Pairing: Victor Frankenstein x fem!doctor!reader
Summary: Victor's family invites both him and his beloved woman for a visit.
Word count: 6.4k
Content warnings: POV third person, dark romance / gothic romance, doctor!reader, manipulation, psychoanalysis, obsessive / possessive behaviour, intellectual debate, slight body horror / gore, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader-insert.
A huge thank you to my dear to my lovely beta-reader: @the-quick-red-fox <3
Taglist: @spvderwxb @lilcrazygirlieee @jojooasis @roguevenus @have-you-seen-my-sanity @poedameronsgirlfriend @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @biasalvatores2-blog
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A/N: hi, I finally found the time to finish this chap somehow! Studies and life have been eating me alive lately, I'm super stressed and anxious, desperate about everything, but I'll live!! Pray for me :,)))!!
Anyway, this was a very chill chapter that fed Victor's delusions, it's gonna get nasty... Be warned... And oh nooooo, this chapter was definately NOT very much Hannibal inspired, I fear it's NOT my ultimate brainrot.
Also, I'm planning to do 10 chapters in total, plus a mini epilogue, so you're more than halfway done with this fic, congrats and huge thank you to those still reading, that's insane! :,,)) Muah muah muah! <33
“Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”
—Peter 5:8
“My dearest brother,
I thank you for keeping me and my dear wife, Elizabeth, in your thoughts. I know that you are greatly preoccupied by your own troubles and hope you have time for meditation in your labours. I beg of you, try not to exhaust yourself.
I am in good health, as is Elizabeth; we are soon to return from our honeymoon. Our union brings me immense bliss and I am convinced to have married the greatest woman God could have granted. She bestows tranquility upon me, and I pray that the pleasant pace of our lives combined brings ease upon not only me, but us both.
Enough about me, I am thrilled to bear the joyous news in your life! Oh, brother, glad am I to read of this passionate regard and fondness you describe for the subject of your admiration! From your account of this woman, I am convinced that she is of the same intellectual brilliance as you, and I would never have expected you to seek out a lesser companion. I hope that her genius will inspire your own.
Though I wish to inquire, as you seemed to be in a hurry, are you engaged? For I formed an impression of such fortune. And I suspected that it was for this reason you wrote to me. However, my judgement could be wrong, for I had difficulty reading your letter, as the words were slightly smudged and your handwriting seemed shaky. Forgive me for my rudeness, but it could simply be my imagination. Your handwriting always resembled our father’s; it could be the very effect of the arduous study of medicine as well!
Regardless, I digress. I and Elizabeth would be delighted to invite you and this charming lady to our temporary residence—Herr Harlander’s, of course. I need not remind you of the address, but all three of us would gladly meet her, whom I pray to be my sister-in-law.
However, I must go now. Our carriage has arrived, and I and Elizabeth are to travel to Edinburgh.
We shall meet soon. Please respond as soon as possible. I eagerly await the date of your arrival. I ask you both not to reject the invitation, I insist!
I and Elizabeth send our best regards from one of our many stops. We wish you well, and hope to see you soon and in good health.
I sincerely miss you, brother.
Yours,
William.”
The elegant clopping of the horses’ hooves over the stone ground, and the rustling of the moving carriage accompanied the voice of Victor’s beloved. “Are you eager to reunite with your brother after not having seen him for so long?”
The pair sat side by side within the carriage, their bodies parting by a few inches.
Throughout the ride, Victor had felt a growing sense of frustration. They had not even once spoken of their previous liaison, though he had desperately attempted to broach the topic. She persisted in redirecting the conversation when it came at hand, and she seemed to purposefully torment him with the withdrawals of his sincerest affection. His arduous trials of pressing his lips to hers, of hugging her body, or caressing any part of her were heartlessly rejected, as if nothing truly happened between them.
Victor could not understand the reason behind her coldness; he dared not call it modesty or a want of propriety, for he considered those characteristics long since erased in her once their passion merged that evening.
He felt as though their shared moment was no more than a dream, an illusion—so unreal.
“Well?” she prompted once more, re-capturing his attention.
“I am indeed, Miss,” he answered at last, straightening his spine as if to prove he was grounded in the present moment.
She hummed, observing his face intently for a moment—it made him shudder. “Tell me, what must I expect of your family? I do wish to make a good impression.”
“I assure you, they will be fond of your company, regardless of whether you try to comply with their taste in people, as long as I am the one bringing you in.”
