#mentions of dr strange

[adaptations-polls]

Which version of this do you prefer?

*There's actually multiple film versions that came out in 1920; this is the version starring John Barrymore

**Also released as House of Fright and Jekyll's Inferno

[frankbeetle]

the story draft (didn’t make it to the final verison of the book) with jekyll talking about how he masturbated in his final letter is so funny to me, like why are you telling utterson this information

[victor-the-vampire]

Jekyll and Hyde kinda left my mind for a bit right? The fixation calmed down- then confrontation comes on my Playlist and it's back. Full force. God damn you hyde take all your evil deeds and rot in my brain. There's nothing I can do to separate myself from this media- this goes for all Jekyll and Hydes- (except ouat Jekyll and hyde. Never ouat Jekyll and hyde) anywho, imma go listen to the soundtrack while I draw my Hyde Frankenstien propaganda despite never having posted actual omam content on here

[horrorvillaintourney]

HORROR'S NEXT TOP GENDER, ROUND ONE MATCH SIXTEEN: Edward Hyde (The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) vs. The Biologist (Southern Reach)

PROPAGANDA FOR EDWARD:

"Simultaneously a toxically hypermasculine hairy cunt AND a bitchy effeminate dandy. Literally indescribably uncanny. Ugly as fuck but implied to suck and fuck men all night every night. Needs cocaine to exist. How is that not a gender?"

PROPAGANDA FOR THE BIOLOGIST:

"Let’s see: a buff, severely autistic, stone-faced Asian-American environmental scientist that likes bugs more than people and can and will beat the shit out of you IS already a gender in and on itself… but if that doesn’t convince you already, I have to inform you that (SPOILERS FOR THE AREA X TRILOGY) she turns into a many-eyed interdimensional whale monster. Btw."

[electrosweaters-arts]

Thinkin about cc Jekyll's childhood cat who haunts the narrative (he will never love another pet again)

They did not allow that 6 year old to properly grieve the loss of his little old man cat who loved him. This action will have consequences

[fbfh]

Tony stark x daughter!reader where reader got SA'd and is having a hard time telling her dad?

usa/english/rainn hotline 1-800-656-4673 (also european hotlines, 46 countries listed).

first of all anon I want to give you the biggest most sincere virtual hug. absolutely we can talk about what an amazing dad Tony is, especially under these circumstances. (disclaimer that I don't have much if any experience writing about SA/SA trauma, I did some reasearch and as with all topics I don't have much experience in, pls take this with a grain of salt and feel free to send feedback if you'd like <3 /p)

Tony knows something is off with you immediatley. he's had a weird feeling he can't shake, but Pepper keeps dismissing it as more anxiety. When he first sees you after what happened, his stomach drops. He knows something is wrong, he knows his baby isn't okay, and he is going to make things right no matter what happened. You normally have such an easy time talking to him, but now you can't, and he knows it's serious. He doesn't press you for details right away (after asking if you're okay and doing all the usual dad check in stuff), but he knows you need him. He pulls you into a warm, comforting hug and rubs your back. You can hear the thrum of his arc reactor syncing with his heartbeat, and the white noise is so soothing and comforting and he's such a good dad who loves you so much it all makes you cry again.

"What happened?"

He asks so seriously, you know he understands the gravity of the situation. You try to tell him, but you get all choked up again, and you just... can't. He holds you and comforts you, rubbing your back and talking to you until you start to feel better.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. It's okay." He says in that dad voice that snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. "You don't have talk about anything yet if you're not ready. Okay?"

You nod, and he wipes your tears away. His hands smell a little like metal, and you know he's been working on his suits.

"Tell you what. Why don't we get some shwarma delivered from that place a few blocks over, we'll pick out a couple movies - what was that one you said you wanted to show me? The really bad one with the birds?"

You nod, but you don't laugh. He wraps you up in his blue hoodie, and has Jarvis call to order your food. He stays close to you, sending Pepper a message to cancel everything he has to do right now, the penthouse is on lockdown until this is resolved. He stays close to you, making sure you feel safe. He wants more than anything to know what happened, who hurt you, what was said or done to upset you like this. While your food is on the way and the movie is loading, the penthouse is quiet aside from your muffled sobs. Tony holds you, rocks you gently, comforts you. After a while, he pulls back enough to wipe your tears away and look at you. He gives you that dad look, the serious heart to heart one.

