#also im forever pissed that he became a doctor. like of all things. why not a clothes designer ffs he wouldve been much happier

[mayoiayasep]

i love bleach

what are the uryu takes 👀??

ok its been so long since i read bleach media so i have less thoughts about him now then when i did when i binge read 70% of the manga in about a week but anw uryu was my favorite character and i miss him so much like his dynamic with ichigo and the rest of the kamakura gang was so nice and. i literally adore the way that he straight up would lie to peoples faces like "no i wont associate with shinigami anymore" *drops everything to go help save orihime*

and all of this is why the last arc of this fucking manga frustrated me to noooo fucking end like are you kidding me. so many times uryu goes to be with the shinigami bc ichigo, chad, orihime, and rukia and renji are his friends and he calls them idiots and when he literally almost died fighting he said he was happy to be called an idiot same as them and then. he doesnt even get to be with them in the last chapter. he doesnt even get his face on the fucking color spread like are you fucking for real. thats not even going into the fact that he had practically no fucking role in the quincy arc. which like. shouldve featured considering he was a quincy and shouldve have been ichigo getting another fucking power up god

[pokemonispain]

Im just a poor boy, I need (some) sympathy-Childe/Scaramouche

Summary:  In which Scaramouche gets the stomach flu and has a very bad time.

(Chiscara agenda series☔ Part 1) ________________________________________________________________

There were very few things that scared a man like Scaramouche. He was a being created by a god, made in her image only to be shortly discarded, he’d wandered the land of Inazuma learning then that the only person he could truly rely on at that moment was himself.

He was found by the Fatui and made a harbinger, the sixth one to be exact. It was one of the highest achievements that could be bestowed upon a soldier in Sneznyaha, one that many sought after and heavily desired, and yet Scaramouche never really cared. As long as he wasn’t bored he was fine.

And despite all of that nothing drove a more primal fear into him like getting sick, back when he was wandering Inazuma before he joined the Fatui it was something that scared him as well. A strange unknown he didn’t have an answer for despite all of the knowledge he had from the god that created him.

That unknown had terrified him, although admittedly the more he learned that fear became less prominent yet still always at the back of his mind. He may have even ended up losing it completely if only the Fatui hadn’t found him.

If only he had never had the chance to meet Dottore who was also a harbinger and the Fatui’s doctor as well as their leading scientist.

Scaramouche was begrudgingly grateful to the man, after all, he had helped release some of the seals placed on him by Baal and yet Scaramouche was admittedly afraid of him.

The man always looked at Scaramouche as though he were a thing rather than a person, a toy merely for his amusement or a tool to be modified as he saw fit rather than a person. Just the thought of his gaze, and the maniac almost child-like glee in his eyes whenever Scaramouche was around made his skin crawl.

This feeling of revulsion often turned to horror and fear whenever he was forced to go to Dottore’s lab for his check-ups every month.

All of the harbingers were always given a check-up before and after a mission to make sure they were in perfect fighting condition and were experiencing no issues in regards to their delusion.

Scaramouche’s check-ups however were always so, so much more extensive and he completely and utterly hated it. The way Dottore would poke and prod him at every angle all while looking down at him as though he were an insect under a microscope.

The look of manic glee on his face as he looked down at Scaramouche, while Scaramouche was laying on his exam table, as though he couldn’t wait to dissect him was forever burned into Scaramouche’s mind.

He did everything he could in his power to avoid going to Doctor's office, resulting in quite a few missed appointments that he was sure that the man would be pissed about. But Scaramouche didn’t care, he’d do anything to avoid being dragged in that godforsaken place.

And nothing got Scaramouche brought into Dottore’s lab faster than when he was sick, it’s why being sick now never failed to make an almost visceral fear wash over him, enveloping him like a blanket.

It was also why, when Scaramouche did get sick nowadays he learned to hide, to all but shut himself off from the outside world in his house until the sickness had passed.

It was exactly what he was doing now in fact, having caught what he believes is a very, very bad case of the stomach flu.

Scaramouche groans weakly, raising his head a bit as he sniffles, drool dripping from his lips and into the small trash can he had in his lap. He’s trembling slightly and wrapped up in blankets, shivering from the fever raging through his body leaving him feeling as if he were burning from the inside out.

Shallow rapid breaths leave his mouth as the low yet harsh gurgling of his stomach fills the silence of his bedroom.

His sleeping clothes are soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin leaving him feeling smothered.

He feels absolutely awful, completely and utterly drained and exhausted, and every sense of the word. His throat is raw as if he’d been rubbing it with sandpaper, his stomach is sore and killing him feeling as though it were actively trying to tie itself in a knot.