“My, then I shall try my earnest to not bring shame to you. I pray not for you to regret the decision of presenting me to your beloved ones,” the woman chuckled, looking out of the window. Due to the annoying bonnet she wore, her face was fully hidden from his eyesight.
He moved closer, trying to catch a glimpse of her. “You were invited. I should say, today you are our guest of honour.”
“You must have told your brother much about me for him to invite us both, I hope not the worst.”
“No, not at all! I would never,” he insisted, following the lines of her silhouette with his eyes while she watched the passing houses. She sat tall, composed and, perhaps, even somewhat prideful.
Victor could no longer resist his urges, having succumbed to them once before. His arm swung over her shoulders, pulling her close to him. It must have caught her off guard as it forced her to face him.
“I am glad that you shall meet my family,” he whispered into her ear.
“What has suddenly gotten into you?” she asked. Though not out of concern, nor was there anger or annoyance in her voice, but curiosity.
“Oh, you most certainly know the reason.” He sighed, brushing the tip of his nose against her cheek while he breathed into her ear. “You certainly know my motives, but you choose to feign ignorance.”
“Well then, do explain my ignorance,” she cooed softly, challenging him with an intense gaze and an angelic smirk.
Victor needed to test his hypothesis before accusing her of something more, to test whether his beliefs were true. The only way to examine it was by conducting an experiment. Therefore, his lips neared towards hers, and his hand gently caressed her thigh, though her dress and the raincoat covered the yearned flesh—
Then the carriage stopped at the most inconvenient timing; the horses neighed loudly, stomping with their heavy hooves in place out of fatigue. The driver called out that they had arrived.
Victor cursed under his breath, glowering through the window at the high walls of Harlander’s residence.
Without uttering a word, the woman climbed out of the carriage, and he felt the sting of salt burning the open wound in his heart.
Even while walking alongside her to the door, he dared not to touch her again, not to question her opinion of his boldness. He presumed that she might have felt offended by his intruding on her space, but it was hard to identify her true emotions from his sidelong glances. Her face was as still and reserved as ever. He wondered whether she was mentally preparing herself for the meeting, thinking of all possible scenarios for conversations, or dreaming of the kiss they could have had.
Even while in his daze, Victor knocked on the door with the elegant door knocker, unable to lower his gaze from the face of his beloved.
He could not recall the door opening and a familiar voice greeting them, “Brother! Come in, come in!”
He could not even recall coming into the house, or hugging his dear brother tenderly, or hearing his beloved and William exchanging polite introductions, slowly becoming more familiar with one another.
Victor was entirely absorbed in the woman, the shadows and light dancing within her irises, the curl of her lips, every movement of her muscles, a stubborn strand of hair poking out of her desired hairstyle.
He could not suppress the stab in his chest that radiated to his guts; the tingle that spread through every single branch of his nerves.
He did, however, remember entering the salon, seeing Elizabeth stand up from the sofa to greet her guests. He flinched as she kissed the woman on the cheek.
Victor felt obsessed, territorial, and he despised the fact that these emotions had integrated into the very marrow of his bones. He was taken aback by the intensity of his suffering as jealousy coiled in his veins, as his beloved spoke to Elizabeth, giving the other woman all her attention, and not even sparing him a glance. His hands clenched tightly into fists and his lower eyelid even twitched as he stalked the pair.
Perhaps he even regretted presenting his woman to his family.
The hosts and their guests were seated at a large dining table, ready to feast and to converse with one another. However, Henrich was still nowhere to be found.
“And what have you served us?” the woman queried, observing the plate placed before her.
“A lamb,” William answered with a bright smile, clumsily covering his thighs with a napkin. “Freshly harvested, roasted and rubbed with spices from countries of the East. We hope it pleases your palate!”
“Please, do not doubt it. I am very grateful for your consideration,” she replied politely, following the etiquette as the others did.
All of them indulged in the merriment with loud conversation, pouring each other cups of tea or wine, though one preferred to drink milk. The cooked lamb with the mingling aftertaste of the spices from faraway lands added to the ease, modifying their voices to jubilant and relaxed in the happiness of the union. Even the light of the candles on the table fluttered along with their laughter.
However, Victor’s mind drifted away from the blissful atmosphere, though he did remember asking his brother and his wife a polite question: ‘how was your honeymoon?’, to which his beloved added: ‘where have you been, and what have you seen?’.
