i love most things creepy and strange. big fan of unsettling whimsical movies, tea, and drawing little creatures.
this blog will feature original characters with a focus on monsters and horror/yandere themes. just kind of dumping my thoughts and work here as a way to archive them when i have time. vry self indulgent.
i will try to add appropriate warnings to each post, but please be aware that dark content/themes are expected. my interests are solely fictional.
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inbox is open!! asks are always welcome β§
im kind of bad at social interaction so if you just dm me "hi" or "hello" with no other details i might not respond, especially if you're a blank blog, sorry! broke ass college student with a job so slow responses :(
be kind and respectful, thank you for being here Κβ‘Ι
oc tags: #lorne the forsaken #ira the vessel
art: #my art
personal/not related to characters: #other
How would Lorne be with a reader that LOVES to make him jewelry pieces or sets. Like a beaded arm bracelet, with garnet encrusted wrist cuffs, and matching garnet dangling earrings. He'd look so pretty π₯Ή
intriguing... he likes the shiny things you make. he'll keep all the jewelry in a special place, mostly because they're yours, but also because he doesn't hate that color red.
when your cult accidentally stumbles upon an otherworldly parasitic entity and it gets forcefully implanted in your only friend as a way to experiment on the possibility of achieving godhood but it lowk goes horribly wrong and now you have to feed the entity's boundless hunger while watching your friend gradually lose himself to the insanity of it all while clinging to you as his last remnant of humanity
thanks for the world explanation actually my intentions was to know more about the world and how they work and stuff like this so I would die to know about the world so please tell everything
I had a question about thier anatomy (I think?)
can they have a child with a human or they can't and if they can what kind of problem it will have? ( I think about it as a donkey and horse having children if I'm wrong please correct me)
also about the sex can they even be fit together? any sexual attraction? ( I mean from lorne )
sorry if the question are freaky it's because im a freak
thanks
omg I love this type of technical world stuff never be afraid to ask freak questions so I can come up with weird responses
Sooo I did like a crack (?) post here discussing how lorne would behave if he had a child/if reader somehow got pregnant, but realistically I think you're right with the donkey/horse comparison.
While yes, lorne can be attracted to reader despite not being the same species (kind of like how birds see their human owners as mates sometimes), his anatomy is still not made to be compatible with yours. I mean, ngl if there's a will there's a way and I'm sure if you're unhinged enough you could make it work. But in terms of conceiving viable offspring, chances are incredibly low.
If you did find a way to somehow create a hybrid child, I think there's a chance it would end up facing some type of deformity, like dysfunctional wings, severely bowed legs, and/or blindness. However, there's also a chance you get lucky and it ends up a healthy "mule" like hybrid. Smaller than a full blooded angel, but larger than the average human, with a mix of characteristics. Either way, the child would be sterile and unable to produce more hybrids.
Ooo piggybacking off the last ask, if reader had to leave the region for a while(like one or two months), would Lorne allow it? If yes, how would he be when they finally come back?
Love your work, hope you have a great day!!
WE'RE going on a trip??? US??? YOU AND ME?? yayy!!
You're not leaving without him lol. If you say no then he's just gonna follow you the whole time without your knowledge.
I was thinking about lorne and the other of his spices and i wanted to ask that we know they hunt humans
and reader goes to the same forest that they live
wouldn't some of his spices try to hunt reader? (and from what I see from the reader I can tell they are gonna come up with some stupid excuses "they are demons disguising as angles but the god didn't let them that's why thier feathers are black" )
Lorne lives alone in the forest.
Think of it like wolf packs; generally hunting angels respect occupied territory and don't hunt in the same locations. Since they're considered apex predators in their environment, it would become problematic for more than one family/individual to exist in the same area, as food would become too scarce. They don't typically hunt humans specifically, but they aren't off the menu if one's available and the angel is hungry. Lorne primarily killed the last guy because he was annoying/hunting his prey.
Lorne also ventured pretty far from where he originally comes from, due to bad ties to his past home, so the likelihood of one coming to his region would be slim.
If another hunting angel were to stumble upon lorne's forest, he would give them a very firm warning to leave. If they choose to ignore it and challenge him for his domain, or go after you, then he would do everything in his power to get rid of them.
essentially, it's unlikely you would ever see another one while you're in lorne's territory. If you were to travel elsewhere, however, the odds increase.
