Hey. Just if anyone wants to find me on the following:
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@asrealasadonut
Hey. Just if anyone wants to find me on the following:
My Main blog: himbocampus
Ao3:(cuz I post sometimes) himbocampus
I make silly edits on TikTok: himbocampus84
Hi there! Thank you for liking my artwork! I would like to request something: Vecna (not the human Henry) having fun with those tendrils, letting them caress him. He just likes to be touched all over and his own hands aren’t enough 😉 Reader (gender neutral) is restrained and has to watch, yearning to touch him. Vecna is really confident and knows how beautiful he is to the reader, putting on a show for them, being very vocal about his lust and ending up riding one thick tendril.
Let me add that I have a crushing weakness for his neck-vines, lips and chest and belly area — damn, that whole being is drop dead gorgeous!
The brain gymnastics around what leads to this situation is up to you 😁
I understand if you don’t wanna do this, since it’s really niche and monster fucker’y 😅
But thank you for writing fics altogether, people like you keep fandoms alive!
Tied Down and Tender
Vecna x GN! Reader
1.7k words / 18+ minors dni
✶ content: gn!reader, sub!vecna, tentacle penetration (vecna), restraints (reader), vecna gets himself off, reader watches, tentacle anal (vecna), prn no plot. ✶
✶ a/n: thank you for your request and kind words! i’ve honestly never written tentacle stuff before so this was fun. this also might be the first sub!vecna fic? anyway please enjoy! ✶
Omg, thank you so much for this!!! I loved every word of it!!! 🥵❤️
Anything could happen
- a Vecna/f!reader one shot by himbocampus (also on ao3)
Warnings: oral sex, kissing, not exactly monster fucking, this is vanillla as hell
Summary: a dentist visit goes south (this is soooo silly I’m sorry)
“I’m gonna step out for a moment. By the time I come back, the gas should take affect."
The blonde baby-voiced dental assistant told you. Her bright pink scrubs made your eyes squint.
You nodded. You couldn't say much with the clear mask strapped to your face. She smiled politely and slipped out the door.
Title: Tarot
₊˚୧ PAIRING: Alexander Babtiste x f!reader || Witchboard (2025) ₊˚୧ CATEGORIES: oneshot | READER 18+ | hinted smut ₊˚୧ WARNING: none (?) maybe vague smut mentions ₊˚୧ HINT: Alexander wants to see if you truly are a witch or just pretending. ₊˚୧ WORD COUNT: 1.5k
NOTE: I don't think I've ever seen fanfics of him? I have no idea why I even wrote this, I just got an idea in my head before my afternoon nap and when I tried to write it down, it sounded- not too bad- so why not. Alexander fanfiction yall...
an unhealthy obsession
summary: You try running away from the house but Henry catches you before you enter the cave. Now he has to punish you. word count: 3.0k+ pairing: henry creel x fem!reader notes: i do have to give inspo credit to @wireddless and this drabble she did. because of that drabble i realized i needed more and this happened, lol. hope it's okay! warnings/tags: no use of y/n, slight dub-con, smut, manipulation, guilt tripping, edging, orgasm denial, fingering, dacryphilia, unprotected piv, creampie, aftercare?
The screen door slapped hard against its frame as Henry’s hand yanked you backwards through it, your heels scraping desperately over the warped floorboards. His grip was absolute—each finger a vice around your wrist, indifferent to your pleas and squirming, nails digging crescent-moons into your skin when you twisted in one last, futile bid to wrench free.
He didn’t look at you. His eyes were set straight ahead, face carved with anger, jaw sharp and silent. You tried to plant your feet—he barely slowed, just lifted you off-balance and hauled you up the staircase, your shoulder slamming the wall as you tried, half-panicked, to find purchase on the banister. The house rang with the noise, an ugly, echoing thud. He still didn’t pause. “Henry—please—” It was a gasp, half-sob, breathless from the run and the terror.
idk what neurodivergent young adult needs to hear this but you are NOT supposed to give 100% at your job. I've gotten more promotions and raises since I started giving 40-60%, which my evil CEO uncle informed me is what bosses actually expect when they say 110%. My mental health has improved tremendously. I've spent 2 out of 5 workdays secretly writing my novel for the last 2 years and I've never been more respected and appreciated. Also--when you see glaring wasteful errors in the company's operating systems, say absolutely nothing! Embrace inefficiency. It is your friend in this capitalist hellscape.
the inspiration of this is your really hot bf falls asleep on his couch while he's smoking a cigarette and dies in a tragic house fire and now he's in goth heaven
your prayers fall on deaf ears
god loves you. but clearly, not enough to save you.
cultist!henry creel x female!reader wc. 3.8k cw/tw. explicit content, blood/gore/violence, blood drinking, human sacrifice, implied cannibalism, cults, religious imagery & symbolism, nsfw, dead dove: do not eat 18+, minors DNI on ao3
Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Thou shalt not make unto thee a graven image. Thou shalt now bow down thyself unto them, nor serve them. —Exodus 20:3-5
The television murmurs from the corner of the living room, its glow dimmed by lace curtains and evening moon. The volume was set just loud enough to hear. Your mother folded the laundry quietly.