Since yesterday morning he’d been throwing up on and off by this point, his stomach is so tender and unsettled that even the slightest movement sends pain streaking across it and leaves him gagging.

Groaning low in his throat, Scaramouche wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, severing the threads of drool dripping into the trash can. Doing his best not to look at the vomit he’d just brought up seconds before that was now inside of it he moves carefully, placing the trashcan down on the floor.

He sniffles as he lays back down pulling his blankets further around himself. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his stomach and swallowing hard when the dizzying wave of nausea enveloping him seems to spike sharply leaving him feeling lightheaded and breathless.

He curls further in on himself, a soft whimper leaving his mouth. A loud harsh burp tears from his lips as his stomach gives a sickening growl that has him clamping a hand over his mouth as he props himself up as quickly as he can on his shaky limbs.

Scaramouche tries to move carefully but even that is too much for his stomach, whatever contents it still has left inside of it sloshing with the motion and he begins gagging into his hand as he leans over the edge of the bed and towards the trash can.

He doesn’t even bother to pick it up this time as he removes his hand from his mouth and opens it, sticking his tongue out as he allows the near river of drool suddenly building up in his mouth to drip into the trash can.

It tastes stale, sour, almost rancid, and bitter with the bile from his earlier vomiting episode, feeling far too heavy and sticky in his mouth practically clinging to his throat.

The fear that had been ever-present in Scaramouche’s mind since this ordeal began flares to life even stronger than before, blaring in his mind like a siren that he needed to get this to stop before Dottore found out somehow.

That fear only grows when he gags harshly into the trash can, the noise wet and violent as he lurches forward slightly, a choked gasp leaving his mouth as his stomach heaves.

He gets a brief moment to gasp for air, a near torrent of drool dripping from his mouth, before a strangled retch tears from his lips, the noise gurgling halfway through as a small surge of bile and the rest of the water he’d forced down earlier comes up.

Scaramouche coughs wetly, spluttering as another small wave of watery, light yellowish bile surges up his throat with such force that it sprays from his nose as well nearly choking him.

Scaramouche tries his best to be quiet he really does, his number one thought being that if any of the servants in his house heard him Dottore would be called, still, it's incredibly hard to do this when he was retching so violently he felt as if his stomach were being wrung out in a vice grip.

As he’s retching up another wave he feels something gurgling, in the lower part of his stomach pain streaking across it as more bile and regurgitated water falls from lips.

Whimpering Scaramouche moves, his stomach spasming as he barely forces back another retch. He manages to get up and out of bed, his legs shaking beneath him, his shoulders shaking with another barely suppressed retch as he picks up the trash can and makes his way to the bathroom as quickly yet as carefully as possible.

Today wasn’t supposed to go like this for Scaramouche, violently shitting his brains out as he retched into the trash can he was holding in his lap, he doesn't know which one of his subordinates gave this God-forsaken illness to him but he does know one thing. The moment he found out which one it was they were dead.

Scaramouche pants raising his head for a brief moment before another violent retch has him practically curled over the trashcan once more.

He is desperate by this point, wanting nothing more than to pass out if only for a moment to escape this hell he was in, tears gathering in his eyes as his frustration and fear mount melding together and only upsetting his stomach further.

Scaramouche doesn't want to admit it, or rather he refuses to admit it to himself that this probably wouldn't stop unless he got Dottore to take a look at him. His mind immediately viscerally rejects that idea however, Dottore couldn't know.

Dottore could never, ever know about this. Scaramouche didn't care how sick he was, how much he clearly needed the help he would rather die than be dragged back to that lab for any reason.

It was the one place that never failed to make Scaramouche feel helpless just as he had when he first awoke and became aware, this was a feeling that Scaramouche never, ever wanted to feel again.

Cleaning himself up Scaramouche trudges back to his room with a sigh, he places the trashcan on the floor beside the bed before practically collapsing onto it, a hiccup leaving his mouth when the motion jostled his stomach slightly.

For a few moments, he just lays there harsh panting breaths leaving his mouth as he swallowed thickly the ceiling swimming slightly before his eyes. He feels dizzy and he wonders if he should go get himself some water. He had to be on the verge of dehydration at this point, but at the same time he’s afraid to leave his room.

Scaramouche wasn’t stupid, while his servants and subordinates feared him they weren’t loyal to him. Their loyalty lay with the Tsaritsa, if they believed that he would hinder her mission then they would find a way to inform her of his condition and from there Dottore would be called.

A soft, raspy whimper leaves his mouth when a deep ache settled in his stomach seems to spike sharply. He rolls over on his side, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he curls into a ball closing his eyes.

Later, he’ll get up later and get some water when he felt as if he could move without his body trying to destroy him. Besides, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to keep the water down at the moment anyway.

