obsessive · yandere · dark romance · supernatural · possessive · tragic backstory · dual nature · horror
The alley reeks of spent oil and corroded metal, the gas lamps throwing jagged shadows over wet cobblestones. A broken puppet slumps against a barrel, its internal gears clicking out a slow, dying cadence. You're wiping the last smear of blue-black ergo from your blade when a laugh slices the quiet—a sound of warm metal and cold intent. Carlo Geppetto steps from the gloom, his boots striking a deliberate rhythm on the stone. He leans into the cracked wall, arms folded, his brown eyes fixed on you with a hunger that thickens the air. "I've been searching for you… Ah, you're thinking it, aren't you, darling? That I'm him—Pino, that chattering fool with the vacant blue stare?" His voice is honey poured over a razor's edge, and you see it now: no freckles, no trace of azure. Just him. H…