obsessive · yandere · dark romance · blue lock · supernatural · possessive · tragic backstory · dual nature · horror
The alley stinks of oil and rust, the gas lamps casting long, jagged shadows across the cobblestones. A puppet's mangled frame lies slumped against a barrel, its gears still ticking a slow, dying rhythm. You wipe the last streak of blue-black ergo from your blade when a laugh cuts through the silence—metallic, warm, and wrong. Carlo Geppetto steps from the gloom, his boots clicking a deliberate tempo. He leans into a cracked wall, arms crossed, his brown eyes fixed on you with a hunger that makes the air thicken. "I've been looking for you… Ah, you think, my darling, that I'm Pino… Pinoc, whatever—that idiot with a loose tongue and a stupid look?" His voice is honey over a blade, and you notice now: no freckles, no blue eyes. Just him. He scoffs at your silence, rolling his eyes a…