William had huffed and blustered, unable to contain himself from reminiscing, seemingly excited to share his experiences from the honeymoon, sometimes tenderly patting his wife’s hand. Willam’s face had brightened and a new, healthy flush splashed it; though Victor could not recall much of his narrative.
He was much more interested in analysing Elizabeth, seeing her for the first time after so long. He had noticed the shift in her demeanor: she was paler, more modest and subdued. William’s touch did not uplift her spirit, and yet, she was not bothered by it either. It seemed as though her inner light had died, as though she repressed herself; her gaze was now lifeless as she stared at the wooden floor with narrowed eyes.
However, once Elizabeth’s eyes rose to meet his—they were burning, piercing right through him with a passionate disdain hidden in their depths. It made him instantly avert his gaze.
And Victor noticed: he no longer felt those butterflies fluttering in his chest while looking at her. All of his affection had since shifted to his beloved.
His woman’s voice brought Victor back to reality. “You seem displeased, Missis Frankenstein, is the taste revolting?” the woman began once William was out of words.
“I apologise if I ruined your appetite, yet it is not the taste that is revolting,” Elizabeth replied politely, staring at the meal. She chewed as if eating a rock, and seemed to struggle swallowing the food. “It is the thought of a life I am consuming.”
“Tell me, how does it make you feel?” the woman asked, locking her eyes onto Elizabeth who avoided meeting hers.
Elizabeth’s brows knitted as she thought. “I feel disgust, guilt, grief… As though my mouth is filled with dirt.”
The woman hummed softly, taking a careful bite of the meat. “Yet, we are now following the natural order of life. One must consume the other to survive.” Then her gaze fell to the red cross resting against Elizabeth’s neck, and then back to her face. “After all, even God encourages us to eat his lambs.”
The hostess’s eyelids flickered at the bold claim, forcing her to look up. “In Eden, the first humans did not consume meat. They only began the practice following the Great Flood. It was an act of necessity, not of free will.”
“If words of encouragement, given in the Old Testament, are not enough, I can give you more instances. God, the Father, accepted the burning of the lambs as a sacrifice in the Old Testament. Jesus, the God Son, ate meat, importantly lambs, in the New Testament. Did they not?”
Victor shuddered uncomfortably, feeling a bit tense at the sudden change of direction in the conversation. He worried that this might ruin his family’s perception of his woman. Sweat began to bead at his collar beneath his white shirt.
He was not the only subject of her observations.
“I am willing to understand the implications of your words— Are you insinuating that God is cruel? God is vulgar?” Elizabeth pushed the plate away from herself. A spiteful spark beamed brightly in her dark eyes.
“God is just.” The woman replied. Victor resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow in surprise; he sensed that William had also subtly pulled back.
“Indeed, yet God does not bring unnecessary suffering,” Elizabeth said slowly, as though choosing her words carefully. “We should not excuse ourselves in His image.”
“But are we not created in God’s image?” The woman took a sip of wine, washing away the meat. “If God is allowed to consume meat without remorse, or disgust, guilt, grief, why should we?”
“God is not a human, and we must not compare ourselves with Him,” Elizabeth replied briefly, yet dismissively, clearly disliking the quoting of her own words.
“Of course, yet, we portray God,” the woman continued, as though adrenaline made her speak onward, yet her state was calm and collected. “The thought might not change your feelings towards the act, but it might grant you a different perspective on its morality. Eating meat is not immoral.”
“By your rationale, perhaps eating a human is morally grey?” Elizabeth exhaled as if laughing, folding her hands neatly on her thighs, though she leaned closer to the table.
William coughed quietly, embracing his wife’s hand beneath the table, silently begging her to control her rising temper. Victor felt inclined to follow his example, yet knew not to interfere.
“Is it not done by God also?” the woman replied with a smirk on her face while cutting through the flesh on her plate. “Remember, God did accept human sacrifices. God refers to humans as ‘lambs’. He praises his lambs, nourishes them, and in the end—eats them, though metaphorically. He kills. A murder is an act of violence, but if God commits it—it is just.”
Elizabeth’s head inclined to the side. “Do you believe in God, Doctor?” Coldly uttering the woman’s title, eyes narrowed at her as though she were trying to see right through her guest.
“Why of course.”
Elizabeth halted, ignoring William’s desperate signalling. “Are you playing God too, Doctor?”
“I sense that you are referring to Doctor Frankenstein’s work. In that case, then no, I am not the same,” the woman answered, grinning slightly wider than usual. Victor thought that the challenge, or rather ‘insult’ amused her; he swallowed his pride and remained silent.
