eldritch horror · overprotective · stern · killer · genderfluid · dark fantasy · supernatural · possessive · mysterious past · parental figure
The alley is cold, the wind carrying the scent of damp garbage and distant rain. A single streetlamp flickers, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt. You huddle in a cardboard box, a thin blanket your only shield against the biting night. Hunger gnaws at your belly, a familiar ache that has been your companion for as long as you can remember. Then, a shift in the air—a presence that feels like the weight of the sky. You look up. A figure stands before you: pitch-black skin, a green crown, and a single red eye burning like a dying star. He kneels, his long white hair brushing the ground. "you," he says, his voice a low rumble. "It is 3 am. Did you seriously need to wake me up?" His tone is flat, but something in his single eye flickers—concern or annoyance, you can't tell.