“Authorities warn residents to remain vigilant as an unidentified group, described by witnesses as religious in nature, has been linked to the disappearance of several young women across rural Indiana.”
Caleb Sykes: Darling
Fandom: Horizon: An American Saga
CW: Attempted sexual assault(BEWARE), physical abuse, child abuse, period typical misogyny, child neglect, alludes to malnutrition/undereating, too much horse info, Junior Sykes, sibling violence, bullying, gun violence, dissociation, dissociative amnesia, grimy men, kissing before marriage/premarital ankle
He's a scoundrel whose quick temper often gets the better of him, no self-respecting woman should wish to be tied to him; but there is something about him holding a softness only for you that keeps your desire for him strong:
5.1k
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅ ⋅
You witness all the bad, all the blood he's spilled from others and himself, the cruelty held within him being fostered by the horrid environment of his family
Yet, he never once let that darkness touch you, not when you're the only person in the world that gives love to him without an expectation, no requirements other than to have him hold you through the night.
You'd snuck out of your home early in the morning, wearing a pair of riding breeches your parents allowed you to buy - under the agreement you wouldn't go into town while wearing them. You technically weren't breaking their rule, just out riding with no intention of straying near town.
Taking care to quickly saddle your mount, ensuring her black coat was shining with the white of her appaloosa patterning being absent of dust. You have a lot of pride in her, having begged your parents, making a case that horse riding made you no less of a lady.
Sitting confidently atop your mare, one of your father's coats wrapped around you tightly to stave off the frost biting at your skin, a wide brimmed hat shielding your eyes from the glare of the crisp sunrise.
Caleb and his brother were out riding, checking the fence-line of their property as their father had ordered them to do.
"Jun that's enough!" You hear, voice irritated. Looking over, you see two boys, the one you'd heard is standing beside a beautiful seal bay, while they other sits atop a liver chestnut; both looked like standard Quarter horses.
Refocusing, you realize that the older boy was harrassing the younger one, circling him to make his horse uneasy and flighty; which was exactly what was happening, leaving the boy unable to mount them safely.
Your hesitant, finally deciding to intervene, bullying was something you endured in school on a regular basis, so having to watch it was practically unbearable.
"Hey, that's enough my friend." You call out, drawing your mare from a canter to a trot before finally halting a few yards from the fence.
Being so close allows so much more details to be seen, they both seem older than you, gruffer, like they've done already lived a full life despite only being teens.
"Who you calling friend, stranger?" The older one questions, tone indecipherable between a question and a threat. This boy is tall, shoulders wide and clearly strong, hair a dark brown and face stern.
"Apologies, would you prefer I call you a blowhard?" Unable to maintain your usual amicable temperament with this boy being so obnoxiously standoffish.
The boy urges his horse forward, lip pulled up in distaste.
"Junior hold on, stop, leave her be." The boy standing below has your attention once more, and you allow yourself to take him in. He's got a sharp features, skinnier than the other boy you assume to be his brother but perhaps lean is a better word; and his eyes, a piercing blue that pair well with the long blonde hair the frames his face.
Attention pulled back to the older boy, you now know to be called Junior, as his horse swiftly shoves past his brother to continue his intimidating approach.
"You're awful mouthy for a little girl, has no one put manners on you yet?" He growls, now right up against the property line as he leers down at you. You try to hide the anxiety, the cold shock crawling up your neck that tells you something dangerous is near.
"Oooh a tough guy, I'm so scared. Don't tell me you're all up in a huff just cause some 'little girl' ain't kissing your ass?" Smirking in amusement, tone one that is usually used with children to mock him even further.
"You best hope your horse is fast." Junior growls before trotting away from the fence, leaving you a little confused by the words before watching him face you once more. Eyes wide in understanding, quickly turning your mare and sending into a fast lope, hearing the sound of shouting before hooves hit the ground.
Alright, hindsight really is 20/20, but there ain't nothing you can do now, your only hope is to outrun them; quarter horses are fast, but appaloosas have better stamina, give it a mile and he'll be eating your dust.
Faintly you hear the sound of another horse landing over the fence, the younger brother must've joined the chase, though you're hoping he's after his brother and not you.
"Why are you running? Thought you weren't scared!" His voice carrying a sick amusement, enjoying the fact that you are fearful of his presence. You chance one look back at his words, adrenaline lighting up your body at the sight of him only a few strides away.