"I want to make this, whatever it is, better." He states, and you know he means it. He would move heaven and earth for you without hesitation, and he has in the past, and he'll do it again.

"But you need to tell me what's going on. I can't fix the problem if I don't know what it is."

Everything about your dad is so comforting, it makes your throat tighten up and your eyes well up with tears again. You try to explain through choked out, shuddering sobs, but you just can't get the words out.

"Okay, okay," Tony comforts you, bringing up one of his holographic screens he uses for work. A translucent glowing holographic keyboard appears in front of you.

"Why don't you try writing it out?" He offers, hoping that will be easier.

By the time you're done writing out what happened, you look over at him. You're almost scared for a moment, a part of your racing anxiety worried that he won't believe you, or he'll blame you, or-

"Thank you for telling me."

he pulls you into an even tighter hug, holding you close, and his voice shakes as he speaks.

"You did the right thing by telling me, okay?" He comforts you and reassures you that it's not your fault, that you're safe, and that he is never, ever going to let that happen again. Through every battle and alien invasion, you've never seen your dad this protective, this pissed on your behalf.

He gets a little more information from you, the location, the time, if you know who it was. He hacks into anything and everything with a camera until he finds the son of a bitch who hurt you. Then he sends out the drones. He has Stark drones, armed to the teeth, follow the bastard's every move, monitoring him while Tony gets everything together. He gets you counciling and resources, he calls you out of work or school or whatever so you have some time home to recover. If you want to file a police report, believe me he will get it filed immediately. If you don't want to, Tony has other ways of getting your attacker off the streets and away from you for good. Maybe he plants classified shield information on him and gets him thrown in a maximum security prison, maybe he pays someone to blast him into another universe. You don't really know the details, and you don't really want to. All you know is that your dad comes into your room after "making a few calls", and informs you that he's never, ever going to bother you again.

He does whatever you need him to do so you feel as safe and empowered as possible. Your suit gets upgraded, security systems get maxed out, and Tony finds a way to hook Jarvis up to keep an eye on your vitals.

"I'll get a ping if your adrenaline or cortisol spike, or if anything else looks iffy." he explains, hooking up the new system. "Even if it's just a stressful day, I'll know what kind of ben and jerry's to bring you."

You thank him again, and he hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you, kid."

[spaciebabie]

*gets out checklist*

ok.

Fluttershy - Yellow

Chica - Yellow

Springtrap. ... green but USED to be yellow

there's a clear pattern here.....but we need more information......

[artemisyates]

Edward Hyde, Victorian gremlin man, I love you so. ♥ This ended up looking a bit like concept art for an animated movie art style wise, and that just makes me sad there isn't a cutesy animated classic disney musical type Jekyll and Hyde movie because that would be amazing.

[mooshorange]

I've decided that it's time to talk about one of my favourite things about Jekyll and Hyde: the fact that Jekyll's desires aren't ever stately explicitly. He talks about how evil they are and how completely unacceptable that side of his nature is, but he isn't specific. We know a little about what Hyde does, but we don't even get to hear much about that. Some things that Hyde does go beyond Jekyll's original intentions (or, at least, that's the impression he leaves in his letter to Mr Utterson) so that isn't even much of a guide.

I really like that we never find out what it is. If I hadn't read it, I would probably expect that the openness of it would frustrate me, but I find it adds to the book in so many ways.

For a start, is shows just how much Jekyll wants to repress it. Even when he knows he's dying and he's just leaving a letter to explain everything to his friend, he can't say what it was he wanted. He talks about things Utterson already knows and things he needs to mention, but he just won't say.

It also continues the general sense of mystery and fear of the book. You never fully answer all your questions. Nothing is completely clear. The book keeps you thinking and wondering.

