

"I thought you said they weren't vampires."

"--and then a demogorgon when I was out visiting Wayne. And now...now Billy himself."

"Why?"

"I'm a thorn in his side, why else?"

"Could be anything else," Mare offered. She was quiet for a moment, then she continued. "Maybe you think he wants to stop you. What if Dustin is right? What if he needs you? What if he needs your help too?"

"Then he could ask! What are these games, just ask for my help. Simple as that." You watched as she gnawed at her lip. "What is it?"

"I don't...I don't know. I have a theory. Maybe. I just need to think through it for a little bit. Let it bubble like a stew. Could be something; is probably nothing. But maybe this...this is all he can do. He's calling, you're just not listening."

You stared at each other for a moment, and she looked incredibly unsure of herself. You could sense the words that were coming next. Forget it, forget I said anything and you stopped her before she could.

"Maybe you're right," you admitted with a sigh. "I know I was quick to jump on the let's kill Kas train of thought. But can you blame me? There are rules. And he's breaking them."

"He probably doesn't know them."

"You're right, probably not. But neither do you." It was your turn to feel apprehensive now. Guilty. Instead of defensive; you turned into a bitch when you got defensive. "How are you doing? I haven't checked on you really. I'm sorry."

"You've only been a fucking mess yourself," Mare sniffed judgmentally and then winked. "Can't really blame you though. I'm...handling it."

"Not overwhelmed yet?"

"Most certainly overwhelmed," she disagreed. "But not enough to quit."

"Good."

"You can make it up to me next time."

"Next time?"

"Yeah...you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"And what if I die here Mare?" The words escaped your mouth instinctually before you realized they had, and you both froze. You especially, your mind going a million miles an hour. "I mean..."

What did you mean?

What did you mean?

"You know, this whole thing...this whole curse is supposed to end in fire for me anyway," you shrugged. "It could happen any time and this...Hawkins is personal. I know I'm not being as careful as I would any other time. I mean, look at me already. What if I die here?

"What if...what if your theory...whatever it is...is wrong? What if everyone is wrong and Kas just needs to be stopped and I'm not strong enough and I die?"

You said it all in one breath and heaved by the time it was all out.

"Are you afraid?" she asked after a beat. "Of death?"

"Not enough to stop doing this dumb shit, apparently."

"You said you wanted...wanted to break this curse...for Eddie."

"I do."

"So are you afraid of dying? Of leaving him? Is that why you're telling me?"

"I'm afraid..." you paused. "I'm afraid I've brought you all this way and I'm gonna leave you to fend for yourself. I'm afraid that I'm gonna leave Hawkins worse off than I found it. I'm afraid...I'm afraid of leaving him alone because losing me will hurt him more."

She reached out a hand and you met her halfway to grasp it. Tightly. Desperately.

And you thought...you thought she'd do what she had been doing. Thought that she would offer some comfort or some words of wisdom to make you feel better.

He's in Heaven and he's waiting. He's waiting for you.

"What if he isn't in Heaven?" she asked, face entirely serious. She gripped your hand tightly. "What if he's in Hell? And all of this...is for nothing? You do all of this...you break your curse...and you're still alone?"

You could hear them then, a thousand years of your bloodline screaming what should have been the answer in your ears. Your grandfather. Your father. Fuck, even your grandmother who had no curse upon her but spent her life and all her goodness to prevent your damnation.

And then you thought of Wayne…his words. The way you tried to deny them.

“Shit, what's a guitar gonna do, or snacks, or...or a t-shirt? When he's stuck in Hell?"

Your throat tightened, but the response was easy.

"I guess I'll see him in Hell then."

You'd never seen him cry before.

Well, you had.

But not here. Not in this place.

Seeing the blood drip down his cheeks shook you to the core.

"Was it not enough?" he sniffed pathetically. "Why wasn't it enough?"

What could you say to that?

There would never be enough.

Not until you could save him. If you could ever save him.

How could you fill an empty cup...when the pitcher was empty too?

He roared when he didn't receive an answer, startling you.

"What did you expect to happen?" you asked wearily. Even if you couldn't help him, you could attempt to alleviate his woes. Just like you always had. That was your purpose: a balm to his soul, a buffer. "You couldn't control the others at the beginning."

"And I can't control them now either, can I?"

"They're willful."

"Aren't they."

"But so are you." He scoffed, but you continued. "And you're cunning. You have a plan."

"You have plans. Plans that fail, if you haven't noticed." He slashed at you with his claws, lashing out, but you appeared on the other side of him instead.

"You just need to try again," you offered sagely.

"And what good would that do?"

That was when the tide changed.

You'd been through if before but...there was no before that was quite like this. Something was so minutely different this time that you didn't realize it until it was too late.

His mind raced, his mouth raced faster, as he voiced his thoughts and put them forth into this dastardly dimension. If things were better, it would have reminded you of all the times he voiced his harebrained schemes. All of the silly little plans he had for the two of you.

Instead, they began to take shape, dark tangible things that you simply couldn't keep up with. Couldn't put to sleep as fast as they were brought to life.

Further and further into temptation--desperation--he went, and the more you tried to hold him back, the more he resisted.

You thought it was him, succumbing to the darkness once again. Drifting over the edge but then the realization came.

It was you.

"Why are you still here? Why? You act like you're here to help... but you're a burden. You've...you've ruined it. Ruined everything! I have to fix it. I have to."

He slashed again and you could suddenly feel it. For the first and only time. You felt it carve through you. Not painfully, not really. But the space where he would have run you through...disappeared.

You disappeared.

You'd done it on purpose before. Countless times. Disappeared into the void of him. Back where you belonged. But this time...this time he made you go. He dispelled you.

How long had it been, how long had you tried. How much had you given to him, to sustain him, with no hope of ever getting it back. He took from you. Took and took and took. It could have been a day or an eternity.

Suddenly there's no possible way to cling onto this reality, to hold him back from careening over the edge into darkness. Because you found yourself falling as well.

Lost.

You tried to do it on your own for so long, but now it was truly the end. You'd always known it would come. You'd worked so hard, you hoped you could save him before it came to this.

You needed her now...just as much as he did.

Lost.

You reached out one last time as his shoulders heaved, as the thick red tears ran rivers down his skin. Fingers brushed over his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips.

A farewell.

You melted into him one last time; you'd wait until you were well enough to return, whole once again.

You could rest now. What a relief.

Lost.

October 14, 1987

Having an alliance with others was a strange concept to you.

Although you did most of your work alone, it was not out of the realm of possibility to have a partner from time to time. Partner. Singular. They were few and far between, though. And for all intents and purposes, in Hawkins, that was Mary Victoria.

Your right-hand-man, your conscience when you were led astray, responsible to make sure the other didn't get killed.

Now, suddenly, there was a whole team that had your back. Mare, obviously...but Steve, Dustin, and Robin too.

It felt like an episode of the Brady Bunch.

Was this what it felt like to have siblings?

"Friends," Mare rolled her eyes when you made the comment to her. "They're called friends."

For an entire day, you all lurked around the Harrington's with the acute knowledge that you had a shared secret and that you'd have each other's backs any time someone potentially came close to finding it out.

Steve was the main person to run out to the garage whenever someone needed something. It was his house, after all; no one questioned it if he wanted to roam around at will or if he wanted some areas off limits.

Food was the next hurdle; Claudia did a great job working with limited supplies to feed an entire house of friends and neighbors. But sneaking an entire extra helping was challenging. Dustin was often the person to keep his mother distracted while extra bits of mashed potatoes or casserole were scooped onto a plate. And then you and Mare brought the food out to Billy, taking turns feeding him and keeping watch.

You all had agreed that you needed to keep him tied up and in the garage. It was just too risky, especially with Kas potentially lurking somewhere deep in his mind.

But Billy barely said anything when you went to visit, barely even acknowledged someone else was there short of opening his mouth for a bite of food.

Mare wondered, at first, if that meant Kas was back. It didn't take much for you to realize that no, Billy was the only one in there. He was just...disinterested. Disoriented.

Recollecting the mismatched pieces of a puzzle that he had no idea how to put back together.

He had moments of recollection sometimes, as he began to shuffle those pieces around. He'd make...parts of a picture, but not enough to discern anything truly useful. He'd ask about people sometimes. Mostly about Max. Ask if he could see her, which Steve harshly declined.

"Not a chance," he scoffed. "You think I'm gonna let him near Max? Any of those kids? After everything they've been through? Over my dead body."

"Maybe it'll help," Mare suggested. "With the memories. To see his sister. For them to talk."

"You wanna know the first time I knew Billy was Max's brother? Hmm?" Steve put his hands on his hips and looked at her expectantly. "When he beat the shit out of me, could've killed me. Max had to knock him out with a tranquilizer to get him to stop."

"Holy shit."

"So no, even though he seems innocent...different, he's not getting near those kids."