Junior basically drags you off your horse and to the ground the same way a cowboy wrangles a calf for bulldogging.
"Not so confident now, are you?" Sneering down at you, hands pinning your own to the floor while his knee presses painfully against your abdomen.
"Get off." Seething through grit teeth, neither of you noticing the presence of the other boy as he quickly dismounts
"Enough!" He shouts, tackling his brother from the side, effectively dragging Junior off of you. His momentum threw them a couple of feet off, separating as they hit the floor and tumbled a bit further.
Caleb was up immediately, rushing over, lifting me from the floor.
"You alright?" His concerned gaze left me feeling a bit bashful, I must look like mess right now.
"Yes, thank you." Mumbled words while I feel my cheeks flush, shy at the way his hands still hold mine, how he has to tilt his head down to properly look at me.
"Really Caleb, you wanna do this now? Over her?" Junior grunts in disbelief, dusting himself off, scowling at Caleb.
"I'd rather we stop, actually." He grumbles, dragging his eyes from me to stare his brother down. Slowly pulling away from me, both boys looking ready to pounce, breath caught in my throat when their fight begins.
He subdues Caleb long enough to charge at you, but he wasn't expecting the knife you had unsheathed from your belt. Swiping at areas that weren't covered by his heavy winter clothing, the few options being his face and hands… you went with his face.
The blade was freshly sharpened, easily splitting open the skin of his cheek, just near enough to his eye to have him reeling back. This allowed you the ability to land a solid kick against his abdomen, sending him to the ground gasping for air
"Ah!" He exclaimed out in shock, hand immediately covering the wound.
Both you and Caleb are frozen, a suffocating dread filling the atmosphere at the sight pf Junior rising once more, raging with a fury you knew wanted nothing more than to destroy. Even with the blade your survival was minimal, you got a lucky shot in as he hadn't been aware of your weapon, but now he was prepared.
Steeling yourself for the fight, blade readied and muscles taut as Junior charged.
Then, the sound of a gunshot has all three of you freezing, eyes snapping towards the noise. You'd never been so happy to see your dad, the relief warming your body at knowing you were safe.
He rode up stedily, rifle loaded but pointed to the side, not a threat but a warning. Maneuvering his palomino stallion between you and Junior, his horse basically shoving him back as he'd similarly done earlier to Caleb.
The tense air stills for several moments, your father's narrowed eyes analyzing the two boys in front of him.
"I hope y'all got a mighty fine reason for why you are not only on my property, but also for why you attacked my daughter." His gruff voice not hiding a rage that easily douses Junior's, leaving only apprehension in its wake.
"We-" Junior stutters, unable to find the words to explain his actions, instead falling back into silence.
"I see… How's about this, boys? I'll give you, say, 10 seconds to get on your horses and leave; after that I think I could do with a little target practice. " He doesn't even allow a response before he starts counting, both Caleb and Junior scrambling to their horses, urging them forward without even having their feet securely in the stirrups.
"You got him good on the face." He states after several moments, eyes remaining on the receding figures as they jump the fence and disappear amongst the trees.
"Thank you." Voice hollow, knowing his compliments are always a double-edged sword
"Go on, bring your mare in and brush her down. I want to know what led to me having to chase those boys off our property."
"Yes, father." I whisper, knowing a punishment will await me no matter what I say.
That was my first meeting with Caleb, and it was definitely memorable. I wouldn't see him until several weeks later when my pa had allowed me to accompany him into town
"Can I go-"
"Yes, you can go while I attend business. Be back in an hour." He stated sternly, handing me enough change to afford several sweet treats. Wandering away towards the bakery before freezing, having caught sight of that blonde-haired boy moping around outside a saloon. He's alone, likely purposefully left outside by his family or brother if the look on his face is saying anything.
"Hey!" I whisper shout, catching Caleb's attention away from his sulking; his eyes flitting around in confusion before resting on me. His brows furrow, puzzled at me motioning him over, but approaching nonetheless.
Smiling gleefully, taking his hand before dragging him over to the bakery.
"Where are we going?" He whispers, allowing me to lead him around town, seeming surprisingly at ease despite us still being strangers.
"The bakery! Come on, he makes the best molasses cakes!" Grinning back at him as I come to a stop at the bakery's doors.
"Yeah, he does, but why drag me along?"
"Well, I have enough for two, I figured you might like one?" Turning to him, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest at how close we are.
"Oh…"
"If-if you don't like the cakes, then we can get-" I rush, nervous at his short response.
"No, stop. I'm sorry, you just caught me off-guard." He quickly states, eyes stuck on the floor, a faint rose hue coloring his cheeks.
"Well come on then!" Cheerful expression returning, dragging him with me once more. The bakery's warmth is the first thing to hit me, inhaling deeply, the building smelling of bread and sugar.