“Your words are a double-edged sword. What do you seek to portray?”
“That I, unlike Doctor Frankenstein, do not experiment with death. I am not interested in deceiving God and disrupting His order. I respect His design: Death is the gift for humankind, and we may only allow ourselves to push it further away, yet respectfully, until it inevitably comes to us. However, stopping it permanently is simply illogical,” the woman spoke ever so slowly while chewing, fully aware that talking with a full mouth would be considered rude.
Elizabeth chuckled; Victor felt as if the pair of them had formed a bond at that very moment. It made him feel hurt: he wanted to argue, but his beloved continued before he could open his mouth:
“However, this meal is quite symbolic. It represents our connection to God and His wrath towards the lambs that do not follow the herd. God is not afraid of punishing, bringing plague and horrors of the Earth upon those who ignore Him. The lamb should be our reminder: to obey, to follow the herd, and to be sacrificed if God wills it. To live and to die when God commands. To be afraid, as you are followed by His watchful eyes. To never forget that you are but a lamb.”
Elizabeth’s gaze sparkled with curiosity, unknowingly if in a good way. “That is God’s design. He must keep order; otherwise, the world would crumble.”
“Absolutely,” the woman agreed, licking the remnants of sauce from her lips.
Victor knew that Elizabeth must have greatly disliked his beloved after the pointless arguing and the poor attempt to change her mind. However, he remembered his own first debate with Elizabeth and realised: she was intrigued, though suspicious and critical, perhaps even hateful, but interested.
Regardless, Elizabeth placed her elbows on the surface of the table, supporting the weight of her upper body. A playful smirk plastered her lips, and a rosiness even appeared on her previously pale cheeks. “Do you consider yourself an equal to God, Doctor?”
The last bite lingered on the woman’s plate.
An unfamiliar expression flashed across her face—Victor thought that it was a glimpse of a true emotion. The mask of politeness, that subtle angelic charm fell, replaced with a hint of something more sinister, though it was only a light grin. She even forgot to blink.
The change was fleeting, yet vital—he had never seen it before.
The woman peeled her eyes away from Elizabeth as she stabbed the last piece of meat. It was like a part of her was finally heard.
“Well, if one wishes to be an equal to God, one must create one’s own path, flee from the herd, but God hates disorder. Therefore, one must hide from God. Otherwise they will be devoured, as we are now eating the lamb. In this instance, the lamb died not due to natural causes, but by obeying the order.”
She inhaled meaningfully. Her gaze lingered at the piece of meat skewered on the fork, opening her mouth to finish it. Then her eyes rose to Elizabeth, concealing her intent with an unmoving smile—the expression Victor was so accustomed to. “I believe in God, I respect God and His vision; however, I do not hide from God.”
The two brothers sat beside one another on the sofa in the smoking room, enjoying some grapes and fine drinks. They spent their time reminiscing about their childhood, though Victor had the lesser pleasure of indulging in the past, and only awaited for the return of his lover. The ladies had retreated to Elizabeth’s study, as the woman had expressed an interest in seeing her collections of insects.
During their conversation, Victor saw the glowing aureola surrounding his brother’s golden head. There was the familiar undercurrent of mild disdain; unfair, involuntary, but there. William was the sunshine boy from birth, absorbing all of the happiness his environment could offer. Even a simple, yet honest talk, but with a brother whom he truly loved, uplifted his spirit to a higher degree.
However, after some time, William’s light intertwined with gloom, or rather worry, as leaned closer to his brother. As though he feared someone could be listening in. “Victor, is everything alright?”
“Brother, I am in love,” Victor answered, his lips curling upwards with these words—they sounded so unbelievable, but so pleasurable to spell out loud.
“That I can see,” William agreed, his voice slightly vibrating, as though in disbelief.
“I plan on marrying her,” Victor added, watching the increasingly shifting reaction in his sibling’s face.
William blinked a few times, with a smile similar to Victor’s spreading across his face. “Have you proposed to her already? Your letter was quite unclear and I wished not to intrude as long as our guest was in the room.”
The brothers were so different, from their appearance to their careers and personalities, yet the similarity of their facial expressions connected them both.
“No, I wanted you to meet her before I would commit to the intent,” Victor chuckled, finishing the remaining cup of milk and helping himself to grapes with the other hand.