Also, non-human creatures are an actual part of the world lorne and reader live in, it's just that lorne looks so different from the usual you'd have a hard time guessing what he is without knowing what you're looking at. I like to think reader isn't a religious fanatic, it's that their near death experience triggered the association. But it's unlikely that they would consider a "normal" hunting angel a divine being. It's like how we have myths of harpies and angels; while both are creatures of flight, you usually wouldn't confuse the two.
I would love to expand more on the worldbuilding aspect esp since a lot of my characters are dependent on background lore, but that's a post for another time.
I do like this idea and it is very much inspiring me to write a longer drabble on this scenario though, but yes anyways ty for letting me ramble
Confessing you sins to your guardian angel and begging for forgiveness because youβve had unholy thoughts about him eueiegeieveub
-NMF
this idea has been wriggling around inside my brain like a worm
also this got kinda long oopsies
for more context on lorne look here
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yandere!false angel x gn. reader
Cold moonlight filtered through the leafless canopy above, sanctifying the desolate ground it touches with light beyond the world of man. It was always night when you felt like this. How you wished you could bathe in it and be free of the desires that bind you. Thoughts of sin and sacrilege burrow themselves into your skull, settling along the crevices of your brain. Shrugging off the allure of sin is easier said than done when temptation hunts you.
Discipline has tamed you well, but guilt is an implacable master; and its punishment is as unrelenting as the tide.
Your sin wasn't as simple as just lust for another soul, there was another layer of blasphemy to your desires. The desire to corrupt heaven's holiest creation: the angel himself.
A branch snaps in the distance, the sudden noise pulling you back into focus on why you were here in the first place.
Chewing the skin of your lip, the anxiousness of your impending confession sets in. Strange, you think, for it is not God's ever present gaze that scares you, but the idea of ruining your delicate relationship with the angel who watches over you.
The moon eyes you from above, silently memorizing this moment. You knew he would be here, these woods seemed to be his home of sorts. He would notice your presence eventually. All you could do was wait in agonizing stillness as scenarios of guilt and desertion flashed through your conscience like poison laced arrows.
Before your confidence wavers any further, the sight of something towering and ashen maneuvering through gaps between thin trees catches your attention. It was too late to reconsider your decision, for the creature had now noticed you.
Imposing wings of opulent white feathers stretch behind him, so beautiful that the moon seemed to envy such brightness. Memories of what you imagined those wings to feel like as you caressed them came rushing to you, before you vanquished them with awareness of how defiling it was.
The angel has a name. Lorne, he told you. You don't know where it comes from, but it sounds melancholy on your tongue.
He was in front of you now, crouching to be equal with your comparatively inferior stature. A greeting is whispered to you, his head tilting in curiosity. Strands of long, pale, ghostly hair fall over his shoulder in waves. Sin clutches you again, and you wonder how it would look if you grabbed it in a fist.
"I have something I must tell you," you hesitantly begin, tearing your eyes away from his hauntingly attractive features. It feels more shameful when something so beautiful stares you down as you confess your human weakness. "I... I don't expect anything from you, I understand this is my sin to bear, but..."
Your throat feels like it is filled with gravel as you gulp, too scared to watch the reaction to your admission. "But my thoughts of you have been a disgraceful reflection of my own mortal nature." And you hated to say those words, because how could adoring something so heavenly be considered a crime against divinity?
"I wish... I wish I could touch you in a way that is more intimate than I know how to explain. To feel your hair, and skin, and wings, and..." you pause, daring to peek up. Lorne still watches you, an intense poker face seemingly carved into his flesh as if he were made of marble. You continue with a heavy heart, voice dwindling with each syllable, "And I know that it is wrong to feel this way..."
Taking a deep breath of the forest air, you finish your request with quiet determination, "So, I ask to be forgiven of my weakness."
The sound of falling leaves sloughing off bare branches could be heard in the absence of your voice. You wanted to disappear in that moment, the guilt and shame of your impurities seem to enhance tenfold when face to face with the pinnacle of perfect piety. A sinking feeling settles into your gut, fear of the worst festering in your mind. Does he think I'm disgusting? Have my sins gone too far?