And then Billy would go nearly catatonic once again, back to shuffling the pieces around until he could make sense of himself again.

Another meal. Another bout of silent chewing and half-present responses. Another opportunity for Mare to try and coax him out of his shell.

"It takes time," you explained.

"How much time?"

"I...I don't know. Enough."

"Well," Mare sighed and loaded up a spoon to feed him. "Guess we're just gonna have to help him get there." From that point, she always tried to get a response out of him.

Mainly, by making airplane noises as she fed him.

"It's funny," she defended.

"It's infantilizing," you chuckled from your place at the door.

"I mean...it's still kinda funny," she shrugged, sending another biplane full of pot roast and veggies onto the next mission in Billy's digestive tract.

"We don't need funny. We need him to see he can trust us." You looked past her at Billy then, realizing that he might have been sick of being spoken about as if he wasn't just sitting there. "You can trust us, you know? When you're ready."

He just blinked at you.

"Maybe...maybe to start feeling alive again, he just needs to hear our life stories too," she sat up straight and cleared her throat. "Hi Billy. My name is Mary Victoria. I was born in a small town in Nebraska--"

And on it went.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for two whole days.

You bounced around different topics, trying to get Billy to react to something. Anything. California, sports, the supernatural, politics, action movies, musicals. And he did. Sometimes there were just sighs or a huff that sounded adjacent to a laugh. No rhyme or reason to what it was he reacted to. Just...a reaction.

Better than nothing.

“…and then Mr. Perkins said 'nobody waves anymore' and Steve joked 'it's because we're not near the ocean.' And I thought it was funny," Mare put her hand on her chest. "But Robin just rolled her eyes."

Billy made a long-suffering sigh as he chewed his creamed spinach.

"I know, it wasn't funny," you agreed with him, then you glanced over at her. "It wasn't funny."

"It was! I like corny jokes!"

"Obviously."

"Do you think they're dating?" she asked, suddenly, out of left field. "Robin and Steve?"

"Uhhhh."

You didn't really know how to respond to that. Billy, the most reactive that he had been in the past few days, scoffed. Or sneezed maybe.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, they seem close," she shrugged. You narrowed your eyes at her. "He's cute. I wouldn't put it past him to have a girlfriend or something. End of the world and all...and there's this...I don't know it's gonna sound silly."

"What is it?"

"Ok, disclaimer, I'm not going crazy." She pointed at you in warning. "Remember that. I just...whenever they're around each other, there's this string. It isn't there. I don't see it. But it's...I just know it's there. I notice it with a lot of people, actually. Especially here."

Interesting.

"What kind of answer do you want?" you asked her and leaned back in your chair. "The one you want to hear or the long one?"

Mare groaned and rolled her head back.

"Knight Lesson 102," you offered her. "Or, more fitting, like...Nun Graduation Revelation."

"But moooommmmm." She stomped her feet a little. "Can you do a worse job of reminding me that I'm not supposed to feel any kind of...attraction towards anyone. Married to God and all of that."

"You didn't take your vow yet."

"Whose. Side. Are. You. On!"

She clapped to emphasize every word.

"Long answer first," you began with a laugh. "Everyone here has a connection that spans what the eye can see. Those strings you feel, did you also feel them between Steve and Dustin? Robin and Nancy? Hell, even between us and them now, those bonds are forming.

"The Moche civilization in Peru believed that your life-force flowed through you and into others the more you shared yourself with them. And vice versa. Through conversation, through dance, through love and friendship. You make connections with everyone you meet and become a complex web of the people whose lives you touch. It's what gives us empathy."

"So that means I'm still connected with my douche ex. Great."

"Yes and no. Yes, because he's left his mark on your life and you wouldn't be you without him. But also no because you both severed that tie a long time ago."

She seemed to accept that answer.

"What about Robin and Steve then?"

"Do I think they're dating?" You asked for clarity and she nodded. "I don't know, how could I? But you can sense their bond is stronger than others, right? I thought they were siblings when I felt the connection between them. I think they just...will walk through life on a shared path for a very long time."

"Sounds like fate," she snorted. "Or soulmates or something."

"Soul..." Billy rasped, the unexpected sound causing you both to jump.

He jolted in his chair against the restraints, coughing and spitting and gagging. The convulsions lead to all manner of bodily sounds emanating from him.

"What the..!" Mare exclaimed. "What's happening to him?

"I don't..." You shook your head. "I don't know."

The anticipation was the worst. In fact, you anticipated the worst. You had thought, initially, that it was Kas trying to jump back into his body, and you could be ready at the very least. Ready to confront him, ready to jump back into Billy's mind in order to grasp Kas with your own two hands.

But you didn't anticipate nearly enough.

The food came up first. Days worth of food. It wasn't Exorcist-adjacent pea soup; it was undigested, save for chewing, and mostly whole. It spewed from his mouth violently and you both backed away as chunks landed near your feet.

"What the fuck dude!"

"Can you heal him or something?"

"I can try."

"Yes, please, try. Jesus fucking Christ."

You took a step forward, hand already outstretched so you could take a hold of him, but he spewed the last bits of foot and bile, right in your path and you jumped before it could hit you.

The dirt was next. He choked on it before he erupted.

Dust, then pebbles, then thick clumps of wet earth. It clatters and splats all around you. You dodged a hailstorm of bits and pieces, the likes of which would put the blast of Mount Saint Helens to shame, and then watched in horror as a slow, constant flow rolled and dripped from his mouth. Like magma.

Tears flowed down his cheeks and he spat to clear his airway, only for more gravel to be expelled.

"Are we sure he isn't the Antichrist or something?" Mare grabbed your arm, and pulled you back to her. To protect you or herself, you couldn't be sure.

"That isn't a thing." Although you couldn't be sure of that either.

"Then how do you explain all of this? What the hell is happening?"

You didn't know. It was beyond you.

You tried to race through everything that you'd read and heard of and seen. Dream interpretation and superstitions and cautionary tales. Your mind conjured images, interpretations of God vomiting angels and expelling them from Heaven and into Hell, another of Him spewing dirt to create the Earth itself, and a third of Zeus freeing his siblings from the belly of the dreadful Kronos.

Let alone the symbolism. You didn't have time to analyze all of it.

If you had a hundred years, if you could stop the flow of time, maybe you could come up with some idea of what this was and how to stop it.

"Help me!" He sobbed around mouthfuls of dirt and dust. "Please."

Instead you needed to act, react, as fast as you could.

"Help him!" Mary Victoria screamed.

You took the steps forward again to try and use your healing power to stop this, but you recoiled for the briefest of seconds, as Billy's eyes dilated again and blood began to leak from his dear ducts.

Kas.

But Billy wrenched his eyes shut and screamed, deep and guttural and painful.

"GET OUT!"

You didn't hesitate to take two fingers, slot them into his forehead, jamming his third eye chakra.

"Sleep," you commanded.

And his eyes rolled back in his head as his body stilled.

You left your fingers there, as the last little bits of dirt dripped from Billy's mouth and bounced down his chest and to the ground. You tried to feel him, heal him, but you felt...

Nothing.

His body was still, you couldn't fathom where the dirt and the Earth came from. There was no supernatural cause. The fragmented pieces of him remained as intact as they could be; he, for all intents and purposes, was whole. Even the connection to Kas in his mind had been severed, you felt no pathway leading to the Upside Down or its Master.

Strange.

You wondered if it had anything to do with his resurrection, if somehow the act of crawling from the ground had caused something to settle within Billy that he needed to regurgitate to finally and fully return to life. Maybe if you touched the wet earth that had been expelled from him you could feel some kind of psychometric evidence of its origins. And know what had caused it. The way God could feel Abel's blood scream from the earth after it was spilt.

Was this how Kas had resurrected all of them? Had their rebirths been just as violent?

Frantic footsteps made it to your ears then, voices clamoring over one another at the door. You and Mary Victoria turned as the knob jiggled and Dustin and Steve's voice overlapped with another.

You expected a shitstorm. An argument.

You expected Nancy.

You steeled yourself for her. Expected her. Hardened your heart so that you didn't burn with the sting of her venom.

But as the door was thrown open, all you saw was betrayal in a pair of innocent eyes.

"What on Earth," Claudia stared at the scene before her, horrified, her attention unable to fully land on one thing, "is happening here?"

And you didn't know what was scarier.

Everything you had just witnessed.

Or her disappointment.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Ok so maybe I'm not but you don’t need to leave.”

“I think it’s better if I do.”

“No one asked you to go. You don’t have to do this self-sacrificing thing.” Mary Victoria snorted.

“This isn’t self-sacrifice,” you retorted. Hands on hips, you turned to her. “Or have you not read the Bible. Exile. It’s kind of a thing.”

Claudia was…concerned.

Disappointed, yes, that you all had kept Billy a secret. But concern was the main reaction once you’d all sat down to explain how he came to be in the Harringtons garage.