It also means you can't completely judge Jekyll's actions. You can judge the rest of what he's done and the way he acts, but you will never know the full truth about him. If it told you something horrific, maybe you wouldn't empathise with him. If it told you something that was barely bad, you wouldn't really appreciate the good and evil within him. You can't completely condemn or forgive him because you don't have all the information.

Then there's my favourite effect of this, it widens the impact of the book so much. It isn't grounded in any one time period or set of morals. As views on what is good and what is evil change, the book remains relevant. It's open to any interpretation. What did he do? It's up to you to think about it. You can project your own ideas onto him. Everyone's thoughts on the matter can apply. You can see yourself and your own struggles in him. He is whatever fits best in the eyes of the reader, and I just think that's really neat.

So, what did Jekyll do? Who knows. Maybe he did cocaine? Maybe he was gay? Maybe he just wanted to be a general menace to society? I will never know, and it only makes me love the book more.

[jammyjams1910]

TW: Sui mention

NAH BECAUSE I'M LITERALLY DOING THESE EXACT 3 TEXTS THIS YEAR AND LAST YEAR WHAT IS MY SCHOOL TRYNA TELL US?? 🤣

[thenecropolix]

I cannot stop pondering a potential Jekyll and Hyde au with Sasha.

I never read the orginal book, but having dome some digging, my understanding that Jekyll was trying to separate his "good" from his "bad" but we know at the end of the day, he and Hyde were always the same person, it was a matter of circumstances (at least how I see it).

The story behind his character interested me because it involved a teacher Stevenson knew that was found guilty for a murder, a man that from Stevenson's perspective "appeared" to be normal in how he conducted himself; naturally, I suspect the entire character of Jekyll/Hyde is based on the concept of perception and how one conducts themselves around different people (you wouldn't act around your coworkers the same way you'd act around family for instance). To one group of people, you appear as one way, but then imagine their surprise that's not how you act around a different set, as if you were a totally different person.

Such thinking has led me to the thought that the concept of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde could be applicable to masking, stimming, and emotional regulation in neurodivergent people. Given that neurotypicals expect us to conduct ourselves according to their standards and detest the way we express ourselves despite its benefits, we are forced to put on a facade that pleases them to the point that people question if we're on the spectrum to begin with.

Considering how Autistic coded Sasha Nein is, I can't help but consider him in a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde situation where the transformation into Hyde is less about indulging in immoral tendencies and moreso the repression of stimming or allowing oneself to indulge in behaviors that are looked down upon by a neurotypical society. To "normal" people, the neurodivergent person may appear beneath the definition of a "proper" person and is treated as such when the reality is their is nothing wrong with them other than they process things differently. I feel that such a subject would be interesting to explore with Sasha's character and the fantastical, gothic nature of the Hyde formula.

[luc1ferian]

Chapter 10

Hey.

Hey Henry.

Henry Jekyll what the fuck does this mean.

What do you mean "altered"??? What did-

What did you do to yourself Henry.

[frankbeetle]

I’m sick and delirious rn

[immediatebreakfast]

What happened in this chapter is really the tipping point for Utterson to actually investigate Hyde in detail, even if Jekyll doesn't want to. Hyde, instead of being a very unpleasant short man, is now a criminal wanted by the law for the murder of an old man.

And it's not something Jekyll can simply pay to get Hyde out because the victim was an upper class man (Sir Danvers) whose murder the police simply can't ignore, on top of having a witness that saw everything.

And what Utterson finds? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Hyde has no family, no photos, no frequent servants, no description except the feeling of dread that he inspires in anyone who sees him. The only person that is actually connected to Hyde is Jekyll.

It's like this mister Hyde appeared out of nowhere.

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Magic and Madness - Chapter Six

To Understand Everything is to Forgive Everything.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> Tony Stark x Stephen Strange

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Stephen has a job to do, and it almost destroys him. Where else can he go for comfort?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2388

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) Avoidance, GSW, ED mentions, alcoholism, internalised homophobia, self-doubt, self-blame, smuuuuut.

𝐀/𝐍 -> A Companion Piece to Multitudes, exploring the relationship of Tony Stark and Stephen Strange. This chapter best corresponds to Multitudes chapters seventeen and eighteen - I recommend starting there if you're reading both <3. Masterlist can be found here!