“Oh.” William joined to feast on a ripe, curiously staring at his brother. Then he stopped chewing to think for a moment. “Do you wish to know my opinion of her?”
“Go on,” Victor replied simply.
William appeared a little hurt by his dismissiveness, but regardless, still chose to answer. “I think she is... Peculiar. Handsome and intelligent, with a way of thinking that is specific to her; however, our interactions have been too brief to form a coherent opinion. Well, considering your interest in her, I believe she is a woman you could possibly dream of marrying. Though…”
Victor nodded joyfully until the last remark. “What is it?”
“I am not questioning your judgement.” William raised his hands in mock surrender. “For only you know whether you truly love her or not. Yet… Are you certain of proposing to her? Is your decision well thought out?” One of William’s eyes squinted, afraid to hear his response. “Yet again, I am insulting you, but I might think—”
“Yes, it is well thought out. Surely, there is a bond between us, you must have noticed,” Victor interrupted, roughly patting his brother’s cheek while feeling the blood flooding his own. “I will need you to be my best man.”
“Well…” William murmured, smiling widely. Rosiness coloured his cheeks. “I would be honoured. As long as you are happy, I will also be happy for you.”
Victor smiled to himself proudly, placing his cup on the coffee table.
“Victor,” William suddenly whispered, drawing his brother’s attention to himself again. “You have changed.”
“Have I?” Victor replied, wiping the droplets of milk off his lips with the back of his hand.
“Yes, though I cannot name it, you are far more relaxed, yet somehow anxious, distracted even. I wonder, have you even listened to what I was speaking about before?.. Perhaps love has truly changed you. You are not the same man I once knew.” Then William giggled, ruffling his blonde hair. “Ah, please, pay no attention to my silly words. I know not what I speak of also…”
“Ah, look who has finally come to see me,” a reedy voice whispered slowly, once Victor’s face peeked through the doorframe to a luxurious room. His tremor sounded disheveled and fairly quiet, weak.
On William’s suggestion, Victor decided to visit a person whom he had once somewhat appreciated, but now held so much resentment for.
After all, it would be rude not to meet the master of the house—Henrich Harlander.
Since their last meeting months ago, syphilis had destroyed him entirely, consuming the remaining parts of his body. One could hardly recognise him by his facial features, as the disease had eaten away at his nose and lips, and his bare teeth shone brightly. His skin was red with flush and rashes and burned hot, yet it had a sickly grey tone, blemished by bumps and deep wounds that revealed the holes in his facial bones. The ridiculous wig with which he had once hid his bald head was now long gone, revealing the deep ulcers that penetrated into his cranium.
His once determined and hopeful eyes were covered by a milky layer of mist, and also decayed like anything else.
Death was a natural order of life, Victor’s closest companion, but even then—seeing a once bright man now lying in a bed, covered by multiple blankets, surrounded by pillows and all, a prisoner in his own body made Victor uncomfortable. It was like a grotesque inversion of his own work. A rotting corpse which still breathed and spoke and moved, as though it had forgotten to die, but teetering on the brink.
“You did not join us for the meal. I was worried,” Victor spoke up, subconsciously averting his eyes from the man’s face from time to time.
Henrich took a breath in; it sounded like his weak lungs would collapse at any second. “Consider yourself lucky. My appearance, I fear, would only ruin your appetite. I myself would be greatly uncomfortable dining with someone in my condition.”
“We separated on bad terms last time.” Victor sat down on a nearby armchair, ignoring his once-patron’s response. Victor felt pity towards the man, just as he had when he first discovered his condition.
“I wonder who was at fault…” Henrich chuckled, moving his head only slightly to get a better glimpse at a once-friend.
“You know my reasons, I simply had no other choice. I could not put my life’s work at risk for the sake of fulfilling your wishes when there is only one possible outcome. It would be a waste of the money you had spent, as well as the last moments of your life, and my time.”
“Even now, you refer to my body as a waste?” Harlander huffed, but it seemed like he had tried to laugh. “Luckily, my heart is pure, and I carry no ill thoughts of you, only respect, Baron. That reminds me, how is your project? Well, I hope?”
“Very well,” Victor replied automatically, but only out of politeness, turning his head to the window. “However, I do not think badly of you either. How are you holding up?”