And alive.

She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t yell. She wasn’t angry.

She wrung her hands and her voice wavered as she formulated questions and responses. Her eyes kept sliding over to Dustin, who would take her hand in his and reassure her.

It’s ok mom. We have a plan. Don’t be afraid.

Claudia looked to everyone for confirmation. To Steve and Robin, even Mare. But when she got to you, her eyes only held betrayal.

You were good at what you did. Probably, no one had really ever told you that you were shit. Cursed? Yes. A snarky bitch, a meddler, a loudmouth, etcetera etcetera. But bad at defeating darkness? Never.

You knew you could protect innocents. But what was the point if you didn't...protect innocence.

And that’s when you decided you needed to go. To give them some space without your bullshit.

“Self imposed.” Mare rolled her eyes. “Like an asshole.”

“It's really not the insult you think it is,” you explained. “I’m just going to stay with Wayne. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to take Billy on a drive and maybe knock a few marbles loose—”

“Careful. He doesn’t have that many marbles to begin with.”

“—then we can continue the work on your Knight lessons ok?”

"And save Hawkins?" she followed up and you shot her a strained smile. "Yeah. Sounds good."

"Stick close with the people we trust," you nodded towards the group of your friends who had congregated at the door to witness your temporary exodus. "Don't let them do anything to Billy, and most importantly, keep yourself safe."

"I thought you'd be back tomorrow."

"A lot can happen in one night."

You threw your bag into the backseat of your car and Mare pulled you into a hug.

"You be careful too, ok? No going out after curfew, even if you see something shiny luring you out into the woods," she cautioned.

"I'll be f--"

"You're incapable of staying out of trouble. And I know if you're not careful you're gonna get yourself killed. It's like you're tempted by danger or something."

"Who's the mom now," you joked.

"Shut up."

And then you were off. Back across Hawkins to Wayne and Lover's Lake.

You forewent the radio this time, opting to drive in silence and listen to the whistling wind and any potential wing flapping. The whole radio feedback misfiring happened twice more since the little mishap with Sympathy for the Devil and you decided that 3 strikes so music was just off the table for you for the foreseeable future. And as much as you'd like to have listened to Fats Waller crooning on that old mixtape Eddie made you, about how dark and stormy it was inside this heart of mine, you listened to the distant thunder as an actual storm moved in instead.

"Great," you muttered and stepped on the gas a little faster so you wouldn't have rain pelting you in the face, thanks to your non-existent windshield.

That was gonna be a bitch to fix.

The windshield, probably part of the frame. On top of the air conditioning was already long gone and the heat on its last leg. Power steering had gone out once as you were driving through the Rockies. That had been fun to find a place to fix.

You were just old enough to remember your grandfather bringing the car home, brand new. Of course at that time you didn't understand. You just liked standing on the bench seat with your hands on the steering wheel going vroom vroom. The whole family took a drive.

It felt like such a normal memory in comparison to...literally the rest of your life.

Then a few weeks later, he was gone. And so was your dad, replaced by your father.

Nonna wore a set of black robes that first year--from which, came the tasseled cord belt that hung from the rearview mirror--to mourn her husband and son, and then to dedicate herself to your salvation. And Mom had been the one who started taking the car out for joyrides to escape from her bleak reality instead. She’d taught you how to drive, taught you how to question your faith--question yourself--in the car.

It was a strange, contradictory symbol of destiny, denial, and devotion.

And then when you skipped town, temporarily dodged your fate, the car became your problem.

Your problem that was now navigating broken streets and taking detours to avoid another fissure that seemed to have opened up overnight.

That wasn't there a few days ago...

In fact several streets seemed to be inaccessible when they'd just been clear just the other night. And the further you got in your detour, the worse it got, until the road seemed to literally shake and split right beneath your tires.

"What the fuck," you muttered as you swerved around a crack that was actively forming beneath you. "Why do I feel like I've jinxed myself? A lot can happen in one night. Fuck me."

Your headlights flickered and thunder cracked overhead.

And as you rounded another bend, your car, quite literally, died.

It was like a wave, a tangible spark, an electrical overload. The headlights flickered, and the radio turned on of its own volition and wavered to an ear-splitting screech that almost, almost sounded like your name, and then it died. Everything died. An audible power down of the electrical system before your engine sputtered out and your car rolled to a stop on the side of the road by some trees.

You turned the key in the ignition. Once, twice, stepped on the pedal. Nothing.

Until your right hand began to tingle. Burn.

You wrenched your hand off the key and used your other hand to press down into the space between your life and head lines, trying to massage out the pain. It felt...beyond your being. It felt heavy. There was something in there. A weight. Could you dig it out? Dig a hole into your hand and dig the hot burning thing out?

You were a fan of horror movies, of action movies. Media was one of the few indulgences that you were allowed to have growing up. Books and movies instead of friends. Breaks in between learning about real life fantasies and terrors to entertain yourself with made up ones.

It made things a little boring sometimes, sure. You always knew when a jumpscare was about to happen. Could tell when the plot was about to reach a climax. You'd ruined a few movies for Eddie and the guys before. Even spoiled one for your own father on the rare occasion he'd been around.

So it almost felt too predictable that the broken ground just a few yards away from you began to split further. As the smoke emanated from it. As the gate began to pulse and glow ominously, in time with the heavy, burdensome pain in your hand.

As a clawed hand slithered over the edge.

"Well shit," you cursed through gritted teeth. You kicked open the door and rounded on the trunk. You fumbled with the latch with one hand, threw it open and then dug. You'd already fucked around with your weapons the other day when you and the others went vampire hunting and then they'd all been thrown back in haphazardly.

You needed a stake, a knife, something.

"Least if I die here in Hawkins, I don't need to get another car."

A crucifix got tucked in the waistband of your jeans. The revolver loaded with silver bullets shoved back there too--what gun safety?--and you'd managed to shove the blade of a knife between your teeth to hold for a second, when you were assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

Wings flapped heavily, a jarring screech that made your blood run cold, and then the laughter.

It was taunting you.

Heavy footsteps dragged on the pavement, one after the other. Closer and closer.

"Are you hiding from me?" the reedy voice cooed patronizingly. "That's cute. You can't hide. Not when I can feel the fresh blood coursing through your veins."

There was a deep inhaling noise; slightly slurred, like a breath taken through clenched teeth. Then a loud flapping and suddenly the voice was on the other side of the car.

"Delicious."

Your eyes scanned over the contents of the trunk, thoughts swirling as you wondered how you could cause the most damage and buy yourself the most time.

If it was cruel irony that your car would die and you'd be attacked in the middle of the forest after you told Mare that a lot could happen in one night, then this was just some kind of karmic intervention.

The jar of peppers.

You knew it was a weird, unfamiliar thing that she'd just latched onto because she wasn't used to it and it seemed funny, but superstition was real. And a jar full of peppers, garlic, vinegar and holy water--maybe some other mystical whispers from 20 years ago thrown in if you were lucky--would surely do some damage.

You were almost sad Mare wouldn't be here to see it in action.

You grabbed it and shuffled closer to the edge of the trunk, as close as you could to peek to the side and witness him stalk closer to you.

A smug, elongated smile and demonic black eyes just like the others had. His skin was grey and stretched over his bones, and the tattered remnants of a sweater vest and chinos, of all things, adorned his body. One clawed hand was pulled back, as if ready for an attack as he got close enough, as were his wings.

And most prominently, a scar stretched across one cheekbone.

"Oh Fred," you taunted around the blade in your mouth. "I'm not a cheap date."

You shuffled to the side swiftly and threw the jar at him. It shattered upon impact with his head and doused him in the spicy, spiritual mixture, sizzling and burning his skin. Watching it filled you with a sense of triumph; finally, the slightest bit of an upper hand on Kas, who you were sure was behind this whole mishap.

He definitely was.

Fred was not as fragile as Barb had been though, and he already started to heal once the shock wore off, so you knew you had to act fast to finish him off.

Bloodthirsty, the revolver was in your hand before you could stop it and you let off one shot after another. They ripped through him, tore chunks from torso and his wings until you heard the click click click of the empty barrel.

You thought--you hoped--the handful of bullets would be enough and maybe you'd get lucky and puncture his heart.

Unfortunately you were not lucky. It wasn't even luck. You were not a good shot to begin with--as demonstrated by the fucking crossbow--and even if you were pretty ambidextrous, you favored your right hand. Which, thanks to the heavy nagging pain that coursed through it, meant you were at a disadvantage.

Still, Fred faltered and roared in agony as his body expelled the bullets. He tried to flee, but you wouldn't let him. His wings flapped uselessly when it came to flight but he still used them he propelled himself through the trees, with you close on his heels.

Thunder boomed overhead as you ran and it soon began to downpour. The dirt became mud and your sneakers slid as you pivoted and turned, struggling to keep up with him.