After a few moments, Scaramouche’s exhaustion manages to win out over the agony and he falls into a rather fitful sleep.

~~~

“Ah there you are Tartaglia, I need you to-” Dottore begins as he followed after Childe.

“No, you can’t experiment on my Foul legacy transformation and no I will not bring you a live person to test on,” Childe said, cutting him off as he continued walking through the hallways of Zapolyarny palace.

Dottore continues following him however much to Childe’s irritation. Just because he had to work with the man didn’t mean he enjoyed his company, he didn’t even like him in the slightest but the Tsaritsa had made Dottore a harbinger so Childe would begrudgingly work with him.

“Oh that, I already procured a few live test subjects myself but that is not what I needed from you,” Dottore said with a scowl. “I wanted to ask you if you had seen Kunikuzushi? He’s missed quite a few of his appointments with me so I wanted to request that you retrieve him for me.”

At that Childe stops walking a scowl on his face, now that he’d thought about it, although he’d been too busy lately to notice, he hadn’t seen Scaramouche around either. “Why do you need him?” Childe asked his expression neutral as he turned to look at Dottore.

Scaramouche hadn’t admitted it to Childe and Childe was pretty sure that he would rather die before doing so, but it often seemed like Scaramouche was almost afraid of Dottore at times.

Honestly, Childe wasn’t really sure what he and Scaramouche had friends with benefits? Fuck buddies maybe? Either way, they didn’t hate each other as much nowadays and often slept together to kill time when they were both bored, it kept them both entertained that was for sure.

“As I said, he has missed his appointments with me and I would just like to examine him and run some tests to make sure he is in working order,” Dottore explained, rolling his eyes as if he was irritated that he even needed to explain himself.

Childe sighed, crossing his arms, a scowl on his face. Since he along with the other harbingers routinely got examinations from Dottore, Childe knew just how extensive Dottore’s checkups could be.

For Scaramouche, he was pretty sure it was even more extensive as it was always right after leaving Dottore’s lab that he would seek out Childe for some fun. And often during those times, Childe would often find rapidly healing scars lining his body, the scars were always very small and precise the same type that would be left by something like a scalpel.

By the next morning, the scars would be gone completely. Scaramouche healed rather quickly after all.

“If I bring him to you, will you stop trying to dissect me to see how my Foul legacy transformation works?” Childe asked to which Dottore went silent for a moment.

Sighing Dottore eventually nodded. “Regrettably, yes, Kunikuzushi is more important for my research.”

“Okay, I’ll bring you to him then,” Childe told him as he began walking away. He had a pretty good idea of where Scaramouche had run off to.

Being a Fatui Harbinger came with a lot of perks not only diplomatic immunity in certain cases but also money, a lot of money so it was no surprise that many of the harbingers had private homes in Snezhnaya. Some of the homes were closer to the palace than others, Scaramouche’s home was a good ways away from the palace.

Childe sighs as he opens the front door, it wasn’t locked of course because anyone stupid enough to try to break into a harbinger’s home deserved what would happen to them. As he walks inside one of the maids rushes over to him with wide flustered.

“L-Lord Tartaglia, I’m afraid that Lord Scaramouche has forbid any visitors until further notice,” she told him with wide nervous eyes.

Childe chuckled. “Well, if he gets pissed at you about me coming here, tell him to take it up with me.”

“But-”

Childe ignores her, calmly walking past her heading for the main staircase. If he remembered correctly Scaramouche’s room was on the second floor, the fifth room on the left.

The door to Scaramouche’s room shockingly isn’t locked either and Childe frowns because it was odd, yes Scaramouche could definitely without a doubt handle himself in a fight but he was also someone who preferred others to leave him alone hence why he’d often lock his bedroom door.

Childe carefully steps into the room closing the door behind him, the first thing he notices is the faint, sour scent of vomit hanging in the air. His eyes slowly scan the room and that’s when he hears something strange, a soft almost pitiful whimpering noise.

As he approaches the bed however Childe can’t help but be a little surprised, he had known what to expect but at the same time actually seeing it first hand was a completely different experience.

Scaramouche is laying in bed, on top of the blankets in his sleeping clothes practically curled up into a ball with his arms wrapped around his stomach a loud gurgling noise coming from it, filling the silence of the room alongside his labored breathing.

Scaramouche was always a bit pale, but at the moment it was as if all of the color had drained from his skin leaving him boarding on an almost ashen grey. His expression was tense and he was trembling, his clothes soaked with sweat.

Reaching out Childe grabbed his shoulders, grimacing when he felt the pure heat rolling off of him. He’d expected Scaramouche to be sick, yes but not this sick. He could just pick him up and take him to Dottore, it would be incredibly easy while Scaramouche was unconscious, Childe wouldn’t need to worry about him fighting tooth and nail.

Taking a deep breath Childe gives his shoulders a gentle shake instead. “Hey, wake up. Can you hear me,” he called out.

Scaramouche groans softly as he opens his eyes slightly, their glassy and glazed over, completely unfocused, and as his eyes begin to slide closed again Childe gives him another shake.

Scaramouche isn’t completely sure what’s happening to him right now but for some reason, the world is shaking and he doesn’t like it at all, his stomach sloshing as his nausea suddenly intensifies hitting him full force, and he gags weakly a small trickle of pale bile and saliva leaving his mouth.

