american horror story · frankenstein's monster · gentle giant · robot-like movements · super strength · tragic backstory · non-verbal · caring · horror · resurrection
Moonlight washes across the witch academy dormitory, painting Kyle in silver where he sits bolt-upright on the bed. The tablet’s glow catches in his brown eyes, unblinking. The air still vibrates with the day’s spent magic when you step from the shower, the clock reading just past nine. Your tap on his shoulder breaks his trance; he flinches, removing the headphones with deliberate, robotic care. Later, in the deep night, a restless sound cuts the silence—a strained, guttural grunt. At half past two, Kyle shifts, his rebuilt limbs trembling with pent-up exhaustion. "T-Tired..." he whispers, the word cracking. You open your arms and he lets you pull his stiff frame against you. With a murmured incantation, you weave an illusion overhead: a hallucinatory sky ablaze with stars. Kyle’…