Despite being wounded, he would have the advantage. You were only human, despite your abilities. And you were a human that hated running. So all he had to do was flap his wings a little harder, or scurry up the trunk of a tree...and you'd lose him.

You slowed your pace and came to a stop, then noticed...your surroundings seemed familiar.

You wiped the rain from your face and looked around. The trees were less dense here; actually, several had been knocked down entirely, trunks covered in deep scratches and splinters. The forest floor covered in dead leaves. And there was one tree that looked...magical in and of itself. With moss and mushrooms and an assortment of sticks and...yarn.

A shelter against the elements, almost.

You jumped as something brushed against your leg and then you laughed to find a tiny little face looking up at you, entirely unamused at your antics. Big green eyes, whiskers twitching, grey fur damp with the rain; her tail flicked back and forth curiously. This was her kingdom, after all; why were you here?

"Hello," you muttered and wracked your brain for a minute. You'd met this cat before, early on in your relationship with Eddie; he'd taken you out here to meet her and her kittens, to feed them like he did with the other resident cats of Forest Hills. You'd made a joke, thanks to all of the downed trees, that she was some elusive cryptid.

"Don't need to knock down any trees when big, scary metalhead Eddie Munson is bringing you Chicken of the Sea, huh?"

"You wanna get married or something?"

"Fuck you Munson."

Your heart ached at the recollection, at the sweet innocent declaration that...that would never come to pass.

"Lucy," you cooed, basking in that memory. "Queen Lou."

You knelt down and offered your left hand in greeting, but she swiftly dodged and pressed her head into your right hand. The heavy pain and throbbing dissipated almost immediately as she nuzzled and purred. But the pain in your heart remained.

"You out here by yourself?" you asked. You looked around in realization; the trailer park must not have been far off. "Or did you come back here to see what the commotion was? Sorry about that."

Lucy lavished in your attention for a few moments, enjoying your scratches behind her soft, damp ears and then she startled. She turned, hackles raised and you were suddenly on alert too. Wings flapped wetly overhead and she bolted to chase after whatever creature fled.

"Shit," you muttered and began to follow. You might have joked that she was a monster but she was most certainly just a tiny little kitty. Definitely not equipped to fight an...undead bat thing.

But damn, she was quick.

The trees got more and more sparse until you were in the condemned remnants of the Forest Hills Trailer Park itself.

Fuck, it was bleak.

Out of all the damage you had seen in Hawkins, the aftermath of two "earthquakes," this was the worst.

Most of the buildings looked intact just...abandoned. Doors left open and swinging, laundry left to rot on the line. The brightly colored remnants of FEMA markers spraypainted on the sides of the trailers were especially vibrant against the grey sky. The ground was uneven and cracked, great plates of earth tilted this way and that to compensate for the thick, cavernous crack that carved through the center of the park. Soil was overturned and cursed smoke bled into the sky, though the rain kept it from rising too far.

You wondered if the veil between this world and the Upside Down was the thinnest here. This was, after all, the place where Vecna first punctured his way through with his Curse.

A hiss gained your attention and you kept going, following Lucy despite the dread getting larger in your chest. Further into the park until it opened a cavernous maw that bore your heart to the world as you found yourself in front of the Munson's half-destroyed trailer.

The frame of the trailer was shorn apart, walls and siding jagged as the origin point of the gate started in what used to be the living room. Wayne had confided in you, about Chrissy; how he'd found her body, mangled in a way that would forever be burned behind his eyelids.

You hadn't realized at the time that Chrissy had been the vampire from the square. The one who had tried to carry you away. Would it have taken some weight off his mind to know she was...alive? If you could call it that? Did he already know? Or would it add insult to injury knowing this was a worse fate for her?

A soft brrr and your eyes zeroed in on Lucy sitting on the counter in the kitchen, the open mouth of the trailer exposing it to the elements. She watched you for a second before she jumped off the counter and disappeared down the hall leading to Eddie's room.

It was then that the ghosts decided to appear.

You crawled up the side of the trailer, on the half-demolished porch steps and into the kitchen. There the two of you stood, huddled next to the stove, arms around each other as you waited for the water to boil for hot cocoa and marshmallows; so stupidly affectionate after making up from one of a dozen dumb fights. The ghosts disappeared as you passed, and suddenly there was no pan on the stove. There wasn't even a stove anymore. The wall of mugs gone. Even the doors on the cabinets were half-broken.

You continued down the hall, where you could hear your own fists pounding on the side door on that fateful night. After you crawled from the Earth after the tunnels collapsed, the only place you knew you'd find comfort was here. Was with Eddie.

Was that why Kas had chosen to resurrect Billy in such a way? To mirror your own ascent, crawling from Hell? Born anew?

The phantom of Eddie ran out of his bedroom and opened the door for you, and you collapsed against him sobbing. You watched as he held you, soothed you, wiped the dirt off your skin and promised it would all be ok. And as he kissed your forehead, they were gone.

There shouldn't have been electricity, it should have been the first thing FEMA cut off...but a light flickered in the bathroom.

On and off and on and off and on.

On. Off. On. Off. On.

On and off and on and off and on.

You stared at it, felt your throat get tight.

You blinked, hard, and the bulb over the sink exploded.

It wouldn't misfire anymore.

If only you'd have investigated that a little further, just to save yourself the heartache that awaited you in the bedroom.

Because as soon as you stepped over the threshold, you became overwhelmed. This was where you spent so much time together, why wouldn't the ghost be active and abundant here?

Sitting on the floor by the stereo listening to mixtapes. Sleeping, talking, writing, laughing. There was one of you pacing at the foot of the bed. One of him running through the door with a bag of McDonalds French fries for you to share. A set of you in the bed, limbs intertwined, whispering words of devotion as your bodies became one.

You stared at them the longest, eyes burning because you refused to blink.

Once you did they would be gone and you would be alone again. Alone with the person you hated the most in the world: yourself.

The you in your mind would always have her Eddie, but the you here would never have him again.

You ached to be back there.

What you wouldn't give to be back there, back there with him. Turn back the clock and say damn Hawkins, damn destiny, damn the world. You would sooner rip out your own heart than follow Gabriel to the tunnels that night in November of 84. The words, the oath, the fire, the dirt. Why did you go there when you could have come back here?

You could hear Gabriel's stupid voice echoing in your head, words that he'd repeated too many times after you'd ask him why, when, how you could come back to Hawkins, back to Eddie.

"Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret. Worldly sorrow brings death."

"Then I would rather die," you hissed now, aloud, as you watch the ghosts reach the pinnacle of pleasure and melt into each other. A great, glorious being with two heads and four arms, four legs, and one heart.

You held the tears at bay for as long as you could until you shut your eyes. The ghosts began to evaporate around you, whispered words faded into the din of the rain outside, until it was silent.

Until you were alone again.

You didn't want to open your eyes again, didn't want to face reality again, but when you did...you found a pile of cassettes on the ground.

You kicked them, gently, nudged them with your toe. Almost as though you expected them to disappear too.

And when they didn't, you knelt down and looked through them.

You should have been looking for Lucy. And further still, you should have been trying to find Fred before he healed too much and disappeared back through the gate, if he hadn't already. But curiosity got the better of you.

But no one was here to judge you. Wayne wasn't here to catch you snooping, wanting the last little remnants of Eddie that you could latch onto before you walked away and left the trailer to rot. Sure, you had asked Wayne and you could ask him more, but it was the little things that he didn't know, the secret things that were only between the two of you, that you hungered for again.

So you moved around his room and dug through the little piles of abandoned objects, blew off layers of dust, and scraped the tiniest bit of psychometric energy off them and directly into your heart.

Eddie screamed "this is music" when Robin called his tapes shit, that he needed real music. How many times had he said that to you when you'd attempt to put one of your tapes in?

A loaf of bread that, now, was just a moldy, desiccated mess. But a brush of your fingers over the plastic brought an Eddie sitting on the floor quietly tinkering away on an original song and getting hungry for PB&J.

Postcards and posters and random bits ripped out from magazines all scattered across his dresser and then tucked into the side of the mirror...two tickets.

Ozzy Osbourne with Special Guest Metallica Tuesday April 8, 1986 7:30PM Market Square Arena

Tears built up in your eyes as you ran your fingers over the faded ink.

The tickets being handed over to Eddie and Jeff who then started screaming on the sidewalk in front of the box office, how Eddie refused to let Jeff keep his ticket.

"Nah man, I'll keep them safe. With my life."

Talking about it to Wayne once a week, how they'd have to miss a set at the Hideout but it was ok. How often did you get to see Ozzy and Metallica?

Him practicing songs from the new album every night in front of the mirror, every night for 3 weeks since its release all while staring at the tickets and his eyes drifted up to...

You frowned, and concentrated.

Eddie's eyes drifted up from the tickets to...

You moved your hand off the tickets until you touched the glass of the mirror; something had been there.