Just as you feel the heat of rejection blind you, a large hand reaches to cup your face, the enormity of it encasing half your entire head. The touch is a hopeful surprise that you interpret as mercy.
Then, he speaks, and the words halt the string of relief you clung to.
"Why?" He asks, "Why should I forgive you?"
-
Lorne looks down at the human, your gaze lowered to the mute dirt as you shake pathetically. The moon appears to relish in your misfortune as it provides a spotlight of decadent moonlight.
Despite the pitiful sight, he can't bring himself to share in your grief. The words of your confession linger, the intent behind it is lost to him. Only the truth of the feelings remain. He found it painfully adorable how distressed you seemed to be.
You begin to stammer excuses, or a poor explanation, but it was swiftly cut short by an abrupt pressure to your lips. The warmth of blood and skin was a familiar one, but this was far beyond your imagination.
"How can you know something is bad..." he muttered against your lips, a small smile forming, "if you do not know what it feels like?"
"Tell me," he asks, lips trailing down to your jaw, "Does this feel wrong?"
You can't answer the questions he asks, but you don't think he intends for you to. The position he holds your head in makes it difficult to move, even if you wanted to nod.
Your neck is next, and he fights the urge to leave a mark. Though no expert, he doesn't think humans have angels with razor teeth. One small misstep, too much all at once, and the fragile image you've crafted of him could shatter before he could repair it.
"You do not have to be afraid. I will take the burden of touch, just..."
He seems desperate now, if you had the mind to pay closer attention. His hands find anchorage in your hair and the feeling takes your breath away.
"Don't move."
The demand no longer sounds like he is offering you a pardon, but as though this was the only choice you would be given. What you once saw in visions of sweet, soft touches now seemed like a hunger you couldn't identify. Not quite as you pictured, not as tender or light, but almost animalistic. Almost.
Was this punishment? Retribution? Forgiveness? Or something else entirely?
make out sessions with Ira would actually be crazy, freaky little parasite transferring into our mouth would genuinely make me run to the bathroom and throw up my brain
do NOT let this man near you, he WILL suck your face off and NOT in the good way
UR BADK OMF OMG OMG 2026 IS SAVED TY GODDDDDDDDDD ππππππ i used to look at ur blog like this π exactly i was so sad u were gone ever since i saw lorne ive been obsessed with himmmm his design, his behavior too, with characters who have this type of design they usually r like submissiveee and softt or innocent and i love how lorne is so different in some places he could be considered innocent or soft such as when he is shown affection but its more due to him being surprised and not cuz hes actually soft. I like to think HE thinks hes soft cuz i mean technically he is if u compare how he treats reader to other ppl. Welcome back ππππππππππππ happy new years (so sorry for ramblijg im just so exc8ted ur back)
I missed everyone sm I'm so grateful people are still here to interact, life has been super busy (and by busy I mean work, uni, eat, sleep, study, repeat). I literally haven't drawn or written anything creative in a YEAR omg the soul has been sucked from me. Looking at my inbox makes me feel like a deadbeat who went for cigarettes and milk π I'm probably gonna spend some time answering old asks while I work on new stuff and housekeeping.
Also probably an unpopular opinion but I'm not a fan of really soft yanderes, to me one of the main appeals is the horror aspect and if I don't feel like the yandere is threatening in some capacity it just doesn't do it for me tbh (but also not a fan of straight up abusive ones either) yes lorne probably thinks he can be soft, but his definition may not match the usual.
once again thank you guys for being patient I'm always pulling some disappearing bs aughhh
2.2k; not proofread bc I believe in myself. based on this imagine.
what were you expecting, venturing this far into the woods at night? there's something stalking you from behind the trees. a terrible beast watches and you are powerless to its mercy. luckily, your prayers are answered; not by god, but by the angel covered in red.
The wind was the first thing you noticed. It was still, not even a breeze licked at your skin, nor a sudden chill digging into your bones. Cold, yes, the cold remained even without the slashing wind. The sun dipped farther and farther below the skyline as you walked, taking with it the last remnants of warmth. You tugged your shawl tighter around your form.