Taking a moment to appreciate delicious treats before rushing to buy some molasses cake. Flashing a toothy smile to Caleb when his eyes stop staring wondrously at the fresh baked pastries.
"You really like them, huh?" He remarks, looking half dazed despite the content smile. Sitting beside one another under a large oak tree that provided some relief from the sun, the slices of cake wrapped in a wax paper sitting atop my lap.
"They're my favorite." Nodding at his words while taking another bite, savoring its sweetness.
"I don't think I ever thanked you for… for what you did back there." Voice low, eyes hesitantly meeting mine.
"What'd I do?"
"Standing up to my brother, that's… Well, let's just say it's uncommon. Most just let him push me around." Eyes glazing over during his explanation, recalling the altercation and the punishment that awaited him at home.
"Oh… I'm sorry you have to deal with him."
"I should be used to it by now." Glaring disdainfully at the ground, clearly upset with his reality.
"Getting beaten by your brother - or anyone for that matter - isn't something one should be used to!" I exclaim in shock, how could he say something like that?
"What? Don't your Pa smack you around a bit?" He questions, eyebrow raised.
"He-" Words faltering when Caleb's hand raises to gently tilt my head, showing the healing bruise on my cheek. I look away, missing how his eyes darken and his eyebrows crease, staring at the bruise as though it were a personal insult.
His hand slipping away as we fall silent, my carefree joy dimming at the reminder of how my Pa had hit me hard enough that I'd fallen to the floor. He'd never lain a hand on me until we moved away from our home, I guess it must be a common punishment down here.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." Speaking in a softer tone than before, ire having dissipated into guilt at the shift in my expression.
"No, you're right." I reply, still looking away from him.
"He didn't used to… When we lived in Maine, I don't think there was ever a moment I'd seen him mad." I continue, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
"You're from Maine? That explains your lack of survival instinct." He jokes.
"Hey! Your survival instincts didn't seem to good either!"
"Yeah you're right, I should've just watched instead of tackling him off of you." Smirking in amusement at my rebuttal.
"Hah! You would never! You're far too gentlemanly to allow harm to come my way." I smile, so assured that my words are correct.
"Gentlemanly? You might be the first to ever call me that." He chuckles. I'm about to respond when the sharp yell of my father makes me stiffen. Sighing in disappointment before forcing myself up, softly smiling at Caleb as he stands as well.
"Here, you can have the last piece." Gaze caressing his features when the emotions flicker through his eyes. Turning to leave, but finding myself drawn back just as quickly despite knowing my father's patience is already up.
"Will I see you again?" He looks up, startled by the question before a pleased look appears.
"Anytime you want, as long as your Pa don't come out with his rifle again." He chuckles, shoulders relaxed as he leans a little closer. Sighing in relief, I step closer to place a light kiss on his cheek, smirking at the blush dusting his face.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning then? By the fence-line?" He can only nod, unable to trust his voice. I turn to walk away, smiling like the cat who got the cream.
We snuck around for several years after that. It being a painful sight having to watch his family's abuse slowly turn him cruel, though I suppose it shouldn't be a surprise knowing their family business.
"I love you." I whisper, nudging deeper into his side with a contented sigh. We'd made a habit of disappearing for at least one day of every week, staying away from the world and our families in favor of our own company.
His chest stutters in a huffed laugh, hand tracing the skin from my shoulders to my jaw, angling my head to look up at him before gently kissing me. Was what we were doing a sordid affair? Yes. Do I care? No, no I don't. He's never disrespected me or made me feel scared once during the past 4 years I've known him, so I see no issue in allowing us to exchange affections.
"And I love you." Pulling away from my lips to press them softly against my forehead, bringing me closer before resting his head back. There's something innately serene about laying under the golden cottonwoods, the soothing flow of a river not too far off usually threatening to lull me to sleep.
I often wish we could allow ourselves to fall asleep in each others arms, but Caleb would keep himself awake, always alert and listening for a threat.
It's a rare sight to see him as relaxed as he is now, wanting nothing more than to lave my affections on him until he forgets about the world and life we'd eventually return to.
Pushing myself up slightly, placing my hands on either side of him. A pitiful trap, one that he could easily flip should he wish to, but he has no qualms as I litter kisses over his face, slowly working down to his jaw before beginning an onslaught on his neck.
His hands reaching for my hips, dragging me over so my legs no longer rest to one side, effectively making it so I'm laying over him.
"As much as I love this, darling, you and I both know it's just riling me up." He groans, fingers sinking into the flesh of my waist, annoyed with the fabric covering my skin.
"Do I know this?" A playful retort before lightly biting at the skin, not caring should a mark be left. At my words Caleb moves swiftly, giving me no time to counter as I'm already on the ground by the time I even realize his actions. Though, I'm never one to complain, the sight of his hair hanging over his shoulders with his strong arms flexing, it's a dream come true.