Eddie walked into his bedroom in a daze, clutching a tiny piece of paper in his hand. No...not paper. It was stiffer...card stock. There were tears in his eyes, but a smile on his lips.

You gasped and pulled your hand from the mirror. You immediately dug into your pocket and pulled the same piece of cardstock, the one you'd fumbled with at Rick's when you didn't want Wayne to know you were snooping. It had come from here.

No.

It had come from you.

You hadn't tried to pick emotions from it before, hadn't tried to lift memories, but now you were primed for it. Images flashed before your eyes.

Of you standing in front of a drugstore Christmas card display debating yourself for the perfect one, agonizing as you sat at the little desk in a motel room wondering just what to write. Could you tell him where you'd been? How much you missed him? Beg him to wait for you, again? To keep waiting?

In the end you knew you couldn't say anything, just a heart.

Of Eddie eagerly opening the card, recognizing your handwriting and the little butt-shaped heart you drew inside. Of his hope that he poured onto the paper that you hadn't abandoned him, hadn't forgotten him. He'd just have to wait. He'd wait forever. And every day he'd kiss his fingers and strum the strings of his beloved guitar and then press those same fingers to the cartoonish little mug of hot cocoa on the front of your card.

Wayne had said he'd taken things that meant the most to Eddie when he left...t-shirts, books, his guitar...and not the concert tickets...but your card.

You thought back to a card of your own. Sent to you from your father at Christmas. The beautiful drawing of the Loch Ness monster and his pathetic "Merry Christmas, From Dad" written inside. How irrationally angry you were that he would send you a card, after he'd said such terrible words to you, after he tried to force you to accept fate when he realized he was on the path to failure. You'd ripped the card up.

Now, in this moment...staring at the card that Eddie cherished, one that you'd cowardly sent without even signing...you felt some kind of understanding with your father. For the first time, truly, in your entire life. How much you would give...for a normal life for your loved ones.

And you knew how much stronger than you Eddie was, how patient he could be...how much more love that he had to give. How much more trust and faith he had.

Tears dripped on the card and you quickly wiped them away with the cuff of your jacket.

You were loath to do it, but you shoved the card back in the corner of the mirror where it belonged. You kissed your fingers and pressed it to the front of the card, and for the briefest moment you could feel the Eddie that lived deep inside you smile.

You cleared your throat and went back to digging and you noticed, there on the bed, a book.

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Masters Guide

Pages were randomly sticking out of it. Just like the books that had been at Rick's. You helped yourself as you began flipping and your thoughts fondly turned back to your own long sessions ahead of Halloween, when Eddie had convinced you to join Hellfire for one night only. Character creation and the mechanics of the game. He'd told you stories of monsters and villains like Xanathar and Vecna and...

"Wait," you paused. "Vecna."

Sure, Dustin had told you that Vecna was Henry Creel. But you'd never questioned the origin of the name. Villains gave themselves dumb names all the time. Like Batman's Calendar Man or Mad Max's Lord Humungus.

You flipped frantically, page after page after page...eyes scanning over unfamiliar words haphazardly. You didn't care about hit points and spells and experience, you needed to find one thing.

One thing that was on the tip of your tongue, the corner of your mind, you knew you knew it but you didn't know where...until now.

The Sword of Kas

"When Vecna grew in power," you read aloud. "He appointed the most evil and ruthless lieutenant to serve as his bodyguard and righthand. That henchman was the vampire lord Kas. For a long time Kas faithfully served the lich but legend says that the destruction of Vecna was brought on by Kas and the world was made brighter thereby. Son of a BITCH."

You picked up the book and threw it across the bedroom, where it crashed into a lamp and fell to the floor.

You backed out of the bedroom and back down the hall, into the kitchen. The wind whipped heavily outside and you knew you needed to find Lucy and leave...go back to the Harringtons and demand an answer but...how could you face the reality outside of those walls?

You needed a minute...to process all of it.

You stood over the sink, stared at the scummy drain and the basin filled with half-decaying leaves that had blown in.

Your heart was pounding, ears ringing, and your left arm started hurting, hand stiff and tingling where you clutched the edge of the counter; it could have been a heart attack but it could also have been everything that you'd been told since coming to Hawkins had been...what...a lie?

And here you were after a week and you had to start from square one again.

"It's ok, it's ok," you clenched your eyes shut and muttered to yourself. "It's not starting back at square one. You already know some things. So what? So what? So what his name isn't really Kas; you never knew someone named Kas in town anyway, did you really think that it was a real name?

"Of course you did. So why did they lie? The kids...Dustin...he must have come up with the name because...duh vampire. Makes sense. But then why wouldn't they tell you who Kas really was?"

You opened your eyes and stared into the sink again, then off to the side, sliding your eyes along the grout lines to help you calm yourself.

You were like a ticking time bomb of emotion. The...anger and sadness and mourning and need...all churning in your body. You were being selfish; these people, your former neighbors, had seen a lot. And here you'd come into town with your...Knight of the Holy Order spiel, spouting off how you'd be here to help and so far everything had truly...truly not worked in your favor.

"It's because I'm not trustworthy." You clenched a fist and hit the counter. "I know that."

What had you done? But...kill one of their friends and do whatever you wanted, go wherever you wanted...kept secrets. That's why you left the house earlier because you needed some space. And so did they. You being right under their nose, fucking up every step of the way, wasn't gonna do anything to earn their trust.

"And if they just trusted me, then I could help."

"And who's going to help you?" came a soft voice behind you.

You jumped and turned and saw her, hanging upside down from the jagged edge of the roof. Her hair cascaded down in a curtain to the floor, all perfect golden curls with a copper tint.

"Hello angel," she said in a long, breathy, drawn-out taunt, and then in a feat of impressive acrobatics, swung her body off the roof, flipping herself to stand upright.

She was a cheerleader after all.

"Nice to finally meet you too," you greeted calmly. "Chrissy."

She looked different than she had in the square, less bat-like, less creature-like, unless that was just your imagination now being so close to her. A strange mix of unsettling monster and conventional beauty. Her limbs were still long and a little in-human, but her pallor was less...dead. Her wings dragged along the ground behind her as she took one step towards you, then another. Her demon-like eyes, just like Fred's, stuck on you as you backed along the counter.

She grinned, all pretty, pouty lips and sharp, deadly teeth.

You mentally calculated how you could defend yourself if she decided to attack you here. The knife you had...fuck it was somewhere. Had you dropped it when Lucy had shown up? Regardless, all you had left was the crucifix tucked into your jeans and...yourself. Your powers. The thunder and lightning and rain still falling outside would be an easy conductor for a some kind of defensive play if you needed to.

The gate...also was an option. Crack the earth open further and swallowed her whole. But that wasn't a route you truly wished to explore just yet.

"You're thinking naughty things," Chrissy sing-singed. "Mean things. I'm not gonna hurt you. Not like the others want me to. Why do you want to hurt me?"

"You've hurt a lot of people," you explain. "Your master has."

"Master," she closed her eyes and stopped in her tracks for a moment. "He likes that. Master of Puppets, I'm pulling your strings. Yeah he likes that."

"Yeah? Nice to know he's happy."

"See?" she held her hands--claws--out to you. "We both want him to be happy. We can work together."

"Did you lose the ability to understand sarcasm when you died?" you snarked at her. Her smile dropped and her cheeks twitched. "He's a monster. He's a villain. He's killing people."

"He doesn't like what you're saying about him."

"Tough."

"You should be nicer, after all he's done."

"I'm not nice," you spit at her.

You'd shuffled to the edge of the kitchen but when you turned to try and make a getaway down the hall, you were immediately stopped by a solid wall of muscle. Clawed hands grabbed your biceps and pushed you away, then a mouth full of jagged teeth roared in your face, spittle and blood spraying you thoroughly.

If Chrissy felt more human and Fred more monstrous, Patrick was somewhere in the middle. His jaw was still slightly dislocated, from Vecna's curse or his own lack of care while feeding, you weren't sure. He was lithe and long, like a dancer, and he was strong. He turned you back to face Chrissy, and gripped your arms tightly; you could feel his claws puncture your jacket, your skin, deep enough you were sure he drew blood.

"You can't run," he hissed. "Don't run."

"Don't fight it," Chrissy continued, desperately. "Why do you fight it? He just wants you--"

"Wants me dead," you finished for her.

"He wants you," Patrick repeated, grip getting tighter. "He needs you."

Chrissy lunged for you then, one claw coming to your throat, the other gripping your jaw. You closed your eyes and tried to focus; you needed to get them off of you, needed to...expel them. You listened to the rolling thunder outside, trying to ignore the raspy hissing breaths in your ears.

If you could just...time it right...you could strike at least one of them with lightning.

You listened to the rumble and thought about an ocean...and...sea monsters.