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Dividers come from yours truly.

<- Previous Chapter (5/46)

I avoided the compound like the plague.

The announcement of Natasha's plurality came of very little surprise to me – delivered, as it was, by a video call with Bruce. He didn’t ask why I refused to attend the meeting, and I didn’t volunteer the information.

I couldn’t face the man who had so unceremoniously dismissed me after almost two days of careful touches and hesitant kisses.

My hands shook whenever I thought about the look on his face when he glanced at me – the pure revulsion and desperation I found in his hollow gaze.

Despite my remorse, though, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. It had been a glorious, if short-lived, experience. My only sorrow was that it had, by all accounts, left him drowning himself and finding solace at the bottom of a bottle.

I tried to be surreptitious in my probing – simply asking after the team when someone reached out to me, clarifying individual members – Tony included – when they weren’t detailed. Nat, in her rare correspondence via video, always made sure to talk about him first, and was by far the most candid.

I got the call in the evening a few weeks after I absconded, phone ringing out , shrill in the darkness. Steven's panicked explanation was accompanied by a backing track of Nat’s staccato, desperate whimpers as I dressed hurriedly, throwing on the first thing my hands reached for – a painfully familiar hooded sweatshirt that still smelled faintly of sex and aftershave.

Wreathed in an agonising comfort, I stepped through to the hospital.

You know I’ve done this too many times when they don’t even look up anymore. A little wonder would be nice.

“What is it this time, Dr. Strange?” My head nurse sighed as she spoke, eyebrow raised in surprise as she glanced at me. “... You look like hell, Stephen.”

“Thanks, Clarissa,” I snapped, rolling my eyes as I smoothed my hair. “GSW to the lower left quadrant. No known spinal implication, and there’s an exit wound. Patient is showing transient consciousness. ETA four minutes. Is there a team free?”

She nodded quickly, pushing herself to her feet. “Yes, Doctor. You got lucky; it’s been a hectic day. OR two is available.”

I nodded sharply, pacing impatiently as I waited. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I wondered if he would be there.

My question was answered as they barrelled through the door, Tony’s hands pressed to the wound in the archer’s side. “BP is 83 over 54 and falling fast. GCS eight, oxygen steady – mostly. Pulse 73 and dropping. Looks like the bullet fragmented after penetration.”

I motioned Nat away quickly, her eyes wide as she trembled, and offered her a quick smile. “I’ve got to get him into surgery. I’ll do what I can, Natash- Nat. I’ll do my best.”

Five hours and six minutes.

His insides were shredded by the shrapnel, and while I lived up to my promise, I hated that I couldn’t do more. My forehead found the wall as I sobbed softly, mourning the parts of the archer I couldn’t save.

But I had a job to do.

So I simply scrubbed a hand over my face and peeled off my bloodied gown, unable to stop the spark of anger that drove me to throw it violently into the contaminant trashcan, jaw set.

I should have done more. I should have been better.

I should have been there. Maybe I could have made a difference.

Natasha was curled on the floor, pressed against the wall, blood trickling through the fingers pressed to her ribs as she stared blankly into the distance. I sighed as I approached, steeling myself. “Let me take a look at you.”

“… Wh… What?” she murmured, blinking owlishly up at us, and I inclined my head toward the blood under her hand, jaw twitching. “I said, ‘Let me take a look at you’.”

She blinked again, blank and disinterested. “We’re fine. How’s Clint?” I offered her a wry smile and an extended hand, pity tugging at my heart. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Clint had a lot of internal damage. A lot. I’ve patched him up as best I could, but…” I sighed guiltily as I slid the needle through the edge of her wound, but she showed no reaction. “You’re lucky he was in front of you. You would likely have lost your lung, but instead it just broke the rib.”

“Lucky,” she scoffed, eliciting a flinch.

“He’s not come around yet. He… We had to perform an ileostomy. There wasn’t enough intestinal tissue left to salvage. He’s been fitted with a bag – if he… That will be permanent,” I added softly, jaw tight with remorse.

I should have been there.

She winced, glancing up. “Will he wake up?”

I hesitated only briefly, the loss of concentration bringing a faint tremor back to my hands. “We don’t know. He lost a lot of blood and sustained significant injuries. He underwent massive transfusions. The fact that he survived surgery is reassuring, but…” I sighed again, head shaking. “I’ve had this conversation too many times lately.”

When she glanced at me curiously, I offered her a weak, shaky smile. “I said almost the exact same thing to Clint, when it was you that may not wake up.”

I spent two weeks in my own alcohol-driven despair, wracked with remorse and selfish thoughts of comfort found in his embrace.

He’d tell me I tried my best. He’d tell me there was nothing more I could do. He...

No.

He’d tell me I repulse him, and that I am wrong.

Two weeks of long and suffering silence was all it took for Clint to start to come around, and I got the call to return. I’d checked on him daily, but they thought I’d like to be the one to break the news to him.

I can’t imagine anything worse.

But the archer, to my wonder, was impassive, seemingly unphased by this permanent alteration to his life, despite my immense shame and guilt.

The only person who seemed to struggle as much as I was Natasha herself. Chained to his bedside, I’d watched her grow steadily more gaunt, refusing all but water – and even that had to be administered intravenously. Not a single morsel or drop passed her lips during her silent vigil, and the weight began to drop from her frame once more.

A quiet word with Bruce when they eventually returned to the compound confirmed my worst suspicions – that she was, once again, skirting danger.

Bruce desperately argued that her weight was holding steady, but I could only snort. “You don’t believe that any more than I do, Banner. We need to find out how this is happening – before it’s too late. And ‘too late’ is approaching far too rapidly.”

The day she ended up being taken, unconscious and severely underweight, I broke.

When I appeared in his bedroom, he was lay with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

“… Hi. I know I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be here. I just…”

He nodded slowly, extending an arm to me with a quiet sigh. “Come here, baby boy.”

The name broke me, and I sobbed, falling down beside him and weeping desperately against his chest. “I should have done better. I should have done more. I…”

Shushing me gently, his fingers caressed my back as he held me close. “You did amazingly, honey. You did better than anyone else could have done. None of this is your fault, do you hear me?”

“I knew she was struggling. I knew that something wasn’t right. But I left it to Bruce, and I… I should have spoken to her. Helped her. This is all my fault. I’m not… Fuck, I’m such a… Fuck.”

He brushed his lips against my forehead, pulling me nearer. “Sweetheart, you did everything you could. You were incredible.”

“You never called,” I whispered into his chest, voice cracking. “I thought you hated me.”

He snorted weakly, shaking his head. “You? Never. Myself? Well… That’s a different matter entirely."

“I hate that I made you feel like that.”

“Not you, baby boy. Never you. I… I’ve missed you, Stephen. So much,” he muttered into my hair, fingers tightening against my spine.

“I’ve never hated myself quite so much as I do for what I said to you. I’m so, so sorry.”

I pushed my face through my tears to claim his mouth with mine, hands curling in his hair desperately. “Show me how sorry you are.”

“Aren’t you going to ask-”

“I already know you’re sober, Tony. I’m surprised and impressed.”

“I’ve been sober since Clint’s accident. I… I wanted to prove I can do it. Before I reached out.”

I purred happily, pulling him closer. “Fuck me like it’s you last night on this earth, Stark.”

He raised an eyebrow with a snort, dragging my shirt over my head. “You got it, baby boy.”

I lay in his arms as he smoked, and I scowled. “You shouldn’t substitute one vice for another, love.”

“One makes me significantly less of an asshole than the other, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you also have a ‘no smoking in the building’ rule?”

“It’s my building, who’s going to tell me off? You?” he added with a smirk, and my fingertips trailed his hip lightly, humming with delight at the hard lines I’d missed touching.

“Sounds fun. I might be into that.”

He barked out a surprised laugh, shaking his head. “Doctor Strange, you never cease to amaze.”

I arched an eyebrow, fixing him in my gaze. “Mr. Stark, I am a surgeon who tried to micromanage his own surgery, despite the fact that I would be profoundly unconscious for the procedure. I am nothing if not authoritarian.”