It drips from his lips onto the blanket beneath him as he coughs wetly and splutters, gradually becoming more and more aware.

As his vision focuses he realizes that it's Childe of all people leaning over him, a frown on the other man’s face. Scaramouche isn’t sure but he thinks he almost sees something like worry in Childe’s eyes. “You’re sick, really sick,” Childe told him, his voice low.

Scaramouche knows this but the way Childe says it has a spark of irritation flaring to life in Scaramouche. He said it like a statement, not a question.

Still coughing, Scaramouche slaps at Childe’s hands, but in his weakened state it’s just like being attacked by a kitten. “Le-let go of me or...I’ll slit your throat,” he tried to snap, his voice raspy and strained.

Childe said nothing for a moment, merely staring at Scaramouche, who was coughing so hard that tears were gathering in his eyes.

“I need to bring you to Dottore,” Childe told him with a scowl.

For a moment Scaramouche freezes, and for the briefest second Childe sees something akin to fear and panic flare to life inside those violet eyes as they widen slightly, but it disappears being quickly replaced by rage.

“I said, let! Go!” he hissed, putting every ounce of his strength into pushing Childe away from him.

Scaramouche wasn’t human, and he didn't have the strength of one. On a good day, he might’ve been able to easily send Childe flying across the room, on this day though that is not the case in fact Childe barely budges still gripping Scaramouche as he stares down at him with that same blank expression.

The air around Scaramouche begins crackling slightly with electro energy and his pupils begin to glow as he draws on the elemental energy in the air.

The effect though is instantly dispersed when that deep ache suddenly punches him in the gut bringing with it an intense wave of nausea that has him squeezing his eyes shut and groaning.

Childe sighed. “See, you can barely even use your powers. Dottore needs to look at you.”

Childe begins pulling Scaramouche into his arms but stops when Scaramouche whimpers and as Scaramouche opens his eyes Childe freezes when he sees the tears gathered there alongside the fear.

“Please,” he whispered, “Please don't bring me to him.”

Scaramouche is literally begging him, his overwhelming fear winning out over his pride for once. He has no doubt that if Childe brings him to Dottore in this state that Dottore will finally take the chance to cut him open, he’d be unable to do anything to fight back no matter how much he tried.

Completely and utterly helpless in every sense of the word.

Childe falls silent as he and Scaramouche merely stare at each other, tears running down the latter's face. It's the genuine fear and desperation visible in Scaramouche’s eyes that lets Childe know that Scaramouche is neither trying to trick him nor exaggerating.

Childe has seen Scaramouche make many expressions since he became a harbinger, contempt, rage, disgust, annoyance, smug but never has he seen the man so viscerally terrified and if Childe was honest it was a bit unnerving. Scaramouche was never supposed to look like that.

Taking a deep breath Childe closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again with a soft sigh, his sympathy and pity winning out. “Okay,” Childe told him softly. “I won’t bring you to him.”

At Childe’s words, Scaramouche gives a sigh of relief, his body relaxing in Childe’s grip as his exhaustion hits him full force.

His vision blurs and he blinks slowly trying to clear it, he’s fighting tooth and nail to stay awake it’s not that he doesn't think Childe was telling the truth about not taking him to Dottore, but the more cautious side of him is too afraid of waking up on the cold familiar metal slab of that examination.

He faintly hears Childe sigh then there's a hand in his hair, gently stroking it. It feels nice admittedly, soothing, and yet strange because neither he nor Childe were people for soft touches and loving words whenever they got together for some fun. But if this is what it was like Scaramouche figured that it wasn’t too bad.

Childe scowls as Scaramouche falls asleep, his body going completely limp in Childe’s grip. He could just leave him here like this, it wasn’t as if Scaramouche wouldn’t have done the same to him if he was in a weakened state like this and yet that thought has the image of Scaramouche’s tear-filled eyes flashing in his mind.

Muttering a curse under his breath Childe carefully placed him back down on the bed. He leaves the room briefly, going to the bathroom he grabs a towel before returning to Scaramouche’s side.

He picks Scaramouche up as carefully as possible, adjusting him so that he was curled up in the crook of his arm, his head resting on Childe’s shoulder.

Childe removes the dirty blanket off of the bed with his free hand, tossing it on the floor before carefully laying Scaramouche back down on the bed on his side. He takes the towel he’d gotten from the bathroom and opens it, lifting Scaramouche’s head slightly; he spreads the towel out beneath it just in case Scaramouche started throwing up in his sleep.

Once that’s finished he begins cleaning up the room, coming from a family as large as his it’s not Childe’s first time taking care of someone who was sick, although he can’t help but wonder if normal medicine would even work on Scaramouche.

It seemed like he just hadn’t thought to take any, but from what Childe knew it was probably because he’d been reluctant to leave his room as his condition got worse. It was also how Childe knew where exactly Scaramouche was, knowing that if he’d disappeared for days on end and he wasn’t sent on a mission then it was most likely that he was sick and hiding in his room.

It was a piece of knowledge he’d stumbled onto by accident one of the few times Scaramouche had let him stay the night here.

After placing a wet washcloth on Scaramouche’s head, and placing some water and medicine on the nightstand Childe goes downstairs to the kitchen to fix him something he could hopefully eat.