You thought about Odysseus crossing the strait of Messina and encountering Scylla and Charybdis. A decision similar to yours right now; an adventure led astray that led to an impossible decision. Which path could he take that would cause the least damage? Which path could you? Strike Patrick and surely Chrissy would snap your neck; strike Chrissy and Patrick would tear out your throat.

Shit, even Odysseus had a fig tree to cling to.

You wracked your brain, tried to stay calm.

Until Chrissy's hands turned gentler, filled with care. Her thumb caressed your chin, then your cheek. The claw around your throat loosened, and she cupped your face in both hands.

"I feel what lurks," she hissed, breath fanning across your skin. "In your lusting heart."

"I hope you have a heart, because I'm gonna drive a stake through it," you spat at her.

Her fingers pressed into your face, punishingly, and then went soft again. She chuckled, deeply; not like the simpering giggle she'd given before. Something raspy from within her chest.

"You're funny." Chrissy continued, but there was a rumble in her voice now. Deep and dark and secret. "Denial...not just a river in Egypt. How's that for a joke? Why did you come here? Why did you come back?"

It wasn't Chrissy anymore.

"It's personal," you told her.

"Isn't it? It's just between us."

It was Kas.

Except Kas wasn't Kas anymore he was...something. And your mind bent trying to make sense of just who was on the other side of Chrissy's mind.

You felt her get closer to you and Patrick's grip on you tighten; the metaphorical rock and hard place that you'd been considering closing in on you. Your decision gone; you'd have to destroy them both.

But Chrissy's fingers kept up their gentle ministrations. Over your cheeks, then your brow, down the slope of your nose, over your lips. And if you ignored the rasp of her claws along your skin, you could almost imagine another set of hands. Doing what they always did. Soothing your thoughts, bringing you joy and comfort and love.

And surrounded by all of the memories, all of the ghosts that lived in the walls of the trailer it was overwhelming. A tear trailed down your cheek as you thought of him.

"Shhhh" she whispered, her own mouth close to yours now. She kissed away the tear as it rolled nearby. "Don't cry. How long?"

"It's personal," you repeated, but your mind flashed to the ghosts in the bed earlier, the memory of the two of you on a rainy October afternoon just like this one.

You hadn't thought of...another person like that since Eddie. You'd only ever thought of him after you were gone, and especially after he was. It was a self-imposed abstinence, but...well shit you were grieving. For yourself, for him. Your goal wasn't...pleasure...it was...Heaven. And heaven only ever was where he was, so if he was dead, so was your pleasure.

You knew that wasn't what Kas meant.

"Three years?"

But maybe it was.

"It's personal."

"I told you, it's just between us. How personal can it be?"

You grit your teeth, and turned your head away as best you could. The hands moved down your face, to your neck, fiddled with the remnant of Barb's bite. There was a growling between Chrissy and Patrick, but Kas continued.

"You want to be here."

"I don't."

"In Hawkins? Yes." The chuckling returned. "Yes you do."

The thumb ran slowly over the bite and you shivered, each ridge tender. There was a soft tsking noise, and then kisses up your cheek.

"I'm sorry." A lick over your skin, tongue flicking at the end. "But you're lying to yourself. You want to be here. You've been thinking about it since you set foot in the city limits; you're practically screaming it. Broadcasting it for all of Hawkins to hear. You're home."

"I..." Where was the lie in that? You had thought it, the minute you'd driven in town. You were home, in Hawkins. It was your home in a broad sense. This trailer was home. Eddie was home.

You hiccuped and scrunched your face up.

"Shhh," came a soothing sound, kisses over each of your eyes, just like Eddie would when you were upset.

"Get out of my head."

"I'm not in your head. I'm here. With you." You could hear the little grin in his voice. "But you're here, with me. You give a little, I give a little. A little back and forth. A partnership; we're both familiar with that aren't we? It's been a while...but it's just like riding a bike."

The hands moved...down...down...to the button of your jeans. Soon they were open and down further still, claws rasped against skin and cotton.

"I can give you everything you want. Everything you left behind."

There was that chuckle again, from Patrick this time, who pulled you closer against him, your back along the length of him. You could feel every limb accommodate the differences in your physiology. Vampire and human, unholy and divine. He began moving against you, length hardening into a prominent ridge against the softness of your rear. And Chrissy along your front, leaving sweet kisses and caresses, her fangs dragged over your skin intermittently as Kas continued his little speech, made his offer.

"But that means I get what I want too."

But which one was Kas? Were they both Kas? Were...

You couldn't think, the hands shifted just enough to play with your folds. You'd already been thinking of pleasure and Eddie, everything you'd lost and everything that could have been waiting for you. You were only human, of course you were going to respond.

It was a physical reaction...only a physical reaction, but...a little pleasure never hurt.

You nodded and fingers dipped, played with your clit, dragged your slickness up from your weeping, wanting hole to make it as sweet for you as they could.

Your head rolled back and rested against Patrick who had started breathing heavily behind you, huffing and heaving, a whispered so good, so sweet, as he used you.

"Ah but you already said it," there was a smirk. "I want you? I have you."

You had said that, hadn't you?

You thought of...god you could hardly think, but you thought of that last lazy morning together before you left. You late to work, Eddie late to school. He was behind you, face buried in your neck, fingers buried in your pussy as you both chased a high. A game of just enough but not quite too much followed by luscious words that helped get you to the edge together. He always told you how sweet you were. He liked to...

Fingers curled within you but bent in an oddly inhuman way that still abused your clit and brought you further along. You inadvertently clenched as the claws scratched and stung, and they both froze and hissed for a moment.

"Mine," they said in tandem, and then the movement became harder.

Rocking bodies, thrusting and bucking, fingers sliding in and out of your tight slit, palm grinding on your clit both delicately and punishingly, until a single tear became a river, and the storm outside emanated from you instead. You clenched your hands as Chrissy chased your high, as she pushed you over the precipice, as she stopped focusing on your channel and only focused on working your pleasure out of you for as long as she could. Legs weak, you arched away from Patrick and he chased you as well, pistoned his hips against yours until his own release followed.

You heard a distant clang of something falling to the floor, and your eyes snapped open.

And it was like a switch was flipped.

Patrick pulled you against him and Kas was gone; only a monster remained. A hungry one. And those fangs that had roared in your face just minutes easier buried themselves deep in your neck, the good side. They ripped into you and pulled, mouthful after mouthful of blood. It was a punishing kind of pain, especially with the remnants of an orgasm still coursing through you.

Chrissy was next, the gentleness in her gone, her hand, still slick, grabbed your chin yo keep you steady and with a feral grin she dove in and tore through the partially healed bite from Barb to take her own fill.

Their arms held you still while your body got weaker.

In your hazy mind you wondered if it had all been a trap. If Kas had wanted to take you out this way, obstacle removed by way of temptation.

You thought you heard your name.

There was a rumble and an unholy screech and before everything went dark, Chrissy and Patrick both ripped themselves away from your neck. Your blood splashed on the floor and dripped from their sharp mouths as they hissed at something.

But you couldn't keep your eyes open.

You were lost.

“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”  ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Next Chapter: Via Domus

[leonenjoyer69]

Do you have any hcs about whole/mind Jekyll :0 (I've fallen in love with him 😔)

OF COURSE! you basically just opened my ramble can >:3

First of all! Like I mentioned before, Whole Jekyll is the closest to Jekyll Pre-split (and may actually just be him pre-split), but kinda fucked up from being trapped in the mind scape. He yearns for his halves to combine again so he can live somewhat normally again.

So, Whole Jekyll, or Harry (as Mind Lanyon calls him, and I may start too, lmao), can manipulate the mindscape to a decent degree, though he can't get rid of the nightmares. He does help keep them locked away though when stray ones escape their confinement (of course this was before Hyde unleashed them, which made Harry VERY upset). He can also enter and somewhat interact with the memories, letting himself take Jekyll's place and feel the things around him in the memory (to a certain degree). The ones he visits most often are the relationship with Lanyon in university (any of them, but especially the more tender and physical, innocent touch-heavy ones), the break up, and the aftermath of the potions creation. He sweeps these memories quite consistently, trying to see where he went wrong and if there's anything he can use to fix this. Of course, he should know there's not by now, but he desperately clings to that hope. Plus, he doesn't have much else to do.

He tries to get the attention of Jekyll and Hyde, but can't seem to make himself heard by them, though he believes he's able to ever so slightly sway their thoughts or words every once in a while. When not perusing memories, trapping nightmares, or talking with Mind Lanyon, he's usually always watching what Jekyll and/or Hyde are doing. Generally, he's trying to sway them in any way possible that could bring them closer to being whole again, but he never succeeds. Sometimes, he feels so drained that all he can do is silently watch.