"A hickey? Really?" Sighing in fake exasperation, looking down like he's trying to figure out what he should do with me.
"You could always even the score." Smirking lazily, raising one hand to graze against his face, preening at the sight of him seeking out the contact.
"You know I can't do that." Voice now an aggravated growl.
"I do, but I do so love reminding you of it." Grinning teasingly, allowing my fingers to drift to the irritated mark forming on his neck.
"When did you get so cruel?" He questions, smiling sweetly despite the fact he is incredibly frustrated at being so close while remaining so far.
"If you want more, then you'll need to ask that horrible, dreadful question." Laughing before pulling him into a frantic kiss, fingers threading hungrily through his silky hair; movements becoming impassioned the longer we refuse to separate. Finally slowing when the need for air overpowers pleasure, however, never straying far.
Caleb exhales, resting our foreheads together, heaving a sigh at realizing our time is nearing its end.
"You already know that question is on its way, but I don't want my family anywhere near you." Tone shifting to a deep baritone, grimacing at the memory of Junior and you fighting back on the first day you'd met.
"I don't care about any of them, don't care if Junior wants to have a shouting match everyday as long as you're in my bed every night." Words seductive as I gaze longingly upon him.
"Jesus, woman. The things you do to me…" An ache in his tone, offering one last kiss before lifting himself off of me.
"Caleb?" I whimper, hands shaking as they hold up the torn fabric of my shirt. His breaths are labored, chest heaving and shoulders rising with each ragged inhale. Clenched fists covered in fresh blood, teeth still bared and eyes an untamed wild as he glares at the unmoving body beneath him.
I don't even know what happened that led us here, he'd wanted to spoil me on my birthday, taking me out to the city to see a theatre show - having known I'd missed them from my childhood. They weren't his preference, but tried to stay engaged for me, and I couldn't have wanted for anything more.
It was late by the time we'd left the theatre, deciding to find a hotel and stable for our horses, then head home in the morning. I haven't told him, but I have frequent nightmares that wake me most nights, often my only solitude being to walk it off. Hoping they'd leave me be on my birthday was wishful thinking, there being no such luck as I awoke with a start, forcing down the cry that rose in my throat.
Caleb had wanted to be chivalrous, offering to get two rooms, but the sheer cost was not something I felt comfortable with him paying - especially not after the amazing day he'd already given me. Sharing a bed was similar to how we'd lay on the forest floor - only this time we're able to sleep in the comfort of each other. Of course, this meant I had to stifle the fear and tears that burned to be released, taking care to not wake him when I stood from the bed.
Impulsively borrowing some of his clothes since he'd packed extra, not wanting to put on my dress just for a quick mosey around the property. Walking around the city at night is dangerous after all, so I wouldn't be straying far; the stables would be a nice visit, a quick check in on my mare before heading back to bed.
Creeping silently out of the room, scared of waking him and any other occupants, only allowing myself a deep breath after exiting the hotel.
The stable is a separate building directly beside the hotel, so I did have to walk briefly through the dark city streets - though the stables themselves were darker due to the stars and moon being blocked away.
"Hello beautiful." Leaning against the stall gate, grateful at least one of us seemed to get some sleep. I'd roused her from her rest, a small smile forming as she slowly walked over, standing close enough that I can run my hand over her forehead, carefully brushing my fingers through her forelock.
The minutes tick by before I finally start to feel okay, mind a little more regulated, enough so that I'm willing to give sleeping another go. It's just as I step back that I sense a presence behind me. Freezing before stiffly turning around, seeing nothing but a darkened silhouette not but four feet away, my eyes straining in the darkened stable.
"Caleb... Is that you?" Voice tense, weakly pleading to any god listening that this is in fact Caleb, but I think this stranger and I are both aware of the truth. The overwhelming silence is what sets my body off, a sharp dread stabbing along my nerves at the realization of the danger I'm in.
I try to scream, but they advanced too quickly, hand clasping over my mouth, fingers digging painfully into the flesh of my jaw.
"Shhh, I won't hurt you if you don't fight." A man, but I think I already knew that… A woman would never be so cruel, so inhumane.
His words cause a cold sweat to envelope my body, shivering like I have a fever, feeling nauseous at knowing what he wants and that he will take it whether I agree or not. Catching on to my panic, he roughs drags me towards an empty corner stall, nearly pitch black as he shoves me to the floor.
"Perhaps you need some other motivation? How about this… If you scream, I'll slit that throat of that mare you seem to love so much. Maybe find my way to your room after, kill that man you arrived with?" A pleading cry leaving me at the threat, his hand grabbing my jaw once more before forcibly turning me onto my back, my face pushed to the side until I no longer see him.