He purred and tugged me nearer, fingers curling around my back to drag me atop him. “Oh, yeah? I seem to remember you being pretty submissive every time I’ve made you beg...”

Smirking, I took his hands from my hips and pinned them over his head, delighting in the soft gulp the motion elicited, pressing my body against his. “You assume I couldn’t make you do the same?”

“Y-You gonna boss me around?” he stammered, back curving minutely against me as he blushed.

I hummed playfully, tongue trailing the length of his jaw. “... Not yet. Maybe when it’s my turn to fuck you.”

He stiffened, and I winced.

Fuck. Why would I say that?

“I-I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m scared,” he ground out quietly, gaze flicking away as he reddened.

I released his wrists and lay over him, watching him with my chin beside the glowing light of his reactor. “... What are you scared of?” I pressed softly, and he grimaced minutely.

“I... I’m not sure. I’m scared it��ll hurt. I’m scared I won’t be... Clean. I... I’m... I know this isn’t exactly straight, but I’m scared that if it’s me that gets... I’m scared that it’s just, y’know, more... g-gay.”

The last word was a pained, shameful whisper, but my heart throbbed proudly.

He’s never said it before. No matter how drunk, or sober, or angry.

He’s never said it.

“Do... Should I talk you through your fears? Or do you just want acknowledgement?” I asked quietly, fingers dancing across his collarbone, and he nodded shyly.

“I-I guess you can... Try and help.”

Smiling fondly, I kept my gaze on him as I thought. “Well... You saw – pretty intimately – my first time. Did I look like I was in any pain?” He shook his head reluctantly, and I pressed a kiss to his chest. “It was... Unusual. A little uncomfortable, at points, but that very quickly gave way to...” I swallowed dryly, cheeks heating. “You’ve seen what you do to me, Tony. It’s... The best I’ve ever felt. By far. By far.” My light shiver made his smirk, hands shifting to caress my back gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever had- No, let me try again. I have never, by far, had so much sex in such a short period of time. And I still want more.”

He grinned at last, palms finding my ass pointedly. “I’m happy to stop this conversation and give you more, baby boy.”

Heart fluttering, I did, admittedly, hesitate thoughtfully before I shook my head. “I’d rather make you feel better... At least first.” He rolled his eyes, but nodded, and I purred. “As for... I mean, it’s not a big deal either way. But there’s ways you can... prepare. Which I could talk you through, but I’m concerned for your blood pressure if I say any more about that,” I teased as his face turned crimson. “But... I’ve never bothered, and we’ve never had a problem, right?” He shook his head slowly, and I grinned, kissing his cheek. “Exactly.”

His jaw tightened in anticipation, eyes drifting further from mine. “As for the last... Tony. My dear, sweet, darling Tony. If you’re straight, all your sex is straight sex, regardless of how you do it. And the same is true for gay people, and bisexuals, and all the other myriad of sexualities out there. It's not more or less of what it is depending on how it’s done. If you’re gay, then you’re gay, and that’s fine. You’re not extra gay if you decide you want to... Be fucked,” I finished, blushing lightly. He was trembling at my words, still unable to meet my gaze, but he licked his lips dryly.

“I’m gay.”

I couldn’t help the blink of surprise, but buried it in a gentle kiss, nipping his lip lightly. “As am I, sweetheart.”

“It... That’s why I never settled down.”

“I tried. I loved her, I truly did, but... She was the only one.”

“I’m... I’m ready to settle down, Stephen,” he added softly, gaze flicking to mine at last. “With you.”

“I... You... Wh... Huh?”

He swallowed again, leaning forward to kiss me lightly. “I want to be yours, Stephen. And I... I want you to fuck me.”

God forgive me, but I am going to commit every sin. Send me to hell if you must; I’ll go with a smile.

The whine that eked from my lips was indecipherable, and he grinned softly. “Stephen Strange... Please fuck me.”

... ... ...

Yes.

Yes.

Yesyesyesyesyesyes-

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

"I don't drink tea"

Oh right, apologies sir, let me magic you a glass of apple juice