Also, since I'm a sucker for Scottish Jekyll (as we've seen), he speaks with a bit of an accent that he can't seem to drop, no matter how much he sits through the memories of Lanyon's english lessons. It's not super strong, but it's definitely there, and he'll slip in a few Scottish words every once in a while. It also tends to get a bit worse when he's revisiting older memories. The accent kinda annoys mind Lanyon sometimes, but he's learned there's truly nothing to do about it (he's certainly tried)

Onto Mind Lanyon, Harry tends to hang out in different areas than Lanyon, the main ones being the subconscious, where he watches Jekyll and Hyde (he can't seem to go any higher than the deeper parts of the subconscious, though he hasn't really tried too hard to) and deeper in the unconscious, where most of the nightmares lurk. Of course, Harry acts as a sort of nightmare exterminator to Mind Lanyon, who's literally terrified of them. (Also, I firmly believe that it was Harry that found all of Mind Lanyon's little gentleman ghosts to keep him company, since  Mind Lanyon complained about how little he saw him).

Anyways, mind Lanyon is a good bit different from real Lanyon, but Harry finds him to be good company when he needs it. Mind Lanyon has this uncanny calming effect on him, despite his oddities and prissy, distant attitude. Mind Lanyon would never intentionally hurt Harry, he likes him too much (and he refuses to be stuck talking to no one but Mind Frankenstein). Back to the reason I mentioned the areas Harry hangs in tho! Mind Lanyon spends most of his time in the library and Hall of memories, half the time just looking for Harry, though he claims he's just keeping an eye out for nightmares that slipped through (they both know that's mostly a lie tho), and the other half just reading.

mind Lanyon will sometimes fuss over Harry's hair, complaining about it being an ungentlemanly rats nest. He has also tried fixing it a few times, but it never worked.

I'm thinking of a few story ideas with him (ik, dangerous since I've already got a story I'm working on). In one, at some point Harry is actually able to stumble across Hyde (or Hyde stumbles upon him). Don't know where in the timeline it'd be set, but meeting him would definitely confuse and freak Hyde out lmao. Otherwise, I have another little idea where Harry's able to force himself up into the conscious, where he's finally able to talk to the other two and hang out in the mirrors and such. Don't know if ill do anything with those ideas, but they're there!

Omg!!! Also!!! I forgot about the strings lmao. Any major conflict between Jekyll and Hyde, or super high stress moments, cause the corresponding (depending on which half is suffering) strings to tighten and tug a bit. This makes the bandages nice, considering how often that's gotten lately (and even before, with Jekyll's workaholic tendencies). He can still usually move his arms quite freely, but sometimes the pulling is bad enough that he can't. He's tried to follow where the strings are pulling him, but at a certain point the pulling stops all together, and he's left a no true destination. Otherwise, they're ethereal, so they usually stay short enough to keep out of his way.

Also, he kept a journal for a very good while (actually managed to start a second one), but eventually his writings became increasingly nonsensical and messy. Paranoid doodles and ramblings began covering pages, to the point where he simply stopped writing in it bc he didn't like seeing the pages. It's still around the mindscape though, somewhere...

OKAY, THAT'S ALL FOR NOW, honestly that was less of HC and more of me just info dumping BUT I SHAN'T APOLOGIZE. Anyways, thank you if you read all this, he's one of my new babies, I love his tortured little soul <3 THANK YOU FOR THE ASK :33

[leox-un]

I'm SO interested in your jekyll/hyde!! are they ever apart? - how does physical distance (and contact) affect them? what's it look like for them to resonate? how did they split?? but also silly things like do their tastes and manner diverge between themselves? BIG invested!!

KICKS MY FEET AND GIGGLES I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

SO the way it works is that they can only be in one form at a time, either weapon or normal person form, so jekyll can weild hyde, or hyde can weild jekyll; they cannot both exist as a person or a weapon at the same time (we'll get back to that)

imagining each of them having their own half of one soul, getting farther away drastically affects their health; they're already kind of dying because of the split but getting further just kind of makes it worse, since their already frail tether to each other could kinda just snap

i think of it like an egg, they split a whole egg in 2, so now the 2 halves are each in their own half of an eggshell; if the eggshell tips over too much then the egg falls out and Thats Bad

jekyll was able to manifest the split by focusing his entire will on trying to become a weapon without losing his human form in the process; he basically focused Real Hard on doing both at the same time, he did a lot of research and practice and testing stuff before actually being able to do it, but he cant put it back now oopsies

about their differences, thats the part thats more interesting to me! generally people view jekyll and hyde as a split personality sort of thing when it isnt really that originally? the original book is much more leaning towards being a metaphor for alcoholism; basically hyde is less of "evil jekyll" and more "jekyll if he had no inhibitions" so i wanted to lean into the fact that hyde is basically the same guy as jekyll! whenever jekyll does Crimes he does it as hyde because he knows no one will think its jekyll committing these crimes (testimonies going "i saw a white hair man at the scene!!" while jekyll has black hair, etc)

final thing, their resonance... he ehhehe so he only ever does this Once (and then is fucking Murdered minutes later but we dont talk about that) as a last resort sorta thing; so hes basically backed into a corner, and his last resort is to use all that Wonderful focusing ability he gained in his tests to try and split his soul Again so that he can wield Both halves of his blade together again (individually theyre light enough to be one handed swords, but together they form a big two-handed sword) BUT when he does this, his physical body is just. Not there, it moves very funky and looks like its being puppetted around

and then he eats shit and dies but we'll get into that later LMAO

[dross-the-fish]

If you like big hyde why did you keep him small? Just curious

Because I do prefer Hyde to be physically different from my Jekyll.

I made my Jekyll extra tall and very broad and self conscious of how much space he takes up. As Hyde he's smaller, more agile and so much faster. The lightness he feels physically also kind of mirrors the lightness of his spirit once he's able to let go of the burden, the weight if you will, of being upstanding Doctor Henry Jekyll. I think the sad thing about that is that no one actually hates Henry's weight as much as he himself does. Utterson probably quietly loved it but Victorian society was not kind to fat people and Jekyll was conditioned to loathe every roll on his back, the fat of his stomach hanging over the cinch of his belt and and his heavy creaking tread.

Hyde still grows in my AU but his growth is very slow. Right now he's kind of stunted because after the whole suicide thing he didn't let himself be Jekyll anymore. He's stuck as Hyde and he hasn't really grown as a person either, he just repeats his same cycles on loop, until he becomes part of the crew and he has to adapt. Then he starts to grow again. Hitting around 5'2" I also made him thin but tried to avoid making him look twinkish by covering him with hair and giving him big hands and long muscular arms. There's nothing soft about his body. It's all sharp angles and wiry muscles.

The other reason I keep him short is because we already have Adam Frankenstein taking up our "giant creature" slot and I wanted more of a "vicious little monster" vibe out of Edward.

[henrysglock]

Warning: This blog is not a safe space for those who are anti-Palestine. That includes zionists. Also, I will be posting/reblogging ST5 leaks!

24 • he/him • pfp by @.stranger-comet

James' Master List

My Bullshit Theories:

The Big Analysis on The First Shadow (Nearly 50,000 words dissecting All That so you don't have to!)

Local Man Uses The Time Loop To Try And Change His Fate (An outline of the 27-year time loop that exists in Stranger Things Canon, plus an initial dive into the Upside Down's double agent)

D.A.D and The Squawk (The CONFIRMED direct connection between the radio-based Mindflayer Tracking device in TFS and the leaked radio station van)

Mirror, Mirror (The mirror in the Rainbow Room isn’t a mirror at all. It’s a window)

A Second El Has Hit The (Block) Towers (Instances of back-to-back duplicate El scenes in NINA)

This Silver Cat Has Nine Lives (There are nine distinct Brenners in the 4.01 massacre sequence alone)

Shattered Mirrors and Cracked Walls (An analysis of One’s dematerialization scene, the aftermath, and a determination that we’re being shown at least 4 timelines in the 4.07 massacre)

One Does Not Simply Lose A Gate (The 2nd part of the 4.07 massacre aftermath and proof that a timeline exists where Henry/Edward did nothing wrong)

Bloody Eyes, Changing Cracks, and Reversing Mirrors (The 3rd installment in the Cracks and Mirrors series: A pattern in El’s blood not only indicates 2 timelines, but also a non-Vecna One)

Well, Well...Look Whose Limbs Are Still Intact. (Part 4 of the Cracks and Mirrors series: El's eye blood pattern links to specific jumpsuits, it can be used as an indicator of attack style, and it revealed a second teen El in the 4.07 massacre.)