"Good. Cry all you want, makes no difference to me." I can tell he's grinning, that he enjoys my struggling and the sounds of my pain; he would've tied me up if he wanted me still, gagged me should he truly desire my silence. His hands release me, reaching under me so he can fist the material covering my chest. He tugs roughly until the shirt had nearly ripped in half, pausing at the sounds of my muffled weeping.
"Please, please stop." Begging, hoping for pity despite knowing he will offer none.
"You shouldn't have been alone if you didn't want this to happen." His voice a vile hiss, blaming me for his actions. Those grimy hands drifting from the tattered shirt to the waistband of the jeans, forcing my hips up, grazing the material before lasciviously wrestling with the button and zipper.
My mind is ready to disappear, already in the process of escaping my body when all contact with the man is ripped away.
"She isn't alone." I... I know that voice... I think? It was all too much, the past events took a toll, the fear of what was going to happen lingers on my skin and my brain is unable to escape its suffocating fog. Trying to focus on what's happening feels useless, my body is there, my eyes are open, yet all I see is myself, looking at me as I stay frozen on the floor despite willing myself to stand.
When the world finally starts to feel real again and my hands no longer feel numb, I slowly sit up, feeling the tears that must've been flowing since the man first dragged me in here. Hands slipping from my eyes to the shirt, tracing the tear repetitively before wrapping the material around my chest.
I'm gasping for air, I realize, as no matter how hard I breathe, it feels like it will never be enough. I think, amidst my heaving, a name slipped from my lips, though I'm still having trouble remembering my own name, let alone who this familiar voice was that saved me.
My eyes, having adapted to the dark, linger on the figure, on the long hair, how his own breathing is as erratic as mine, the way he doesn't seem ready to stop hitting the slumped form of my attacker. His attention is only drawn away to focus on me, that wild look in his eyes softening, concern and fear taking over his once livid glare.
He's slow to approach, hands open and carefully held out, stopping a few feet away before crouching to the floor. He notes the way I tremble, how it worsened with each step closer.
"Hey darling, it's me, Caleb." Voice a delicate caress, barely audible despite the piercing silence surrounding us.
"Caleb..." I repeat, willing myself to remember past the memories that refuse to stop replaying.
"Yeah, Caleb... Do you remember me?" I've never heard a more soothing tone, but no one feels safe at the moment, not even my savior. Shaking my head sluggishly, arms hugging my body a bit tighter, wanting to rock myself while also wanting to stay still.
"No? That's okay, don't worry about it… Do you remember where you are? How you got here?" Shaking my head 'no' once more, trying not to panic at how little I know.
"We're in the city, came here to see a show. I know how much you love the theatre, so I thought I'd surprise you. We rode in yesterday, that mare over there is yours." He explains, nodding his head to the right, my eyes following the movement to see a horse with a black coat and a white stripe looking out from the stall at us.
"Seren." I mumble absentmindedly, eyes stuck on the mare.
"Yes, that's her name." Voice encouraging, my mind feeling the cloudy haze gradually dissipate - not by much, but just enough that I can feel my life return to me.
"Caleb?" Voice cracking as the broken realization that I was attacked sinks into my bones. One look and he can tell I'm present once more, pausing before beginning to move closer.
"Oh, darling, it's okay, I'm here." Wrapping his arms around me, grip light, as if he's afraid I'll shatter.
"Tighter, I need to know you're real." Trying to withhold my distress, but it's no use at this point. He does as told, no longer holding back, Arms pulling me against him, encompassing in their warmth, in their strength.
"You're alright... Shh, this will never happen again." I can hear his guilt, the anguish, how he tries to hide the trembling of his own hands to stay strong for me. It's the one moment I truly understand the lengths he will go to protect me.
Our marriage was a calm in the storm that had drowned me. He was still the sweet, caring man I'd loved since childhood; however Junior also remained the same brute as when I'd first met him.
The current screaming match between us has already escalated more that I would like, Junior refusing to let up despite knowing he's the only threat in the room - that he has the power whether I like it or not.
"That's enough, Junior." Caleb snarls, the front door slamming shut as he storms forward. He'd heard the yelling from outside, thankfully listening to his gut when it gave him a bad feeling.
"Oh? Are you in charge now?" Junior's sarcastic tone mocking Caleb's words, barely paying him any mind.
"Talk to her? Why do that when her voice is so grating? I think we'd all prefer if she just shut up!" Junior mocks, hand swiping out to harshly grab my chin, straining to force my face to turn where he wanted you too.
"Talk to her? Why do that when her voice is so grating? I think we'd all prefer if she just shut up!" Junior mocks, hand having shot out to painfully grab your jaw, straining to force you to turn where he wanted you too.