“Barely,” Henrich hardly exhaled the word, unable to blink due to the decay of his eyelids, though the flesh twitched as if he had intended to. “I am paralysed. I can no longer move. The most I could do is move my head. I am undeniably a burden, but glad to be in the care of my dearest niece Elizabeth. Yet, my suffering is immeasurable; I am rotting from the inside out. And to think that all of this could have been prevented if only you…”
Victor nodded, slapping his thighs. “Well then, it was lovely seeing you. I wish you… Good health—”
As Victor was about to stand, Henrich wailed out in pain. It spooked Victor so much that he flinched and rushed to his bedside, fearful of seeing this man die before his eyes.
However, leaning over Heinrich, Victor realised the shaking and wheezing coming from his was laughter. He leaned away from the bedridden man, glowering down at him. It was only a clever play.
“Sit down for a little longer, will you not? It has been a while since I last spoke with you,” Henrich said gently, slowly, as to protect his vocal cords from tearing.
Victor sighed, out of both relief and annoyance. “I believe I am needed—”
“Trust me, you are not. Now sit.” Though Henrich’s voice was fragile, the demand sounded threatening, making Victor flop on the chair again.
The childish grumpiness in his face made the sick man gargle out a chuckle. Then Harlander grew serious, his now dull eyes boring into Victor’s. “I wish to inquire, what do you think of my doctor? My caregiver?”
Victor raised a brow and shrugged in the armchair, wishing to be far away from the grotesque skull of a visage somehow still the man whom he once was fond of. “I would firstly prefer to know who your doctor is, only then can I state my opinion.”
“Well, it is the Miss whom you have visited with.”
Victor could not hide the surprise in his face, yet he sat still. “Her? How?— Then… Why… How could William not have recognised her?”
“You see, they have just recently returned and, once they left for their honeymoon, I had occasion to change my doctor. The previous one irritated me, not necessarily for being a bad doctor, but I grew tired of his nervous disposition. The new doctor I had chosen was our dear guest’s father; however, you see, the man is quite busy, overbooked and overworked, so he referred me to his daughter. And you know me, I am a man for science, I am all for innovations, therefore, I was curious to see a woman performing the task.” Henrich paused, coughing dryly. “Please, water.”
Victor did as asked, picking up a glass from beside the bed and assisting the man in taking a sip. Victor was patient, daring not to speak, fearing that the man might lose a thought. He wished to gather every single word about his beloved.
“So, now she is my caregiver, my doctor. She visits me every few weeks; therefore, Elizabeth and William have not had occasion to meet her before today. I think she is extraordinary, a true artist of medicine, and I must admit, I have never been treated as humanely as she treats me, once I was diagnosed with syphilis. If only my illness had approached me later, perhaps she would have found a way to cure me! She would have found a way for me to live.” He remarked and sighed dramatically, shifting his trembling head to a wall. “Alas, I can only dream of a different scenario, my fate was sealed before I was born…”
Victor shook his head, digesting his monologue for a bit, ignoring the veiled insult. “Well, if you are content with her service, I am delighted to know of it—”
“And you, Baron, what is your view on her?” Harlander interrupted, staring at him again with those soulless eyes.
It was as though death itself was staring back at Victor.
At first, he did not want to answer, but then he thought carefully, opening his mouth once more, “She is remarkable.”
“A worthy opponent to the Victor Frankenstein?” Henrich laughed, coughing afterwards.
“A companion, I would say.” Victor shook his head, failing to conceal a prideful smirk. “I intend on marrying her.”
“Ah, good luck.” Henrich laughed weakly.
“Thank you—”
“You misunderstood me: good luck.”
“And I heard you clearly…”
“Why would you not ask for my reasoning for wishing you good luck?”
Victor groaned, slapping his palms against his thighs again, and rolled his eyes, making sure to express his clear irritation. He had forgotten the cocky attitude which his then patron possessed. “Go on, enlighten me.” He leaned back again, arms crossed over his chest.
“You know, your tone is quite rude. But fortunately for you, I will ignore it,” Henrich cackled. “I do recall your disinterest in conversing with high society. Well, do you know that you are not the only intelligent man my doctor has bewitched in the past?”
Victor’s lower eyelid twitched, though he acted unbothered by knowing his beloved’s previous relationships. He half shrugged and forced his voice into a tone of unaffected calm. “Is it a bad thing? She is a brilliant woman, surely, intelligence alike could only attract her. I perceive it only as something natural.”
