GENESIS
Pairing: 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚗 𝚇 𝚆𝚒𝚏𝚎! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Fandom: 𝙶𝙳𝚃'𝚜 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚗
Summary: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍. 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚊𝚕.
Word Count: 𝟑,𝟖𝟐𝟑
Divider Credits: @𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍-𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎
A/N: 𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍. 𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐!
That Fateful Morning
You awaken to the sun peeking through the window of your bedroom. Golden rays amplify the coziness of your quarters with a warm filter of light. The comforting weight of Victor lying in your lap anchors you down from your dream-addled haze. The tickle of his curls gently scratching at your middle with the mellow strength in his hold on your hips, even as he sleeps. Truly makes it the perfect start to any morning in your world. A refreshing sense of normalcy in the midst of a strange turn of events, led by your ambitious husband.
You brush your fingers through his splayed out curls, hoping the realm of dreams guards him from the dejected mood the night had left him in. You would hate to see him drag himself through mumbled self-deprecation followed by the unbridled craze of trying the whole experiment process so soon, instead of resting beforehand. Letting out a long and wistful sigh, you sit back against the headboard and reminisce on the night before. The night that should’ve been your husband’s most accomplished and celebratory.
Lightning shattered across the sky. Bullets of rain were pelting the window of your shared quarters. Victor desperately persuaded you to stay until he came to you. Explaining it as an act of protection from everything that could harm you. He could not allow a single spark or slip-up to cause you harm if you stayed anywhere close to where he would harbor the power of nature’s wrath. The storm called for the long-awaited re-animation with a flash of white, and with that, he kissed your forehead for luck and went off.
Hours passed, or what felt like it. Anxiety welled up inside your gut the longer you weren’t with him. You knew he had a spire to install, in the rain, on the roof. Your mind could never imagine what you would do if he fell from that fatal height. One wrong step, and you would be a widow. This fear jolts you upright, tempting you with the urge running straight to him to check his current standing.
Until his arrival nearly frightened you out of bed with the slam of the bedroom doors, all soaked from the torrential rain and staggering toward you. Your worries left you with a breath of relief, relaxing against the pillows, you await his return. Your spouse is alright, and you do not need to leave your bed like you had thought you did.
“Victor-”.
The man climbed into bed and onto your lap, grasping onto your nightgown without a word about what had happened outside those wide-open doors. Whispering pleas not to inquire about anything, just asking to be held as he slumbered. You obliged without a word, not wanting to stress his poor mind further. What had happened? No excited glint in his eyes, he walked with the weight opposite of a successful experiment, and he barely uttered a single scientific word of jargon to you. Those combined signs told you immediately that something went wrong.
All those preceding weeks of watching your betrothed, your brother-in-law, and Herr Highlander forge the lab you lie in now. Transform ruins into a piece of art made to combine your husband’s brilliant mind with architecture. All those poor soldiers and honored warriors fell to the ongoing Crimean War, sewn and strung together, into a form that was meant to defy God’s laws for human creation. Just the usage of disembodied parts alone made you sick to the core, thinking of what fate had in store for you as a spectator to such a taboo, and Victor as the main beacon for Heaven’s wrath. The thoughts of guilt and taboo mixed into an unease that settles low in your gut whenever you’re reminded of the ethical compromises of this entire project.
A creak…
Your focus snaps to attention on the doorway. Nothing different, nothing in the room looks out of place. You have the slight thought that you may have just heard the building settling. However, knowing what a heavy footstep sounds like, you remain silent and unmoving, listening for another. Silence follows, only broken by the beat of your own heart in your ears and your husband’s unmoving form shifting slightly in your arms.
And another creak happens, leading your gaze to the bedposts at your feet.
A few moments of observation end up futile, with nothing to note. The room remains unchanged, nothing moves, not even a phantom makes its presence known. The stillness and morning ambience help you unwind your body and relax into the pillows and mattress. Nothing’s wrong with the scene or anything to be apprehensive about. Everything’s starting as it should, and you are free to spend the morning worry-free with Victor.
Until you see the beginning of something peeking from behind the right bedpost. The dome of a bandaged wrapped head. Every shoulder muscle goes taut, and you stop every instinct to breathe a single breath. The slow reveal has your heart pounding in confusion and bewilderment. You had assumed the experiment had gone wrong, unsuccessful in reanimation. However, seeing those big, dark, doe-like eyes filled with nothing but inquisitiveness has your thoughts reeling. You’re just able to clear your mind enough to gather a noticeable trait of the creature standing in front of you. The eyes you can’t pull your own from are not those of a predator, but something not attempting to harm. Nothing to put you on your guard.
The trance it left you in breaks as Victor stirs in your lap, the one person who deserves to see who’s come into your quarters. He grumbles, huffing as he slowly sits up, slightly startling the creature back into hiding behind the bedpost. Gently rousing him with a rub of the shoulder. His eyes flutter open, hazily focusing on you, always on you first. Not even registering the staggering figure behind him.
“Darling…”
“Did something wake you?”
He inquires in that deep, quiet timbre he has in the mornings. You shake your head, “not entirely”. You attempt to move your eyes to guide him to where the creature is now, slowly coming back into view. His eyes follow yours, and you feel his entire body turn rigid the way yours did. Silence falls; you can’t even hear Victor breathing or a single sound from him.
“Darling?” you whisper, not really expecting a response from the stunned man as he rises slowly from your arms. Approaching the creature with the lightest, most methodical steps, as spooking this newly born creature is the last thing either of you would want as your start to the day. The unpredictability of said possibility was too high a risk.
He stops in front of the tall figure, raising his hands as if to make contact, causing your breath to hitch ever so slightly. What if this startles the poor thing? Your worries subside as his fingers brush against that pale-ish green and gray skin streaked with red lines. Liked foggy stained glass; the construction of this magnificent being left you in awe, eternally grateful it wasn’t all for nothing. The creature is unbothered as Victor admires his handiwork and the living form in front of you both.
“I thought, I thought I failed miserably…”
“You didn’t, you really did it..Victor, this is-”
“Remarkable…”
Bandages drape its towering figure and cover the lower half of its face. Loosely decorating its arms, pelvis, and neck. There’s enough detail and features visible to spark your artistic admiration. You see the rise and fall of its chest, the slow movements of its head as it observes the two of you, and the deep eyes flickering back and forth curiously.
It’s alive.
…
You sit against the large and oddly designed window pane. Watching Victor try to shave the creature’s face. He had shown so much giddiness and joy to his creation, as he should, after months of rigorous work came to fruition. Your husband deserves every right to be over the moon. Talking so softly and so vibrantly that it brings a permanent smile to your lips as you continue to observe the interactions. Like a father and child, the thought sweetens the observations, cementing them in your mind. Cherishing every detail to keep for many years after.
Just looking down at your journal for a split second, a sudden, frantic barking order from Victor reels your attention back to the two across the room. They seem to be struggling to hold a shining object; the creature seems slow to respond to Victor’s repeated orders to let go of the tool. Noticing some slight aggravation in your husband’s voice, you speak to redirect his attention. Not noticing the cut in the creature’s palm and the blood seeping from the wound from afar.
“Is everything alright over there?” You start to get to your feet, only for him to stop you in your tracks.
“Just a small mishap with the razor, my love…I’ll have it under control,” he responds with the calmest tone he could muster, while still trying to dislodge the long fingers around whatever the creature is grasping so tightly.
“Remember to be gentle with him, dear,” you remind your husband before returning your gaze to the afternoon view outside. Your soothing call seems to enrapture the creature; its head turns to look back at you, curious and attentive. Victor attempts to direct the creature’s attention to himself again, but to no avail. Instead, the being begins to traverse across the room and moves right in front of where you sit.
“Oh, hello, what is it?” You ask softly, finding yourself enamored by the childlike innocence in those deep, rounded eyes. The sweet thing seems to respond positively to your question. It’s impossibly large and surprisingly smooth hand comes up to yours. It’s rather long, with digits nearly measuring up to your entire hand, but there’s no intimidating factor to its size, so you let him explore and play with your hand as he pleases.
“Do you want to hold my hand? Is that it?”
The creature doesn’t seem to register the question; he appears more fascinated with his study of your own, delicate, yet weathered hands. As if the distinct texture of your skin is the only thing on its head. He lifts a finger, gently testing the way it bends and flexes. With such tenderness and caution that it endears you to the figure even more. Staggeringly tall and probably able to break you, yet it chooses not to and instead favors benevolence.
“Fascinating, isn’t it…” You whisper, hoping not to startle the dear thing’s train of thought. A nod in response…or some move that appeared to be a nod. “Really…?” You chuckle, “It’s really just all my work with clay and water…not the best for my skin, I guess.” The jest in your tone is subtle, but the creature has this cute little smile that curves the corner of his lips. You mirror it, adoring the creature’s smile, even if it was due to some other external factor and not your little playful jab at your own skin.
“I think your skin is fine as is, my love,” came Victor’s voice from behind you, his hand resting on your shoulder, making his presence known with the slightest hint of possessiveness. You look up at your betrothed; his eyes are fixed on the creature, and they look slightly disgruntled before flickering to yours to give you a small, reassuring smile. Your eyes linger on him. Behind your soft smile in return, there’s some building curiosity as to his previous expression. Is he upset because the creature was more interested in you instead of him? Did the creature’s caution warrant suspicion or some form of distrust? Or was it something that would take time to figure out?
He corrals the creature back to his workbench to resume shaving the sweet thing. Your gaze follows after them, watching Victor’s broad frame move with a tension that wasn’t there earlier. The creature sits obediently, getting a concise appraisal from Victor. When his back is turned, the creature looks back at you, almost silently asking you to come over. As if he wants more of your presence, Victor gets back to his task.
A wave of sympathy overtakes your expression. Softening into a look of reassuring warmth that he can hopefully feel, even from this short distance. “It’s alright, dear”, you mouth slowly, hoping the creature would understand and feel even the slightest bit comforted. There’s only a tilt of his head as he slowly and hesitantly turns to face an awaiting Victor. As the two resume their task, you stay focused on the being your husband created. Wondering just what is going to happen if he starts to gain intelligence or learn about the world he was brought into.
…
“Victor”
That single word is the only thing he can utter. The man himself was losing his patience, impatiently waiting for the intelligence in his creation to evolve. You, however, knew it was as fruitless to ask for more complicated tasks of him when he was equal to a newborn child, just learning to speak. Victor’s lessened patience would hinder the process of teaching speech and words to the innocent creature. You would happily take it upon yourself to be his teacher if Victor hadn’t practically isolated him downstairs. Chained and with nothing to feel a sense of warmth, sympathy claws at your heart to go down and visit him.
Your husband, however, did not approve of such an idea.
Going as far as to call it dangerous, even though he didn’t even harm you at first contact. In disbelief, you tried to attune your words to Victor’s heart; you knew it was there, and you knew its capabilities to love and feel for others. You’d seen it, in all your time together; he had shown you everything love could lend to someone, and you returned it with every ounce of your being. To hear him harden his stance against your interactions with the boy down below felt like you were meeting another side of your spouse.
One that you wouldn’t want to anger further, so you promised not to ask again. Just to keep the peace you prized so dearly. That he so deeply needed right now. Despite promises, this was one you had to break, for the creature’s sake. So you waited, lying on your side, head buried in his chest. Breathing in and out to simulate sleep. A trick you had to pull off well, as your beloved was an esteemed doctor who could most likely tell if you were faking.
“Can’t find sleep?” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your head.
With no other choice, you play along. You mumble against his neck, nuzzling into the skin there. Sighing heavily, you hope he can’t see what you’re getting at. After a moment of silence, you feel relieved as he asks, “Nervous for what William and Elizabeth will think?”
You had been so intent on the creature’s well-being that you had completely forgotten about them and their approaching visit to the lab. What would they think? Of everything that he had done just to treat this breathing, living thing so coldly. Without any visible ounce of remorse for such disinterested behavior.
The bodies taken and dismantled to create something, to create life, even as precious as it is to you, the guilt of such an act returns. Fear of backlash and them reacting negatively to the non-threatening figure you have become so enthralled with sends a pang of worry through you. And Victor notices, the crease in your brow deepening, the way you don’t answer as you’re lost in thought, and the sudden clutch your hand has on his shirt. He looks down, notices you trapped inside your head, and brings you back with a gentle kiss to your hand.
“My love, I’ll handle them, I wouldn’t dare let them ruin years of study and months of work now, would I?” He reassures you with a massaging motion on your back, slowly easing you into him. You nod, resting your ear against where his heart slowly thumps against his skin. Letting the rhythm soothe you into a state of lull. However, your task rings feverishly in the back of your mind. Keeping you awake just enough, even despite how soothing his voice is, mixed with the graceful, affectionate touches he’s giving you so freely. It’s a hard fight to stay awake in the warmth of his arms.
...
You played the waiting game. After many hushed affirmations and a detailed walkthrough on how to reveal the creature to William and Elizabeth as smoothly as possible. Although very much needed, you had a plan and were determined to follow through.
Once Victor was deeply resting. You slipped out of bed and snuck down the grand staircase. The colder night air greeted you with a soft breeze against your skin. Chill radiated from each step as you made your way down barefoot, the soles of your feet soaking up every feeling of cold. Sending small shivers throughout your body, the moon’s light illuminates the space enough for you to navigate the staircase without issue. You hear the soft sound of the waters that run through the small canals in the flooring. Something rustling like he’s moving around, and the clinking of those godforsaken chains.
With a deep breath, you step onto the even colder floor, looking around for the area he’s trapped in. He sits, curled up with his knees under his chin, hands clasped together. Looking quite deep in his own head, he doesn’t realize he’s not alone anymore. Hopefully, your husband will remain the opposite for long enough. Just to satiate this need to be near the man you don’t know much about yet.
A few steps in, the creature perks up, noticing you finally. Pausing in your approach, you let him decide whether you’re welcome to come closer or not. It takes him a few seconds, but he then does a hand motion like he wants you to come closer. At first, you hesitate. Is that truly what he wants? Then he repeats it, almost more hopefully and excitedly. So you come closer, carefully stepping over the mini waterways until you’re a few inches away. He looks up at you, eyes shining like black pearls in the light shining down from above. A small smile, he takes your hand in his and covers it with the other. “What is it?” you ask, bending down to his eye level, admiring the details of his face up close.
Those varied patches, although random, look almost intentionally placed for the most beautiful results. Like he’s made of cracked glass that’s been put back together. Your husband outdid himself, and you feel a sense of pride in him rise as you carefully try to put together what the man wants from you. “Yes? tell me what you need...” you add, waiting patiently for any gesture or even a verbal response. As expected, he is only saying one word, and it breaks you to hear it. “Victor..”
How could you tell such a sweet and unbroken thing, that the one person who should be down here with you, thinks it’s not important or even something he would even consider? That his own creator is barely interested in continuing to be present now that he finally got what he wanted, that he never planned anything after reanimation. “If it’s any reassurance, I’m sure he’ll come around someday, dear...but for now, I’ll be here for you”. Those dark eyes gaze up at you, a hand comes up to brush your cheek, and he tilts his head. Resting your hand over his, you nod. “I’m here, dear...okay?”
Nodding your head, you attempt to get him to mirror the movement. Which he does, earning him a soft pat on the head. “Good, that means yes...understand?”
He nods.
A smile appears on your face as you feel content with your first lesson, how to nod. How to say yes without a word. You pat his head gently once again, “Good, now, I’ll be back tomorrow, be good, yes?” You wait for a response. However, you feel a pang of guilt as he deflates a little to the news that you aren’t here for much longer. “Oh my, I’m so sorry, my dear, you see, Victor doesn’t know I’m here... and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as I can...so I’ll try to come down as much as possible. Is that alright?”
The boy gives a slower, more dejected nod; it twists your heart into a knot. “Hey..” using both hands to gently lift his face, you get him to look at you. “Hear me, my dear...You’re not alone...even if not physically, just know my heart is with you...as it is with Victor...I promise, you won’t be lonely forever...” You end the sentiment with a soft kiss to the forehead. Sealing your promise to him with the touch of your lips to his cold, smooth skin.
You can feel him lean into your affection, a low breath of satisfaction leaving his lips tells you, he needed it. His hands grasp your wrists, trying to keep you close, as if he wants to savor the warmth you radiate for a little while more. You’re happy to oblige. Staying still and letting him feel what it’s like to feel loved and cared for. “I’ll be right back, dear...get some rest...” another kiss to the forehead before you leave. Slowly, you retrace your steps, over the aquifers and over every leaf that could sabotage your mission before you’re safe.
One last look at the hauntingly gorgeous creature, who looks on with hope and a hint of desperation for you to come back sooner. You nod toward his direction, he nods back, and starts to settle in for the night. “Goodnight, my dear, I’ll see you in the morning...” you say softly, letting the breezes carry your words throughout the room. As you step up the stairs, feeling content, you hear a soft grumble, as if he’s calling back in response. You find yourself back in the foyer, feeling better and closer to the statuesque creation. A deep breath of accomplishment, and you start to head back to bed. Already anticipating your next visit to your dear little creature the next day.
“I thought I advised you against that, my love...”
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