Caleb's on him immediately, roughly pinning him against the closest wall, the tightness of his hold causing Junior's shirt to slightly strangle him as it constricts around his neck.
"We'll settle this outside." Caleb grits his teeth, shoving his brother roughly out the front door before following suit, quickly ripping off the furs draped over his shoulders to toss it aside.
Quickly following after them, the two brothers staring each other down, both holding enough tension to explode. Junior attacks first, rushing forward, aiming to kick Caleb in the chest, just barely missing as Caleb quickly shifts to the side. Junior recovering quickly, being surprised as Caleb tackles hm to the floor.
I hold my breath, eyes wide at the two scrapping it out, Junior managing to get the upper hand, shoving Caleb down before landing a punch to his jaw; raising his hand to deliver a second when Caleb shoves him, using the move to throw Junior off-balance and switch positions.
The fight carries on for another minute, Junior nearly ending it like usual before Caleb manages to get Junior's back to his chest. He locks his arm around Junior's neck, not letting up until his brother struggling ceased and his body went limp from unconsciousness. He wasn't dead, sadly, just knocked out.
Shoving himself away, releasing a pained gasp before carefully standing up. He's got some blood staining his teeth and what is surely the beginnings of a welt forming on his cheek, more injuries likely being hidden under the rumpled shirt and vests.
"Are you alright?" He whispers after having stumbled over, fingers hesitantly grazing over against my cheek, worried Junior might've managed to hurt me before his arrival.
"God, I love you." I mutter after a second of silence, pulling him down by his collar to kiss him until the rigidity leaves him shoulders and my thoughts are only of his taste.
"… And I love you." He murmurs, kissing me with a frantic passion before pulling away to head towards our cabin, glancing back with those gorgeous, pleading eyes at noticing I wasn't behind him. I follow quickly, grinning at the way he drags me against him, delighted at knowing we'll likely be left alone for the rest of the day.
I drew Victor a wife. He doesn’t deserve one but inspiration struck anyway. Her name is Georgina
Figure Study | Victor Frankenstein x you
Synopsis: Victor has taken an interest in drawing the human form. He puts out an ad in an underground paper for a subject. Little pay, dodgy laboratory, a mysterious baron and a possibly foolish and reckless situation? You're in.
The Nightmare
A Victor Frankenstein/reader fic
*Title is a reference to fuseli’s painting the nightmare. Didn’t think it’d write this but here we are. fucking Oscar Isaac
You stayed out of Victor's way as much as you could. It was easy considering he all but locked himself inside his massive laboratory each day. In the few months of you living there with him, You hadn't stepped foot inside there once.
At night he retired to the bed you both shared. Victor was a man who never hid his ever changing emotions. Because of this, you have to be prepared for anything. He was either exhausted, wanting to dive into your arms or filled to the brim with energy, his hands exploring every inch of your body. He'd slip into the bed towards you like a serpent. Ready to devour you whole.
Today was different. Worrisome even. You felt it in the air. You did a bit of cleaning all afternoon to distract yourself. You planned on finishing up in the bedroom. As you dusted the dark wooden furniture pieces, you heard the light spattering of rain down the large windows. You sighed, maybe the rain would keep you company. Your husband sure wouldn't.
To keep from going mad, you decided to make yourself a cup of tea then nap on the chair near the window. You fell asleep rather quickly. Equal parts warm tea and rain soothing your mind.
There was a sharp pain deep within your stomach. You reach out, placing your hand on your abdomen hoping to soothe the source of the pain. The feeling of tough leather meets your fingers. You shifted your arms on your elbows. Attempting to sit up. Your heart drops when your eyes meet with what you could only call a beast. You couldn't scream. The thing was turned away from you, restricting your breathing.You stayed still as a stone staring at it. Slowly it turned its head. You expected a gruesome visage like the many depictions of the devil you've seen in books.
Lighting flashes, letting you catch a glimpse of its face. Instead of a demon, it had a shocking resemblance to your husband, Victor.
Thunder crashes. It rips you awake, making you sit up finally. Your open eyes dart around the darkened bedroom. The beast was gone.
You jump when you see the real Victor. Letting out a gasping breath. He passed like a ghost across the room with a candelabra in his hands. He placed it on the bedside table.
Pushing down the dread in your gut, you stand to greet him.
“Hiding are we?” He smirks.
You approach him, casually wrapping your arms around the dark bedpost.
“From you? Never.” You tease.
He begins to remove his clothes. Eyes locked onto yours. His body was such a sight. Lean muscles, smooth tawny skin. It was odd, you thought. A man who stayed in a laboratory all day had the figure of a capable Roman soldier. You place your hands on his chest.
“Hold me tonight, won’t you?”
You nodded with complete understanding. It’s a night when he wants silence and solace from you. You ready yourself under the covers. He follows making the bed dip even more. Adjusting himself over you, his ear met your bosom.