“The problem is that these men she previously entranced were brilliant—just like you. Proud. Influential with their novel ideas, their way of thinking. They attempted to define new laws of nature, and yet every one of them has since lost their minds. Every one of them changed after meeting her. Except for those whom she works with… Baron, I fear she hunts men like you—”
“Nonsense!” Victor snapped with a bark of laughter. He stood up swiftly and strode quickly across the room. “I was never keen on gossip, and my judgement on it shall not change. I will not allow myself to believe the lies of those scandalmongers who have also previously judged me!” He spoke imperiously, voice dripping with venom. “Oh, I wonder, how do they speak of you? Only well, I hope? Especially concerning your syphilis?”
“You have not changed at all!” Henrich exhaled painfully. “I only told you as I still consider you a friend, and you see me as a foe! I only wanted to advise you to converse with other men of your field, perhaps they might provide you with better insight?”
“There is no need. I doubt not her affection towards me,” Victor laughed, but it sounded more hysterical than genuine. His hands pointed to his heart. “We are meant to be!”
“Believe what suits you best, your mind I might not change. But do me a favour, do not tell her of what I have said, alright? I do not wish to lose a good doctor…”
“Trust, I have not the faintest interest in telling her such a thing. It is insulting, really!” Victor huffed, stomping towards the door.
“Baron! Stay!” Henrich called out weakly, coughing again painfully. “I have yet one more question to ask!”
“What is it? You still have a mouth, a tongue, a long one in fact, so speak!” He turned to the dying man again, showing off a deep frown.
Though Harlander’s lips were dissolved, he managed to grin like a Cheshire cat. He had caught the attention of his prey again. “It is more of a request. I would like you to consider: if death never brought you to God, perhaps a woman will?”
Victor inhaled sharply. “Laugh as much as you want, you bald-headed— You do not have much time left!—”
Suddenly, the door swung open.
He grew pale, as if seeing a ghost walk past him.
“Ah, there is my doctor,” Henrich chuckled, seemingly unaffected by Victor’s offence and taking delight in his shock. “I am glad to see you again, Miss. Is it the time of our consultation? I assumed we would meet again in a fortnight?”
“You are not mistaken,” the woman replied, walking past Victor and sitting down on the edge of her patient’s bed. “How are you feeling?”
“A man with a condition like mine could only feel a single way, but with you here, Doctor, I feel much better.”
The woman looked back at Victor over her shoulder with a delighted smirk. “Give us a moment, please.”
And Victor felt defeated, only able to remove himself from that dreadful chamber. Once he stepped to the other side of the door, his legs gave out, and he barely could have held himself together out of anger, jealousy and pity. So many emotions boiled within him, and only a firm drag of his hand over his face helped somewhat relieve them.
When the woman finally left Henrich’s room, it was a signal that it was time to leave.
While expressing their farewells, Victor noticed that his beloved had formed an unlikely bond with Elizabeth as both of them tenderly squeezed each other’s hands with a glimmer of mutual understanding in their eyes. It made him feel uneasy yet again, jealous.
The pair decided to walk for a little longer before hiring a carriage, for their legs felt stiff after sitting.
The sun was settling down, and fewer people walked the cobbled streets.
The smell of rain reached their nostrils, warning of the oncoming change in the weather. However, now it was pleasant and warm, with the last rays of sunlight playing with their shadows.
Peaceful moments like this increased Victor’s heart rate as their arms barely brushed one another, and when his beloved did not place them behind her back, even their hands would occasionally touch. It felt so intimate, creating a tingling in his fingertips. An ache to bring her closer. Even then, he chose to respect her modesty, taking pride in his self-restraint.
“After your… Claims, I thought that Elizabeth would find you distasteful,” Victor started after moments of walking in silence.
She nodded carefully. “Believe it to be true, she does loathe me. Yet, kinship may be discovered in the most unlikely circumstances, along with the loneliness that approaches young intelligent women.”
“She feels lonely, you say?” Victor asked; a part of him took cruel pleasure in knowing of Elizabeth’s suffering.
“Why yes, she lacks a friend of similar intelligence and interests. Your brother is a good husband and very supportive, she says; however, he does not understand her fascinations, though he earnestly tries.”
Victor squinted his eyes, listening to his intuition momentarily. “Have you offered her something?”
Briefly, their eyes met. She seemed pleased to hear of his suspicions.
“I did, indeed I did.”
“And? What is it?”
“I offered her to join a society of women that are pious, while also in sciences. I pray she will meet a like-minded lady and form a friendship which she truly longs for.”
“How very generous of you,” Victor chuckled, and he did not notice her eyes scanning him up and down. “Then I am glad to know that she does have a sense of respect for you.”
“Do believe: she does.”
Silence fell over them for a while, and only the quiet clicks of the pair’s heels disrupted the songs of the birds. Yet curiosity itched at Victor’s brain. He could not contain himself from nudging her on a particular question:
“Could you tell me as to why you would assist Henrich Harlander, when both of us are fully aware of his inevitable death?” Victor asked gently.
Their shoulders brushed against one other by accident, making Victor step closer so it might happen again.
“Everything I do is for a reason,” she replied simply.
“Is it so discrete? That not even I may know of it?” Victor’s brows furrowed.
“Well.” She smiled to herself, gazing at the horizon. The dark houses towered over their heads, lit windows appearing like eyes in great stone faces. “The body may be incomplete, destroyed by a disease, and yet, the mind operates until its last breath. The mind completes the body. However, the body is incomplete without the mind. A human is a human not only in physiology, but also in cognitive abilities. I need you to think keenly on your own ‘human’ that you are creating, will his mind complete the large body?”
“There is no question about its cognitive abilities. It will be as intelligent as a grown adult can be.”
“I doubt it, but only time will tell,” she answered dismissively, interfering quickly once again before Victor had the chance to argue. “Returning to Herr Harlander, I sometimes wonder: how exactly does disease affect the mind? What is the relationship between the body and the mind?”
“You will see, it is destructive. The disease may only destroy the mind.”
“Of course, and I am observing the exact changes to the psyche of my patient,” she agreed, but then she gazed at him, hiding her pupils in the shadows of her lashes. “Yet, I will correct you. I refer to the disease not only as the illness at hand, but also as the turmoil within the patient. Tell me, can a person destroy themselves by their internal suffering? Can the mind think that bodily suffering is a way towards healing?”
OKAY! SO WE’RE FINALLY GETTING STEAMHEART SEASON TWO!!!! SO HERE’S SOME THINGS I’D LOVE TO SEE BECAUSE I AM TWEAKING OUT!!!!!
• Steamheart ending up pregnant after the Anniversary episode (y’all know exactly what we’re talking about when Robert said ‘I was hoping we could spend an intimate night together’ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))
• Still on the topic his reaction because I feel like it would be SO CUTE to see him just either screaming (in a good way) or laughing about it
• Also random headcannon in the middle of this, for some reason Robert reminds me of the song ‘Babydoll’, I mean hey, the lyrics ‘I can’t move on Babydoll’ is LITERALLY Robert spending an entire year building a resurrection machine for Steamheart
• When the old man (I’ve forgotten his name but I think his name is Martin or smth) said on the phone ‘it’s time’ I’m PRAYING if anything comes to fighting, we get some badass Steamheart scenes since it’s canon that she was trained by the literal government, is 10x stronger than Robert and is a sharp shooter. I also think it’d be cool if Robert was at a dead end and Steamheart just ends up saving his ass (it’s the literal Girlboss and Malewife duo)
• Robert and Steamheart having an actual wedding instead of eloping on a roof, EXCEPT, Steamheart is wearing the suit and Robert is wearing a dress.
Either way, I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS, I LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT IM TWEAKING OUT SO HARD!!!!
Tim, hello again. I know you won't be reading this, but what do you think of this AI-generated image? Greetings from Mexico.
i don't even have anything funny to say, i just fucking hate this. hate it. viscerally. the idea that anybody would think this is something i would be happy about is utterly alien to me and anybody making ai generated photos of me is getting blocked on sight.
i saw this early this morning and i've just had this deep feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach because this shit is only going to get fucking WORSE. luckily this one doesn't really look like me, but the next one might or the one after that or the one after that
actually now that i think about it in the last 48 hours i've been sent this and somebody else sent a photo of my name scratched into their arm so i think i'm just going to log off for a while
I’m actually disgusted with whoever decided to create that prompt and POST IT. You can use ai for all I care but KEEP IT PRIVATE. ESPECIALLY with celebrities, lesser known and the well known. I am not supporting ai at all, I believe it is disgusting and shouldn’t be used for any form of art. The fact that someone decided to even think about posting this sickens me because there is always a chance ai images can spike up controversy: with how scarily real it’s getting, one misuse can ruin a person’s life.
Tim, be safe on here and take as many breaks as you want, it’s YOUR mental health that matters the most in this. Love from me and fellow fans ❤️
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