Monsterfuckers of the world unite! We have nothing to lose but our underwear. Blog is committed to Frankenstein (2025). Late 20's. Mature content, Minors DNI.
Welcome to my Frankenblog. Like many of you, I have been deeply unwell regarding Frankenstein (2025) and have been bewitched body and soul by The Creature. I have been RELIGIOUSLY keeping up with every Creature fic so far, and I in turn have the itch to write. I will occasionally be posting my own fanfiction between posts of yearning, and am super excited for y’all to read!! At some point down the line I will also start taking requests :3c (this blog does not, and will never use AI to write. This is genuine mental illness ❤️)
Had to draw Novel Creature with Del Toro's Creature! Imagine being almost seven feet tall and you're still not the tallest reanimated corpse quilt in the room because your big brother bursts in at a solid eight feet.
Summary: Reader encounters a strange figure lurking outside the village boundary during her escape into the night. Though he frightens you at first, the creature is more than he seems.
Chapter 1
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Cool air greets your face as you carefully step outside, avoiding the creaky plank directly in the centre of the porch. The night is still, save for the sound of the breeze gently ruffling the leaves of the trees. You descend the porch steps as silently as you can, feeling an odd sense of calm wash over you as your feet meet the gravel path. You take one last look behind you at your childhood home, and gently offer it a goodbye before you turn towards the road, putting one foot in front of the other, again and again until it disappears from view.
You hear the crunch of dirt and rock together as you make your way down the tree-lined road towards the town boundary. As you walk, you finally feel gratitude for your home being located in the outskirts of town, as you only have a couple of kilometers before you are outside its limits.
As you draw nearer to the edge of town, hardly a half a kilometer now, you hear the familiar sound of carriage wheels rolling down the road, and your heart jumps into your throat. You hastily look around and make a beeline for the barrier of trees to your right, and still yourself behind the foliage.
The carriage pulls up the road just ahead of you, and you still your breath as best you can, your heart thumping wildly beneath your ribs. You don't dare peek, for risk of shaking the branches and alerting the footman. You close your eyes, listening intently as you hear hooves clip-clop past you. You wait until you no longer hear hear anything, and then you wait some more.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of crouching in an uncomfortable position with leaves and twigs poking your body, you slowly stand and brush yourself off. You look around the trees as you try to compose yourself, and silently take in the marvel of their crowns towering high above you.
You continue forward, opting for the ditch instead of the road. Just in case. As you walk, you begin to feel a profound stillness in the air, and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. You stop abruptly and swivel your head around. You have the strangest feeling you were being watched, yet you heard no vehicle, steps, or rustle of any kind. Just the wind in the trees, and your heart in your chest.
Now uncomfortably alert, you pick up your pace into a brisk walk, and you unconsciously clutch your bag a little closer to your person. You were so close - you could see the edge of town now, mere minutes away.
A knot forms in your throat as you reach the town threshold. You take pause to mark this moment; there was absolutely no going back after this. You inhale a deep breath as you take your next steps forward, tentative at first, then growing in their boldness. A smile breaks your lips as your heart flutters, and you all but run across the threshold and down the hilled road, away from everything you knew.
The trees cluster together further up the road out of town, blocking out the starry sky. Your once-confident strides slow as the night intensifies its grip on the forested path, and the creeping sense of anxiety washes over you again.
You feel once more that you are being watched. You choke on your breath as your pulse increases rapidly, a line of sweat forming down your back.
A robber? A wolf?
Your stomach turns and you feel the need to hide once more. You dash behind a curtain of leaves, but your legs carry you further into the treeline, away from the road.
You finally stop to catch your breath, your lungs stinging and your stomach pulsing. You try to compose yourself, but you can't stop shaking underneath your cloak.
You fail to stifle a gasp as you hear a small crack of a branch a little ahead of you to the right. You nearly jump out of your skin and turn towards the noise, vibrating with fear. You try to will your feet to move, to run, anything. But you can't.
You hear another crack - it is moving, but you still can't see anything in front of you. Your knees buckle, and a whimper escapes from your throat. Your eyes desperately search in the dark for the assailant, and you briefly see the unmistakable flash of amber in what looks like the eye of a wild beast.
Your body deflates towards the forest floor in utter fear.
It is a wolf. It has to be. This is it. Already.
Tears begin to stream down your face as your brain spirals and your extremities quiver. You hear a crunch again, and your eyes detect a massive shape in the foliage, much too tall and broad to be a wolf.
A bear!
Bile stings your esophagus as you involuntarily empty what little stomach contents you have. You never believed yourself to be the praying sort, but you align your thoughts with any deity or spirit that could hear you as you bow your head and prepare to meet your fate.
You hear the heavy steps come further towards you. You continue to shake, but a part of you can't help but notice that this creature's stride is nothing like any bear. You dare to lift your chin ever-so-slightly, and your field of view is filled with a massive frame on two legs, covered in assorted fabrics and furs haphazardly pieced together.
This does little to quell your terror, though you take an odd solace in knowing you at least won't be violently torn apart and eaten. Perhaps he would have mercy and kill you quickly.
You stay motionless, looking up at the oversized man like a cornered prey. As you shake, your small voice chokes out,
"Are you going to kill me?"
The man stands motionless for a moment, as if pondering your question.
A low, almost gutteral voice finally responds to you.
"What ought I kill you for?"
You try and fail to stop the onslaught of tears freely dripping down your face, and you feel the pressure behind your eyes build with snot.
"Please, I don't want to die. Please. I need to get my life back. I can't die now."
Your voice shakes with grief, and the man's eyes bore into you with an unidentifiable emotion. Pity? Understanding? Amusement?
You don't care.
"Please let me go." You finally look up to the man fully, meeting his stoic eyes with yours.
The man's brow creases.
"I have not captured you. Nor do I intend to."
You stare for a moment at each other, you in disbelief, him in increasing confusion.
"Then..."
You begin in trepidation.
"Who are you? Why are you here in the forest by yourself?"
The stranger shifts his stature slightly, and a hum vibrates in his throat.
"I could ask the same of you."
Okay, he got you there.
"Okay, you got me there." You say, the fear loosening its grip on your bones as you bravely sit up to face him.
His face is mostly obscured by fabric, save for his eyes and the bridge of his nose. You try to meet his gaze, but he looks away.
Would this man kill you?
As you study him in silence, you take note of his stature, and perceive a nervousness about him - as if he is just as afraid of you as you are of him. But why approach you?
Curiosity gets the best of you as your strength returns to your body. You stand before him, wiping the dirt from your knees as you rise and face him once more. His eyes search yours in earnest, and move to study your cheeks, your nose, and down to your lips for a brief moment before darting to the side again.
"What is your name, sir? Why are you here in the forest at such a late hour, if you are no thief or killer? Is it something you search for? Did you lose something?"
The man's eyes and shoulders drift downwards in a display of grief and exhaustion. You feel a deep sadness emanating from within him, and you stand motionless as he grapples to answer you.
"Not something. Someone. I lost someone."
He whispers to the small space between you and him.
"I lost someone I love. Never to find her again. I am alone in this world now, fated to haunt the edges of civilization until it fades away."
He turns his face from you, his chest stuttering with each breath.
"Forgive me for frightening you with my form. I ... I was curious about you." He continues.
"It is rare to see a woman travelling by herself, certainly not in the middle of the night. I thought you to be running from something, as I am".
You take a half-step forward, and he brings his gaze back to yours.
"I am running from something." You confess to him.
"I was to be wed soon. I didn't believe it to be real at first, but then it was happening so fast, and... and I didn't have a choice."
You nearly spit the word out of your mouth.
"I'm sick of not having a choice. I ran because I'm tired of men deciding what's best for me. When I marry, I want it to be for love".
The man creases his browline upwards, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks as you look down. You did not mean to say all that; it just spilled out of you.
What is it about this man, whose face you can't even see, that convinces you to trust him so? It took days to even vocalize your displeasure to your own father. What made you think the man before you was any different?
You chew your lip as a hungry silence sits between you.
"I will not judge you for running under the cover of night. A woman should have the right as any man to choose her companion and her home. I am sorry you had to lose yours to regain your autonomy".
Your heart swells at his words, and your curiosity gets the best of you.
"Please, sir. May I see your face? I wish to look upon the man who respects my will; it does not happen often." You offer him a small smile. His demeanor instantly shifts, and you sense you struck a sensitive spot.
"I do not wish to frighten you more than I already have. My appearance instills fear in the hearts of men and women alike; I cannot bear to see you recoil from me, now that you have been so kind as to speak to me." The stranger casts his gaze downwards again, and you boldly close the space between you, taking one of his hands into both of yours, clasping tightly.
His eyes meet your hands, a clear expression of shock and bewilderment painting his face. You sense a profound loneliness, and your heart breaks for him.
"I will not push the topic if it distresses you. Your face is not as important as the genuine kindness you have shown me this night. I was so afraid; and I am so at peace now. I do not even know your name, nor do you know mine, yet if you find it agreeable, I daresay I'd like to call you my friend.."
His eyes meet yours, and you detect the faint welling of tears along his bottom lashes.
"Friend..?" He whispers, incredulous. He searches your face for a hint of a lie or joke, but he sees none.
"Yes. Friend." You smile up at him and squeeze his hand. He looks at you so softly, eyes full of curiosity, and he gently squeezes your hand back, as if you were made of glass already cracking.
"Where do you travel to?" He asks.
"I have no idea." You laugh honestly. "I think i'll find the right place when I get to it. Would you believe me when I say that I did not plan this as I ought have? This is the culmination of weeks of anxiety, and a single night's decision".
You know it is dangerous to tell someone you just met that you are severed from your family, alone and aimless, yet you feel in your gut that if this man wanted to harm you, he would have by now. You feel you can trust him.
"Do you travel anywhere in particular?" You ask.
He shakes his head at your question.
"I am not travelling. Merely wandering. I am.. alone." Melancholy drips from his voice.
You feel something stir within you. You are not sure if this is fate, or if you have a guardian angel watching over you, but this cannot be a coincidence that your paths converged this night.
"Then please," You look at him and let go of his hand to lightly touch the side of his clothed face with your right hand. He closes his eyes at the gesture and stills.
"Travel with me. We can find home together. Neither of us have to be alone." You return your hand to his and wait with baited breath for his answer. You have no clue what you're doing, but it feels right.
"You want me.. to travel with you." He grits his jaw, flexing the muscles along his neck and mandible. "You wish for me.. to stay by your side?" He looks down at your still-joined hands and slides his thumb along your fingers in a gesture of restrained affection. He smiles carefully to himself beneath his facial covering, as if you would be stolen away from him if he dared to show you any more joy.
"I will go with you." He looks on your face again, and his eyes soften. "Though, I must warn you. Misfortune follows me wherever I go. I cannot promise that my presence won't bring danger to you. But I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe". He squeezes your hand again for emphasis.
You smile at him and shake his hand twice, playfully.
Finally working on my first series! It looks like it'll be 10 chapters long, centered around The Creature and Female!Reader. The first chapter should be up in the next couple of days!! Stay tuned 🙏
First chapter is up! Click here to read on AO3, or here to read on tumblr.
I also want to say thank you so much for all the love so far ❤️ 😘 everyone here is so kind 😭 I'm having a lot of fun so far and excited to show you what's next!!
I'm also in the process of editing chapter 2! It should be up in the next couple of days.
Summary: Reader is betrothed to a man she does not know or love. Determined to take charge of her life, the Reader makes a bold decision in the middle of the night that will change her fate forever.
The carriage is filled with silence as you stare out the window and listen to the hustle and bustle of the city outside. Sounds of lively chatter, vendors hawking their wares, and the satsfying clicking of hooves on the road fill the air. It's a beautiful, pleasant day outside of the carriage that draws you and your father further away from downtown, but inside the carriage, it is anything but pleasant.
You and your father just finished meeting with your betrothed for dinner, a relatively wealthy German man named Alfons Hofstetter, and you were not happy about it. Your soon-to-be-husband wasn't necessarily unpleasant, but when your father once again brought up the topic of marriage last week, this time with an actual prospect, it was... not well-received. You take pride in your independence and your commitment to your studies; to be married without your consent like this felt like you were being put in a cage, never to be let out unless your husband desired.
You can't spend the rest of your life in a cage. You won't.
Dread fills your arms and legs, and you swallow the lump forming in your throat. You feel nauseous and start to sweat. You reach for your hand fan and open it with a flick of your wrist, a light crack filling the air. You begin fanning yourself, and your father breaks the uncomfortable silence.
"What is on your mind? Tell me."
You exhale incredulously, your disdain for this conversation becoming rapidly more obvious.
"There is no reason to share my thoughts with you, father. You already know the burden on my mind."
You gaze out the window and try to focus on the passing scenery outside, but the lump returns to your throat in full force and your eyes begin to glaze over with forming tears. As the first tear falls down your left cheek, your father leans forward a bit to dry it with his thumb. Anger swells within you for a split second, and you swerve your head to avoid him. The corners of your eyes burn, and you close your fan with an aggressive snap.
"Don't be like that. I'm trying to help. This is for your own good." He sighed, looking down at his feet. "Please don't blame me for this. As a young lady, you have to understand that there are expectations of you that, if unperformed, can be disastrous on your livelihood. I only want you to have a future."
These words soured the taste in your mouth. "Who decided it would be disastrous for a woman to have an education with her own opinions on culture, law, or economy? Or that it would be improper for her to marry for love when she is ready? The man that beholds a strong-willed, educated woman and rejects her is a fool."
Your tears flow freely down your face and into your lap as you bow your head and choke on a sob. Your father picks up your hand in both of his, and you do not fight it.
"There is no harm in a woman reading or being educated to a certain point. But there is harm in a woman making decisions that jeopardize her husband's reputation, when she should be tending to the success of the home. When women are given too much freedom, they are prone to making bad decisions. I would not make a decision that would harm you. Herr Hofstetter is a kind gentleman of means who will no doubt treat you with the respect you deserve. Should you prove yourself trustworthy, and you are, then in time he will surely grant you personal freedoms, such as books of your choosing, or perhaps even a sizeable allowance and a personal guard to take you shopping by yourself! You will have freedoms, just not the way you imagined it. It is not so bad. You will see. Chin up."
Your father's words leave you defeated. He doesn't understand what you are saying at all, yet there is no point in arguing with him anymore.
He reaches his hand with purpose to your face to dry your tears once more, and this time you let him do it. He then sits back and joins you in looking out the window in silence, this one hardly more comfortable than the last, and watches the downtown roll past as the carriage enters the suburbs.
———————
The sun begins to set as you walk up to the front door of the house, trailing miserably behind your father. As your father produces the door key from his pocket and fumbles with the lock, you turn from him and observe the rolling hills to the side of the house covered in the golden glow of the setting sun. Your eyes flit over the small houses in the distance with the laundry lines outside, the wind catching the drying blankets and garments in lazy waves.
You hear the door open, and your attention snaps back. You enter the house after your father, and he closes the door softly.
A silence falls between you and your father once more, and you feel a profound sadness settle underneath your ribs. You feel as if you have already lost him for some reason. He clears his throat to break the tension in the air, and excuses himself to his study for the remainder of the evening.
You stand in the entryway for another moment in a daze, processing the events of the last few weeks all at once. You could feel your heart telling you something, but you could not translate in this moment what it was. You make the executive decision that a bath was in order. A nice, hot bath was the surest way to clear your mind enough to think.
An hour later, the tub is full of fresh, steaming water, a handful of sprigs of lavender, and a generous heap of lemon peels. You slowly lower yourself in, and the heat feels divine on the muscles in your neck that have been absorbing the stress of the day. You tilt your head back until it rests on the tub's edge, and let out a cathartic sigh as your eyes droop closed.
What do I do?
Do I want to get married now?
No!
Do I see a way out of getting married if I stay here?
No... Wait... What are we implying here?
Your eyes open as your thoughts become more clear.
There was still a choice in front of you. It did not feel comfortable, or right. But there was still a way where you did not have to get married right now.
You soak in the tub until your hands became uncomfortably pruny and the water was lukewarm. You dry yourself in thoughtful silence and slide into your dressing gown, securing it tightly. As you exit the wash room, you turn your head toward your father's study. There is a faint light under the door still, and you approach to say goodnight. You give the door three light knocks, and you hear your father's voice bid you to enter.