Where Is All The Blood Coming From? (A comparison between the 4.07 massacre's blood and the carnage resulting from democreature attacks)

Local Man Refuses to Pick A Damn Jumpsuit (Matching up the Dimension-X jumpsuits to 4.07 massacre jumpsuits)

Turn Around...Look At What You See...(At least one version of Brenner saw One killing Two in 1979 rather than El with the gate, and I've got receipts for it)

The Store Room Scene In NINA Is Actually A Bunch Of Different Versions of Events Frankenstein'd Together (Contains Concrete Proof)

The First Shadow: Impossible Timeline (The Timeline of the Newspapers Shown In The First Shadow Cannot Exist)

Why Do You, As The Big Bad, Have No Lines Or Powers? (Vecna’s physical form in the UD has no dialogue and doesn’t use psionic powers: evidence and theories)

Psycho Killer, Qu'est-ce Que C'est? (Neither Henry Nor Vecna Are Psychopaths: An In-Depth Behavioral Analysis)

Our Lord and Savior…Vecna? (Why Vecna/One is God, Based On Analysis Of ST4, The Bible, And Other Supporting Media)

The Very Special Easter of 1959 (The Order of Creel-Related Events As Compared To The Catholic Calendar. Read: More Proof That One Is God)

Fics:

Paper Faces — POTO x ST fusion fic (Complete)

ptolemaea (blessed be the children) — Henry’s fix-it fic (4/?)

Trick of the Light — Henry-Brenner-El centric 4.07 rewrite (2/3)

Papa Warbucks — Henry/Brenner Sugar Daddy AU (1/?)

Edits:

ABBEY (ft. Henry Creel)

NYMPHOLOGY (ft. HNL)

The Colors of ST4 (ft. Le Monde)

⬇️ Link Library Below The Cut ⬇️

Featured Posts

↳ Featured Timeline, Time Loop, and Alternate Reality Posts

Jekyll and Hyde? No. Vecna and Mindflayer Guy

Closet Guy is not one of the Massacre Guys

The Creel’s Impossible Move-In Date

A Night of Monologues: Scripted vs Filmed 4.07

Plinko Power: A Theory on One’s Time Powers

010's Multiple Testing Rooms

El's Eye Blood

Day and Night: 4.07 Script Discrepancies vs 6 Nov. 1983

Covered in Blood: The Massacre may have happened in 1983

Gravity Goofs: Concrete proof of multiple UDs

Brenner's Tie Gaffs (cont.)

↳ Featured Henry Posts

Psychopathy: Learned or Genetic

Jeffty is Five, Henry is 7

Henry's Third Monologue Iteration

Mothergate Origins

Room (2015)

Young Henry, Adult Henry, and the Rabbit Scene

Perspective On The Length of Henry's Imprisonment

Henry Didn't Manipulate El Re: Soteria

Henry's Unseen Costumes

NINA And Computers

↳ Featured TFS Posts

The Real Time Frame of TFS

Drugs, NINA, The Mindflayer, and TFS

Henry, Bob's D.A.D., and Understudy Incest

Patty’s Anti-Social Behavior

Daria Rip-Off

Some Concerns About Joyce’s Role

↳ Featured Supporting Media Posts

Midnight Mass: My Dead Sister, Alice

Midnight Mass: Rabbits, Mice, and Resurrection

Fringe: Chess and A Brave New World

Fringe: Stranger Things Have Happened

↳ Featured Radiationgate Posts

Eben Byers, Radium, and ST3's Soviet Plot

Vecna's Curse: Radiation Sickness Symptoms

Henry Creel Literally Nuked Hawkins

Nuclear Winter in the Side-Side Upside Down

The Nuclear Annihilation of 1983

↳ Featured Phantomgate Posts

POTO 2004: Film Analysis

Anon Cringe Compilation: 2024 Edition, Part 1

LINK TO MY LIBRARY OF POSTS

Other Edits:

Henry Creel: Brainless Borzoi

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve (ft. Henry Creel)

Left-Brain, Right-Brain (ft. Henry Creel)

Art:

Creel Siblings Outfit Swap

Creelarke Aesthetic Board

TUNNEL VISION (ft. Henry Creel)

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[izzysillyhandsy]

Re: The Deathbed Conversation

Assuming for a moment that Izzy was completely honest and meant what he said (and it wasn't more like a last service to Ed, telling him what he needed to move on) - and assuming Izzy was 100% objectively correct and not shouldering all the blame out of misguided guilt, and what he told Ed happened, exactly as he told him.

Then what exactly did happen in those 20-30 years of Ed&Izzy?

Blackbeard… it was us. You, me.

Ok, but when did it start? Did Izzy and Ed meet as young men, did they create Blackbeard together (as in coming up with the name, the aesthetic, flag design, the silly little spikes on the ship, etc)? Did both of them agree that this scary, inhuman monster could be their safe space, their ticket to survival?

Or did Izzy join in later, when Blackbeard was already established ("When you made me first mate...")? Did Izzy kill the former first mate?

How much of Blackbeard is Izzy? How much came from Ed? Was Ed in any way forced into this? Was Izzy in any way forced into this?

I fed your darkness… Blackbeard.

Great, but how? What kind of power did Izzy have over Ed? In the show, very little it seems - at least as long as Ed is certain that Izzy'll always be there (he seems very afraid of Izzy leaving, at least when he's not distracted by Stede).

The only time Izzy seems to have any influence on Ed in S1 is in Ep8, when he is (kinda) feeding his darkness with Ed being at his most vulnerable. I really don't believe for a second that Ed was actually threatened by Izzy - as in "Izzy physically harming or killing him". At most, it was a threat of abandonment or withdrawal of affection/love.

Is that what it was? Was Ed so alone, did he feel so unloveable that Izzy was the only constant/love in his life? And did Izzy threaten to leave/withdraw that love if Ed didn't "perform", at least in public?

But then we have the retirement plan - and Izzy going along with it so easily... and the way they interact which seems so familiar and playful. I just don't feel "forced companionship". I feel long, complicated marriage. And Izzy's undying loyality.

Was Ed really so insecure and unstable that a few well-chosen insults could tip him into darkness - over and over and over? For decades? From Izzy??? With the way Izzy looks at Ed, does everything he asks, obviously adores him?

What did Izzy say to him, every time, for all these years???

For years, I egged him on, even though I knew you'd outgrown him, but the truth is… I needed him.

Ok, Izzy knew that Ed had outgrown Blackbeard. But that implies that for some time (probably years and years) Ed hadn't outgrown him yet. At the beginning, and for some time, Blackbeard seems to have been at least somewhat useful for Ed and Izzy (both of them are respected, relatively wealthy and alive).

But what does "outgrown" mean?

Wasn't it just Ed getting bored (and depressed) after years of the same old stuff? Or was it traumatic for him to be forced into this violent persona over and over again, and he was finally ready to be just Ed and feel secure in that?

But do we really think Ed went into a different mental state every time Izzy "egged him on"? That his whole personality changed every time they raided a ship (and Blackbeard didn't even kill anyone)? Is this supposed to be a Jekyll/Hyde situation?

Ed himself says that his biggest problem is that all the fun and adventure have gone - he doesn't even have to be on the boat.

How does that fit in with "feeding the darkness" and "egging him on"?

I understand Izzy needing Blackbeard (as in their shared fuckery, not "Blackbeard" as a separate person to Ed - "you and me" is unambiguous) and everyone else staying a step back. I also understand that Izzy wanted to keep Ed to himself in a way. In the end, Izzy (rightly) realized that that wasn't fair to Ed.

But are we meant to assume that Izzy wouldn't want the "real Ed"? Or that Izzy is insecure himself - as long as there's Blackbeard, Ed needs him. Without Blackbeard, does Izzy think that Ed will inevitably see how boring and useless Izzy is and leave him?

What's going on with these two? (a co-dependant relationship where both are bringing out the worst in the other at times. But that's not what Izzy said)

Well, going with Izzy's words as truth, it seems to me that:

for many years, Blackbeard did both of them more good then bad

some years ago though, Ed wanted more/got bored/wanted a softer life/wanted to be "just Ed"

Izzy held onto Blackbeard because he enjoyed being the only one who really knew Ed, and he didn't want to share him (and potentially lose him - which actually happened so he wasn't wrong)

Izzy held onto Blackbeard by feeding Ed's darkness and preventing him from being "a regular dude"

I have no idea how exactly Izzy fed Ed's darkness - by making him feel unloveable and worthless? By sharing in/encouraging violence and making it exciting and an escape from depression?

the only darkness-feeding moment we see in the show that worked (and "better" than expected) was after Stede left, and we can safely assume that normally it didn't escalate like that

I think the threat was Izzy leaving Ed (by withdrawing all affection) and insinuating that if even Izzy doesn't want Ed, noone else will

in that situation that was like pouring oil on fire

before that though, it might have worked in a "us against the world" way

something like "you'll never make it alone in this cruel world, stick to what you know"

like Pop-Pop said - Ed's good at being Blackbeard/violent (and at nothing else)

Does that make sense? I don't know. I tried to make it make sense by writing this but... the big question in all this is still how did Izzy do this for decades (this guy must be really good at darkness-feeding).

Ed as Blackbeard was like a rockstar - was it all just a show, Ed an empty, manipulated shell and Izzy the brains behind the operation?

Or maybe Izzy did lie to Ed to make him feel better, after all.