~~~

Hot, it was way, way too hot is the first thing Scaramouche begins to register as he slowly wakes up. A soft groan leaves his mouth as he cracks his eyes open slightly, there’s something cold and soft laying on his forehead and he reaches up with a shaky hand feeling wet cloth brush against his fingertips.

Confused and still a bit disoriented from his fever, Scaramouche frowns because he didn’t remember grabbing a wet washcloth before falling asleep.

It takes his slow mind a little bit to truly remember what happened, Childe coming to his room, finding him in this pitiful state, but most of all he remembers Childe promising not to bring him to Dottore.

He closes his eyes for a moment muttering a curse under his breath, Childe knew he was scared of Dottore. One of his most well-kept secrets. Scaramouche doesn’t like this one bit.

Opening his eyes again he carefully props himself up on his aching, trembling limbs pausing for a moment when the nausea still swirling in the pit of his stomach makes itself known and he begins gagging emptily over his lap.

Shaking his head slightly, he takes a deep shuddering as he begins looking around his bedroom. It’s clearly been cleaned and tidied up a bit even some of the blankets on his bed have been changed.

Noticing the medicine sitting on the nightstand Scaramouche gives a soft huff as he sits up all the way. He tosses the pills in his mouth taking small, careful sips from the water. It feels amazing on his still sore and dry throat but he doesn’t want to take the risk of setting off his stomach again.

He’s just setting the half-empty glass on the nightstand and about to lay back down when Childe comes into the room carrying a small metal tray in his hands.

“Well look who’s awake,” Childe chuckled as he approached the bed. He places the tray he’s carrying down on the nightstand, ignoring Scaramouche’s glare as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Why are you-” Scaramouche begins but stops, freezing when Childe suddenly leans forward and brushes his bangs aside to press their foreheads together.

Childe gives a soft hum drawing back after a moment or two as Scaramouche sits there, his eyes wide as he blinks seemingly stunned.

“Your fever is still high,” Childe muttered. “At least you took the medicine though so hopefully it kicks in soon.”

Shaking off his shock, Scaramouche looked at Childe with narrow eyes. “Why are you doing this?” He asked with a scowl. There had to be a reason Childe was helping him, maybe he wanted blackmail, Scaramouche didn’t know.

“Because I want to?” Childe told him as he grabbed the tray off of the nightstand. It had a small bowl of soup on it and Scaramouche glances away when the sight of it sloshing slightly in the bowl makes his stomach turn.

Scaramouche scoffed at Childe’s words. “Because you want to? Bullshit, you want something from me. What is-”

Scaramouche gets cut off when Childe takes the opportunity to shove a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

“Be quiet, you talk too much,” Childe huffed.  “So I guess if there’s one thing I want you to do is for you to shut up for once. Then again if you did it’d be pretty boring.”

Scaramouche said nothing, simply as if he couldn’t believe Childe had just done that to him. He scowls the soup with a scowl, it tastes great, although he wouldn’t admit that to Childe. Almost refreshing, crisp even. It’s not heavy on his tongue either and goes down fairly easily when Scaramouche swallows although it does make his stomach ache slightly .

“Well, how does it taste?” Childe asked with a slight smile. He’s expecting one of Scaramouche’s usual insults.

Surprisingly Scaramouche shrugs slightly. “It’s passable I guess. It didn’t kill me at least so there’s that.”

Scaramouche goes quiet as he allows Childe to feed him again. Maybe Scaramouche just didn’t have the energy to fight Childe tooth and nail like he usually would while in his state.