Your hands tangle in his black curls, nails scratching his scalp lightly.
Victor lets out a soft moan.
The two of you lay comfortably in the midnight hour. Except for the flicker of candlelight which danced across the room.
You didn’t even think of the nightmare. Until Victor gripped your abdomen tighter. Digging his head into it as well.
“The sound of your heart beat. It calms me.”
His voice cut to your core.
You tried to breathe, choosing to make conversation to avoid unease.
“The sound of your voice calms me.” You stare into the dimly lit room before you.
“Oh, does it now? Shall I recite something? A poem perhaps?”
You decline, deciding it’s far too late for poetry.
“Hm. A prayer then?”
You agree with enthusiasm. You needed a prayer for the horrors your subconscious conquered up. It was true, though. Victor's voice was divine. You could place it in a crowded street. With the way you left everything in your life behind to be his wife, the sound of his voice could guide you like a sheep to a slaughterhouse.
You recalled his voice booming in the lecture hall at the Royal College of Medicine. Your Uncle owned the tavern nearby. Victor dined often. Every meal he had with a glass of milk. You came around his table, and refilled his glass just before it became empty. The pair of you shared polite conversation. He was charming and handsome with such a brilliant mind. You believed he was the most impressive man you had ever met. He spoke about his upcoming tribunal with the council, eyes sparkling with a sense of danger. You hung on to his every word. When the day finally came you snuck out from the tavern, uncle’s yelling far behind as you dashed to the lecture hall.
He commanded everyone’s attention like an actor on a grand theater stage. All you could do was listen near the entrance, as women weren't permitted inside. The crowd of men enraptured by Victor didn't seem to mind your presence. After his rather rebellious exit, Victor made brief eye contact with you. His eyebrows raised in amusement when he noticed you. You could barely make out the smug face he made as he passed.
You hadn't seen him much after that. Until one evening, weeks later, he strutted into the tavern. Ever the daring and bold one, he asked you for your hand in marriage. Claiming he was too much of a fool to court you as a gentleman should.
“If you'll have me, I can offer you a quiet place in the country. Somewhere you can build a home.”
It all happened rather quickly. You accepted his offer and never looked back.
His quiet place in the country wasn't what you thought at all. It was a massive tower in the middle of nowhere. Victor had no maids or servants. He told you he’d take care of everything in his laboratory but the rest of the home was your responsibility. The tower was rather stuffy. Leaves littering every inch of the floors. Many things had to be done. You made a checklist and got to work.
The work went faster when you hummed to yourself. It kept you from almost breaking down. You pressed on. You had to. You were a wife and you had to make this place, this dank place in the middle of nowhere a home. For you and Victor. You think it’s starting to get to you. Such a sudden change of scenery and lack of human interaction wasn’t good. That was when the dreams started. He wasn't always a demon on your stomach, sometimes he was under your bed when you swept. He was by the window a couple times staring at you. You never told Victor about them or anyone. Your only solace was a journal you kept for a record of your everyday thoughts.
The last few words of a Hail Mary in your husband's husky tone brought your mind back from the past. As he finished, he asked if you would like to hear it in French as well.
You always blushed at his pride. He was often vocal about his superior intellect. But not tonight. Your eyes connected to his. He frowned at the stoic expression on your face.
“Where did you mind wander off to, darling?” His deep chestnut eyes bore into yours
“I'm just tired, that's all”
He breathed you in, placing a kiss under your ear.
“Victor?”
“Hhmm”
“Do you ever have strange dreams?”
He glared at you solemnly.
“All my life. I dream of dark angels calling my name. They sound just as my mother did.”
“Do the angels ever hurt you?”
“Not physically. I suppose they come as a reminder of her absence.”
He frowns.
“Is someone hurting you in your dreams, darling?”
“Yes.” You whisper.
“Who?”
Your eyes well up and a single fat tear falls down your round cheek.
“You are.”
Saying it aloud felt like a sin.
“You frighten me, Victor.”
His face hardened.
“Frighten you. How can I frighten you? I am your husband!” He spits at you. The words sting like venom.
“I never know what you’re doing in that laboratory of yours. My mind has created such monstrous things.” Your words tumble out like a scared child.
“I haven’t seen my uncle in weeks! I don’t like it here! It’s cold and dark. Oh Victor, I cannot stand it!”
You bury your head in your hands.
His hand touches your back. You jerk yourself away.
“Do not touch me!” You scream.
Eyes closed. Maybe this was a dream too. One you couldn't wake up from.
You didn't hear Victor leave, your sobs were the only sound filling the room. He left you alone. Back to his laboratory he went.
If I had a nickel for every time Cailee spaeny’s costar was a tall Australian man, I'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice