#victor van dort x y/n

[kaicubus]

Being with Victor Van Dort

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warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, no cursing, sweet victor, some implied sexual headcanons but it's not a sexual movie i just LOVE victor so bad ugh i need him, kaicubus british accent.

pairing ✩° : victor van dort x mostly gn!reader

authors note ✩° : nothing is done about him so as usual, i'm stepping up to the plate. tall skinny emo boy IM COMING FOR YOU. why do i want to do more? thinks. i'm trying to get my halloween fics out guys i promise...

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To say Victor would do anything for you in and outside of his power is such an understatement. He has such little power in what he does compared to other people, especially suitable bachelors, but he tries so hard with what he has.

You two meet because your parents need you two to be wed, so of course, he's a stranger. A very kind, and understanding stranger who at times feels like he's so brittle around you he'll break at any second.

He bumps into you? Victor scurries away. You look at him? Victor slams himself into the wall in the process. He kind of loses composure around you.

When he warms up to you eventually, Victor actually talks about his interests a lot. You find out he's an excellent musician, talented in piano and violin, an exceptional artist, and he's an avid reader who enjoys dark poetry.

He's still very insecure about the idea of you loving him or at least liking him, but he'll never bother you with questions because he doesn't want to seem needy (but he is so needy). If his insecurities do get the best of him, Victor will ask gently, "Do you actually like me? If not, I get it. I'm not rich nor strong enough to support and provide for us, I just want to be sure." Of course, you answer him honestly and he's over the moon when you tell him you actually do love him.

Victor notices things about you that no one else would notice, like the amount of moles you have on your left arm, if you prefer crowded areas or not, and if you cut your hair just a few inches to the point where it's not even that noticeable.

Speaking of, if you're ever at a ball or a place where there's a lot of people and you're not comfortable with crowds, Victor will take you away to a secluded area and calm you down from there.

He is overly apologetic. Sometimes it gets slightly annoying with how much he does it, but you never react negatively and always reassure him. Victor will apologize even if you're the one who caused something, blaming it all on himself so you don't feel bad at all.

Victor's love language is surely words of affirmation as he loves to give you endearing complements but also he feels good receiving them. He doesn't expect anything, because that's the least of your worries he thinks, but even so much as a simple flick of his hair and saying how nice it looks that day drives him absolutely mad.

However, when he compliments you, he's never short of charming. Victor catches you off guard sometimes when he reminds you how 'ravishing you look' or 'how you put the stars to shame with your glittering smile.' Usually he draws parallels with you and the stars, moon, sun, or flowers. He always makes you feel seen.

Naturally, as your husband, Victor is protective over you. He's never one to start a fight over a worthless scum trying to flirt with you, but he's not shy to let his presence be known and to grab you by the waist into his thin frame.

Calls you my love, darling, my beloved, and gorgeous.

Loves receiving. Victor will never ask anything of you, sure, but he won't deny it when it happens. He loves being kissed first, he loves being pulled down to kiss you, he loves being marked in hickeys especially on his collar bone, all of that.

One very specific thing is that Victor really enjoys dressing you and putting your makeup on. There's just something about the silent intimacy of sliding on your dress, gliding the thin fabric of tights on, tightening your corset, and delicately lining your lips with a dark, rose red lipstick that he loves so much. Even if he can't do the whole outfit, you'll still allow him to do your makeup or brush your hair.

Victor also likes things a very specific way. Not that he's controlling, he's far from it, but little things like overlined or underlined lipstick makes him fidgety. He'll swipe his thumb over your cupid's bow if that's the case and pretend like nothing happened.

He writes long, lengthy love letters. Sometimes explicit ones if he isn't there with you. He's uh, good at writing!

Victor shivers a lot. Take that as you will.

Loves painting portraits of you.

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[bowieandqueen11]

Lift Your Sorrows / Victor Van Dort Imagine

Request: Hey love! So I loooove the corpse bride and I was wondering if you could do a Victor x reader where it's Halloween night and they tell scary stories and the reader gets scared so he comforts her? Thanks love! And keep up the amazing work!! 

Yess my darling @denisethefangirl​ Corpse Bride is genuinely one of my favourite films of all time!

Comments and requests are really appreciated! 

Also warning, all these stories are based on true Victorian ghost stories!

Halloween seemed to come naturally to this town.

Upon every gnarled, bare branch that led down the town square and to the Everglot house seemed to sit a murder of crows, their cries warbling throughout the empty market. Children peered out from behind draped windows, gazing out through the frost and onto the street with a sigh, others being ushered into bed - those without children sitting down and getting ready for a night of supernatural games and festivities behind locked doors. As you walked by Victor’s side, away from the Church, trying your hardest to ignore the empty layer of inky cloud above you, you followed your sister back into the dim warmth of your home.

Somehow, as the three of you were walking home on this frightening night, Victoria had managed to convince the two of you in differing away from the usual fortune telling games to instead try telling stories of the supernatural - of ghosts. A chill sank into your bones as you heaved the front door closed behind you, running as fast as you could up the staircase to catch up with the lanky man in front of you, saying goodbye to the night of warm blankets and cheery laughter that you had so been looking forward to with him.

Sensing you had fallen a little behind, Victor stops for a moment, allowing your sister time to blow some cobwebs off the top of a candle holder left abandoned on a desk by the landing. She lights the stub of the candle, barely two inches long, and places the matches back on the table to turn to the two of you, being able to see only the orange glow light up the darkness of her eyes.

‘G-give me your hand, Y/n, Wouldn’t want you falling behind, tonight of all nights, of course. It’s dangerous to be alone in the dark.’

Victor smiles at you, petting the back of your hand as you intertwine it with his fingers, hesitantly leaning into his side and letting him lead you into the bedroom Victoria had just opened. Following the flickering light source, you felt the need to chide your sister as she placed the candelabra down on one of the bed side tables.

‘Victor, would you be a dear and start a fire for us?’

‘Of course, it would be my pleasure.’ He hovers slightly, almost unwilling to let go of your touch, until he finds Victoria raising an eye at his hesitancy and soon scurries away to kneel down on the dirty floorboards.

‘Do we really have to do this in one of the guest bedrooms, Victoria’, you complain, ‘or rather, do we really have to do this at all?’

Your sister only ignores you, swiping her pointer finger across the dusty piano lid that lies abandoned in the corner of the room. Blowing it off her finger, the grime clouds into the room almost in a ghostly haze, the specks nearly translucent as they fell through the air.

‘We want to set the atmosphere, do we not?’, she finally starts, settling herself down gently by one of the marble edges of the fireplace. ‘Besides, it’s not like our parents will mind, in fact I have reason to believe they’re not even here.’

Reaching her slender fingers up behind her, she giggles into her free hand as her finger dances over the ivory keys. She holds her fingers up to you once she stops, ‘see, we’re all alone. When was the last time mother and father would allow music in this house?’

‘Ah, all done! This fire should suffice for the rest of the evening.’

Victor leans back on his knees, dusting off some soot from the cuff of his suit jacket, before he takes his place beside the ample fire, its warmth and light falling far out into the darkened corners of the room, flashing red reflections and curious silhouettes onto the wallpaper. Jumping slightly at being the only one standing still near the walls, you sit down next to Victor, not noticing the way his throat moves with an anxious gulp, or the way his hands start fiddling with his collar, having seen the way your dress folded so pleasurably against his suit, your knee pressing against the side of his thigh. Thinking it rude to stare so intensely at a fine woman, he tried to stop himself from blushing by peering forward and staring into the fire.

‘I’ll start then’, Victoria chimes in, biting her bottom lip as she racked her brain for a true fright. ‘Have you heard the tale of the ghastly headless woman.’

You squeak, making Victor startle slightly and nearly knock over the poker rack as you leap and grab onto his arm.

‘The ghost was first seen by a farmer in Buckingham, I believe, during a frosty, pitch black winter night, all alone on an empty cobblestone street. There he was, near the end of his journey home from his fields when his lantern started to swing by his head, the orange glow settling enough only to show flashes of some strange, dark object lying by his turn at the crossroads.’

Your grip on Victor’s arm tightens so much, he’s afraid you’ll leave wilts on his skin if you squeeze any harder, but he’s enjoying the ever limited physical touch with you so much that he just swallows back the pain and smiles down at you.

You always found his eyes were like the colour of Swallowtail butterflies - so rare and soft, they had this look of wings flying through the sky, so quick, yet relaxed, at ease. Realising the two of you had been gazing at each other so affectionately for too long, Victoria coughed slightly, making Victor jump. He instead, as he turns back to listen to the story, shyly leans over and grabs your hand, letting it rest in the empty space between the two of you. 

‘He called out to the shape, to the strange motionless figure in front of him. There was no reply, only the braying of his horse as it flung itself away from the scene, loosening his grip on the reins, looking back at the figure in time only to see the woman slowly drift away from them, seemingly floating through the thick branches of a bordering hedge. It was only as she began to disappear, that he realised the darkness was not only the colour of her clothes, but in fact the night sky behind the space where her head should be.’

‘That’s horrible!’, you cry out, your sister only gazing into the fire in reply, and reaching up to place a stray curl of hair back into her bun.

‘Strange things do happen in this world’, Victor adds as he looks over at you, finding himself unable to break his gaze as your shaken eyes peer back at him. He feels his heart thunder against his chest in the familiar way it does every time you look at him, the only thing making him blink being the sudden strike of lightning that streaks the foggy sky outside the window. Sheets of rain began to hit upon the pavement outside, somehow chilling the air in a fraction of a second, and making you nestle closer into Victor’s side for warmth.The gloom of the autumn evening truly began to creep into your heart like the damp into bare timber, seeping into your morose pores. 

‘Victor, can we stop now?’

He didn’t have a chance to reply, before the shadowed face of your sister began its second tale of the night.

‘Another story I have been told is of a ghost, an apparition which rises from its tomb to warn men of danger. One man in Garstang, a small village far from here, was delivering letters on a deserted path leading away from the village, only to be stopped by a ghost of abnormal stature, pale as the sky above him, towering above the poor man.’

You felt your stomach lurch at her words, too afraid to walk over to the window and block out the lightening in fear of what ghastly reflection may be waiting behind you. 

Before she could continue, you finally mottled up the courage to call out a desperate, ‘Victoria, please stop!’, and to your surprise, your sister actually did. Shocked, she gave yourself a moment to collect herself by telling the two of you she would go down to the kitchen and find everyone a round of something warm to drink.

As soon as she had closed the door, Victor let go of your hand, choosing instead to settle himself fully beside you. His eyes twinkled as they settled on your face, his hand coming up to rest gingerly against your back. For a moment, you don’t move, but his breathing hitches when he hears slow, stifled sobs from your direction. With his free hand, he tries as gently as he can to try and tilt your chin up away from his shoulder so he can properly look at you in the fire light again. It breaks his heart to see your eyes so bloodshot, your cheeks so rosy and red from the crying. It only fills him with an uneasy determination as he rests his chin against the side of your head, his hair falling over your eyes and he chuckles nervously. He nearly gasps out loud as you tug on his blue tie, nearly choking the poor man until he was left gasping for breath as you pull him tighter against you. His lanky frame completely envelopes you as he composes himself, and places his other arm tightly around your shoulder.

‘It's alright, Y/n. I'll never let anything hurt you. I shall be with you, I believe, always.’

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