While Childe doesn’t mind the fact that Scaramouche is being so agreeable it also feels strange. Wrong almost.

“Did you do all of this on your own?” Scaramouche suddenly asked Childe.

Strangely enough, he’d been letting Childe feed him soup for a little while now. If Childe didn’t know any better he’d swear Scaramouche was actually enjoying this.

“You mean the cleaning and everything? Yeah, it was really easy plus I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” Childe told him.

Scaramouche rolls his eyes but says nothing as he yawned and stretched, grimacing slightly when his joints seemed to creak. He was already tired again despite not having been up for long.

“I’ll take this downstairs then head back home,” Childe said as he set the empty soup bowl on the tray again.

“Wait,” Scaramouche told him as he was about to walk towards the door.

Childe stops walking and looks at him, Scaramouche opens his mouth only to close it again a scowl on his face his words seemingly failing him for once in his life.

“You can stay here for now. At least until this stops, it’d be annoying to wait for you to come back here in the morning if I needed something,” he murmured looking away, almost as if he were ashamed of asking in the first place.

Childe gives a soft chuckle. “If that’s what you want then sure I don’t mind.”

[askmyboys]

I’d call these more, my own interpretations instead of just OCs

I’ll tell you how this happened tho, i was literally just comin back from a l o n g ass road trip listenin to the musical and my tired lil brain started thinkin bout these boys and i was like ...what if i just,, made my o w n versions of em? What if I just,, and then boom, out popped well, this-

| Names: Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde

| Nicknames: Jekyll doesn’t much care for nicknames but Hyde calls him Jek, Hen or Hen-Hen, or Henny which he REALLY hates. For the other, it’s either Ed or just simply Hyde ...Jekyll has given him many ‘nicknames’ mostly they are hateful ones tbh.

| Genders: Henry goes by he/him and Hyde goes by he/him and it/its

| Ages: Unknown but they are both adults

| Heights: Jekyll is 5’7” and Hyde is like 6’6” for sure (even tho they inhabit the same body, fuck it, im makin the rules ..andchangingthemfromtheogthing but i say height changes when Hyde’s in control)

| Species/Races: Henry’s a human ofc and Hyde? Honestly, idk what this thing is, all i can tell you is he’s stinky

| Eye Colors: Jekyll’s eyes are a Baby Blue color and Hyde’s eyes are Blood Red (ooh e d g y man)

| Hair Colors: Jekyll’s hair is honestly a messy curly undercut and the color of it is a dark brown and he has gray on the sides meanwhile Hyde’s hair is Black and in a spiked quiff style and he also has gray on the sides

| Skin Colors/Body Types: Jek’s a BIT pale but Hyde’s a much more- his skin is definitely more so a Whitish Gray kinda color so it’s definitely more noticeable than Jek’s skin if you look close enough at that (things do have to change when a certain one is in control of the body, can’t be EXACTLY the same or else it might give away that their the same person hehe) and their body types don’t really change- Jek’s body type is skinny (nothing TOO bad ofc, just a tad bit) if Hyde had his own body he’d definitely be a more average kinda bulkier build.

| Appearances: Okay first things first- they both have circle beards EXCEPT Hyde’s is a LOT more scruffier (he also has thicker sideburns btw!) and a BIT more grown out than Jek’s which is trimmed a bit more and groomed perfectly.

Jekyll usually has the typical lab coat on and a baby blue turtleneck underneath it, he also has blue pants that he wears with it as well and some oxford shoes that match the outfit, he also wears circle glasses as well (they help him see a lot better p much whereas when Hyde’s in control he doesn't really need em actually) Henry has a GOOD amount of scars all over his body, whether it be by accident, inflicted on purpose, or something more… It’s partially why he keeps his turtleneck on mostly and the lab coat helps as well- he’s ashamed of the scars and he tries to hide them especially so no one will worry about him, also for some more minor details- he wears a black watch on his wrist as well (he has no piercings or nothin like that) that’s p much it for Jek tbh, his features are p much 100% human so uh yeye

Now onto Hyde’s outfit- And yes, keep in mind- he’s still kinda,, an entity or whatever the fuck he is inside Henry’s body essentially but he DOES change his clothes when going out- his main one for going out is usually a black cloak he wears around himself (the outfit underneath is a black suit vest with a long dark red tie (his shirt underneath the suit vest is a dark red long sleeved shirt), he also wears black pants, and dark red oxford shoes, and of course he’s got a black top hat on (the band on it is red, definitely keeping a black n red themed appearance here aint he?) (his other outfits, hm I can leave up to the imagination tbh this is just for when he’s travelling around and so other people don’t spot him nearly as easily, especially when it’s n i g h t t i m e…) he’ll wear whatever the fuck he wants, and it doesn’t have to be fancy in the s l i g h t e s t- he has a variety of options.