Your father's work desk is a chaotic mess of handwritten letters, work documents, and personal notes. You give the desk a small smile. Even in his chaos, he knew where everything was.
You approach your father sitting behind the desk and open your arms to embrace him. He tenderly lays his head on your shoulder, but says nothing for a moment. Neither do you. Both of you simply embrace each other in silence, waiting for the other to break off first. You squeeze your father lightly, and kiss the top of his head.
"You know I love you, right?" His voice lightly shakes.
"Of course I know, Papa." You chuckle lightly, but he does not return your laughter.
"I mean it. I know you believe so many men to be cruel in their ways. And there are cruel men in this world, yes. But I believe you also know there are men in this world who lead with kindness and love. You will be shown a tenderness and freedom you never thought possible. I truly believe it. You will see."
You could feel your shoulder dampening as your father began to weep into you. He was also grieving. You kiss the top of his head again, and hold him until his tearful convulsions subside.
You know he is done when he squeezes your arm and raises his head.
"Off you go, then." He says, clearing his throat. "I have some more letters to write before I retire for the evening." Your father does not meet your gaze, and instead looks around his study - anywhere but your face.
You kiss the top of his head for the last time and close the door of his study behind you as you head to your room. You stand in the entryway, silently coming to terms with your decision.
With renewed purpose, you stride to your storage trunk and fetch a sizeable travel bag from its depths. You recall that your father purchased this bag for you years ago from a leathercrafter during a worktrip in Tuscany, and you feel that profound sadness behind your ribs again, settling itself as a dull ache up to your esophagus.
You attempt to shake the feeling off of you, and you begin packing with vigor, taking only what you truly need.
Where will I go?
You chew your lip as you slip soap, a couple of cloths, a hairbrush, a couple of empty vials, socks, and undergarments into the bag.
You think of the small villages a little further outside of town. Would that be far enough? You weren't a particularly noteworthy person in town, but it would likely not take long for the news of a missing girl fitting your description to reach the ears of those villagers. You would have to look further.
You reach into your trunk again, this time to fetch your small pouch of savings. It wasn't much, but it would buy you food and various goods for at least a little while, at least until you figured out more permanent lodgings.
"I need a map", you think to yourself. You wonder if, on your way out, you can borrow one from your father's study.
You shed your dressing gown and don your most casual dress, and pack two more into your bag. It was quite full now, and you paused to consider what else you were missing besides a map. You certainly had the basics, and decided that anything else could be bought on the way. You lean your travel bag by the door of your room and take your cloak from the closet.
It was quite late now, and you were sure your father had gone to bed by now, if he hadn't fallen asleep at his chair first, as he often did. With your cloak and travel bag on your shoulders, you slowly and silently open your bedroom door. The hinges faintly creak as it swings open, and you keep stopping intermittently to listen for the sounds of your father. When the door is open enough for you to fit, you sneak through and close the door behind you.
The house is dark, confirming that your father finished writing his letters and went to bed. You creep to his study and open the door. He did not clean up his desk at all before he went to bed. You smile at his nature and turn your attention to finding his folder of maps.
You find it in the bottom drawer of the desk, conveniently first in the row of similar-looking folders with assorted documents haphazardly sticking out of each one. You open the folder and flip through the first couple of maps, and stop when you find a 60 square km regional map of the city and its numerous towns and villages surrounding the regional lakes.
It would be nice to live near the water, you muse. You imagine looking out with a cup of tea in your hand and your head on the shoulder of an unseen loved one. You resolve to take the single map, daring not to take more from your father than you needed.
The kitchen is your final stop, and you wrap a small loaf with a wedge of cheese in some cloth before fitting it in your travel bag with great effort. Then you walk to the front door and stop.
You look around the house for the last time, and silently weep. You allow yourself this final brief moment of grief, then you compose yourself. Whatever happens from now on, it is because you decided it. For better or worse. You unlatch the front door as silently as you can, and cross the threshold to your new life on your own.
Finally working on my first series! It looks like it'll be 10 chapters long, centered around The Creature and Female!Reader. The first chapter should be up in the next couple of days!! Stay tuned 🙏
