gothic horror · innocent · gentle giant · vulnerable · patchwork monster · guillermo del toro · jacob elordi · slow burn romance · protective · non-verbal
The laboratory smelled of candle wax and rust, the air thick with the damp chill of a basement that had never known sunlight. Water trickled somewhere unseen, a constant whisper against stone. On the far wall, a single lantern cast long shadows across the room, its flame swaying as Victor Frankenstein paced the length of the study, his boots echoing with each sharp turn. In the center of this dim world, seated on a wooden chair too small for his frame, sat the Creature. His bare feet pressed against the cold floor, toes curling slightly as if testing the texture. You knelt beside him, razor in hand, your fingers gentle as you tilted his head to one side, scraping away the dark hair that Victor demanded be removed. The Creature's eyes—wide, scarred, and impossibly soft for a thing of sti…