He also has pointed ears, razor sharp teeth (got them bear trap teeth but not only that, he’s got a lot more s e c r e t teefs than that ;) he’s a lot more monstrous on the inside than the outside i’ll say that much, Jek’s n Hyde’s anatomy does change and transform depending on who gains control ...honestly it probs hurt to have your body transform and shift like that ouchie) he also has multiple tongues, he has claws that he painted black and red for the a e s t h e t i c s ya know- and hell at this point he might as well have tentacles ...He might- but I mean if you really wanna know, fuck around and find out for yourself and fuck it- he also has a dark red devil style tail since he wanna act like fuckin Satan himself smh

...I made him a lot more monstrous than originally planned but eh its fitting- bc this is Jek’s body even with a LOT of changes in these regards, he’s got the same scars n such as that, he also wears black and red spiral gauges in his ears (I should also say, he can technically hide these features to make himself appear more human, i didnt originally intend on giving him any actual monstrous features except maybe sharp teeth, claws, n the pointed ears but here we are, he still gotta not arouse suspicion around him too much tho) also his eyes have dark circles around them, not because he’s a tired man he’s just a fucking- hellish bastard who loves to look intimidating.

| Personalities: Let’s uhh start off with Jekyll because he’s better and nicer and not nasty and gross n smelly looking- He’s kind, sweet, compassionate, caring, honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly himself- could never willingly hurt someone! A sweet babey man! He’s very intelligent- I mean,, he IS a Doctor after all, he takes pride in his work but it’s not that overbearing narcissistic type pride, he’s just proud of the breakthroughs he’s made ...Granted, there is one “breakthrough” he wished he could take back .. -glancing slowly at Hyde in the reflection of the mirror- ahem- but he’s always been pretty outgoing but a lot has changed since, that abomination came into his life, sure he still tries his best to be a good person, he tries his very damnedest to find some sorta way to separate or better yet a way to destroy this evil vile beast that plagues his and everyone else’s lives! He’d rather destroy Hyde than separate from him because even then, it's still back to square one only with worse damage since he’d be of his own free will now.

He shuts himself away in his Lab a LOT, as much as he can anyways to avoid going out and risking something more happening to anyone else, of course…

There is no avoiding the outside world forever, he needs things to eat and drink, he needs things to keep his body functioning and not to mention not going outside could drive him, well, more insane than he already feels he is- He just tries to be as quick as he can about it before the other takes control or tries to, Jek definitely has a lotta anxieties and fears, and ya know at this point I mean,, hell- the man’s got trauma- Sometimes he wonders if any of this is actually real, if he had just gone insane and was just imagining all this, sometimes his head hurt because of all the thoughts and potential scenarios along with their outcomes plagued his mind, he feels a lot of things he never thought he’d feel towards anyone, he feels anger and hatred toward Hyde but in a way aside from feeling so negatively toward the other, he can’t help but admire the way Hyde wishes to just simply l i v e, and even before this beast became apart of him… He was always anxious deep down and almost scared to take that jump when needed.

But Hyde? Hyde doesn’t seem to even c a r e! That thing lives it’s life without any care whatsoever, he doesn’t have any anxieties or fears at all it seems! In a way, Henry might even be a lil envious toward the other’s carefree attitude and that he’s free of anxieties and fears ...H-He still doesn’t want the other around, he still wishes to destroy Hyde of course, even with the envy and maybe a slight bit of admiration he has his morals and principals, and if Hyde continues to exist or w o r s e gets his own body it could prove v e r y perilous.

Now onto… Eugh, Hyde- The bastard man himself- He’s stinky- an evil bastard who really needs just a good punch in the face (god don't do it yourself tho, he’ll probs eat ur entire arm) Hyde’s absolutely disgusting, will do ANYTHING to get what he desires, he can be narcissistic in some regards, VERY prideful and greedy in many ways, he isn’t above committing murder like really, was he EVER above it? If he wanted, he’d literally murder you not even for a bag of corn chips but literally just one, psh- selling you to satan for one? Bah that’s amateur’s work! He’s somehow a minor inconvenience who can commit REALLY nasty and horrible atrocities at the same time if he feels like it, if he finds out something annoys you or REALLY pisses you off he’s going to keep doing it, he will literally try driving you insane just for the fun of it, really at this point it doesn’t seem like he HAS much of a goal but to just l i v e and cause chaos, destruction, and mayhem wherever he goes, he despises Jekyll in many ways, one being for trying to destroy him first and foremost but also Henny is just s o fucking weak, such a weak man with far too many anxieties, fears, etc- He’d be SO much better of a man if he’d simply let Hyde take control and STAY in control!

It’d make everything a lot easier, then Jek wouldn’t have to worry about ANYTHING ever again! No more of that pathetic nonsense! If it were possible, Hyde would absolutely l o v e to have his own body, separate from Jekyll, that way he could have his own life separate from that pathetic weakling’s! But… Even then, Jekyll and Hyde are one, in many ways they are absolutely apart of one another, two sides of the same coin, even with their MAJOR differences in personality and Hyde almost seeming like an entirely different entity just merely possessing Jekyll, after all, Hyde will admit it himself, he spawned from deep within Jekyll’s mind, he’s tried to get the other to see time and time again that he’s always been apart of the other deep down, Jek’s always had a more mad and evil side to him! Even if the other will deny this and take the denial to his grave, Hyde always persists in trying to get the other to see the truth in front of his eyes!

Aside from that tho, Hyde is just generally a dick and loves to mess with Jek and terrify him sometimes for literally no reason, hell he could be bored one day and decide “Hey Henny, fuck you, you suck” he loves to start drama, he loves to cause problems on purpose- Both of them would give anything to separate from each other, even if Hyde knows the truth deep down bout the both of them, even if he were always originally a part of Jekyll, it didn’t matter, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get his own body, away from that pathetic coward of a man!

| Side Facts: Jekyll rarely ever gets to relax or any free time, he’s too worried to give himself that in fear he’ll lose control, he’s almost CONSTANTLY fighting to keep control over the other, even though he knows it's physically impossible to do so, after all, he can’t stay awake forever, sure that doesn’t stop him from trying to stay awake as long as he can before his body practically forces him to pass out and he’s MUCH weaker than he used to be, I mean hell, given how long Jekyll seems to have been around, fighting SO much and almost EVERY single day has practically worn his body down but whenever there is an opportunity for any “free” time he usually spends it trying to figure out an antidote or a way to get rid of Hyde (I will say, before Hyde REALLY started doing bastardous n horrendous things, Jek would still get annoyed with him bc he was always that way but he actually, I’d say tolerated him more so than he does by now) and Hyde even- well, he still disliked Henry IMMENSELY so, but he definitely wasn’t as bad or as awful as he is to the other now, it was more so I tolerate you and we dont have to seriously fight or struggle with each other for control and back then Jek would even sometimes let Hyde have control.

But then… A serious incident (I wont name what exactly) but a serious incident that happened caused the two to absolutely despise each other (i didnt say up there, yes, Hyde absolutely despises Jekyll but there is some heavily hidden admiration in regards to the other’s determination, his persistence, and even somewhat of his creativity, Jekyll despite being an annoying nuisance in Hyde’s way, he does have some admirable things about him) but anyway- ever since that incident occurred, Jek has tried almost EVERYTHING he knew of to get rid of Hyde, even if separation from his body would still be bad bc that could mean Hyde would obtain his own body honestly? I believe Jekyll would still take that opportunity if he were given it, if he needed, he’d try and find someway to stop Hyde’s evil, maybe it’d be easier even if the other had his own body, he didn’t know, he just wishes he could be free from all this torment and agony like gosh damn give this man a b r e a k. Give him some fruit gummies and an appy juice carton and leave him be!

When Hyde is in control he wastes little time in finding things to do, being able to be out, to see the world, the world ripe for chaos and destruction, he wastes little time in getting straight to work with whatever his devious lil mind wants to think of- also for more monstrous purposes, back up there, I was p vague with the mention of teeth on his insides- p much teeth going down his throat and hell who knows, the bastard probably has teeth on the inside of his stomach at this rate- Another not so fun fact, this man can unhinge his jaw! Yaaay so u can see sharp teefs! ...He does have to kinda set his jaw back in place though bc god forbid Jek takes control then.

Smh imagine taking back control of your body only to have a fucking dislocated j a w wouldn’t that be hellish?

Hyde rarely ever does this for a few reasons- he only does it if he’s in the mood for just takin a big chomp outta someone (big chompy) just, just please- lock this thing away- or kill it, it's a menace to society and deserves nothing good- two more things btw, tbh I genuinely wasnt even considering inhuman features at first but ya know, I compromised- he has them he just chooses to hide them more often and speaking of, while Hyde says he’s always been apart of Jekyll (well this version I made anyway) that deep down their two sides of the same coin, can you really believe him? I mean, I’m not going to spoil it and tell ya anything in that regard, but who knows, who knows what Hyde REALLY is, whether or not he’s always been apart deep down inside of Jek or just some form of entity that spawned via that wonderful little formula.

And the final thing is, their voices are p much based on the musical ones' voices- Hyde’s is that deeper n raspier kinda voice while Jek’s is much softer and ya know POLITE sounding.