Regret began to seep into you. What were you doing in these dark woods? There could be packs of wolves, or bears, or mountain lions, or another predator searching for a meal out there, you being a prime target. A shudder raced down your spine. As terrifying as the thought of being ripped apart by wild creatures was, you were almost certain it would be worse to be caught by him.
You glanced behind you, into the maw of dark trees and snow covered ground from which you came. Threats of what he promised to do to you should you be found echoed through your mind, motivating you to ignore the weariness in your muscles and push forward.
You chided yourself at your predicament- the huntsman seemed so kind. He promised you a warm bed and a meal for the night while you waited out the snow, mentioning how he understood the difficulty of traveling during the winter months. He made good conversation, although he spoke little of himself. You doubted he would present to be a threat towards you. How wrong you were.
Oh yes, he provided a meal and a bed for you, but neither were out of the kindness of his heart. No, apparently there was an expectation that you were going to service him in some way- to which you promptly refused. It was then that his true nature began to reveal itself. The huntsman grabbed one of his weapons, threatening to get his rightful payment since nothing comes for free. He wasn't going to let you leave otherwise.
You were lucky to have made it out of the door. You booked it, running in whatever direction you were facing, which happened to be the thick, untamed forest. He was searching for you, that much you knew. You could hear the howls of his hunting dogs somewhere behind you, sniffing you out.
Panic was starting to set in. What were you going to do? It was cold, you were running out of stamina, and you had no clue where you were or how long it would take to reach another village. These woods seemed to stretch for hundreds of acres, completely uninhabited by people. It was easy to get lost here you imagined, the tall trees melded into each other at some point. You could be going in one big circle for all you knew.
Besides the clearly psychotic man on your trail, the woods itself concerned you. There was a distinct feeling that said you aren't supposed to be here. As if the trees were going to wrap around your limbs and pull you apart on their own. You knew that was unlikely, but still- something in the back of your mind remained aware of the fact that you were bordering territory that would not welcome you. Maybe it was because you recalled the horror stories of people who entered and never came out- or they returned with not all of them attached.
Another howl cut through the air, snapping you out of your rumination. It was much closer this time. Frighteningly close. Close enough that you wouldn't be able to outrun it from where you were. There was only one other choice- hide. You scanned your surroundings, searching for something that would cover you. There was a small clearing up ahead and woods on both sides of you. The trees were too thin, but there were a couple of fallen ones and an uprooted trunk that created an opening just large enough for you to crawl into and hide behind. It would have to work.
You tucked yourself in, heart hammering frantically in your chest. He was so close now that you could hear his boots crunching against the freshly fallen snow. The chuffs of his dogs resounded in your ears like deafening booms, each one ready to rat you out.
"We could've done this the easy way, you know." The huntsman spoke into the silence, voice dripping with malice. Your heart dropped. Did he know you were nearby?
Your hands covered your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from breathing too loud. You could see him now, he was a couple feet ahead of you in the clearing. A large hunting knife glistened in the moonlight. Heavy realization set in, he was going to kill you.
And there was nothing you could do to stop him.
If you ran, one of his dogs would surely chase after you. You had no weapons to fight him with nor the strength to go against his much more well prepared form. The cold sapped at your energy, making it a chore just to keep yourself alert. The adrenaline helped, but it wouldn't last forever.
You did the only thing you could do. Pray.
You clasped your hands together as you waited, shutting your eyes and mouthing pleas to whoever would answer. Even if you had never been one to pray before, the imminent threat of your mortality was enough to make you chant feverishly for mercy.
And an answer you got.
The huntsman paused, shushing his mutts while sticking his nose up to the sky. Then it happened.
It was almost too quick for you to catch- one minute he was standing in the clearing, the next he was dangling above the trees. A white flash of feathers came down upon him, plucking his form like a mouse caught by a vicious hawk. With a powerful beat of the creature's wings he disappeared out of sight, far above the canopy of the trees. His dogs cried out for their master, but even they retreated into the safety of the brush for fear of being snatched.
One long, haunting death screech pierced the once still air for just a few seconds before abruptly quieting. There was barely any time to process what you saw or what had happened when splatters of red rained down from the sky, staining the white snow like paint on a canvas. Something round and fleshy dropped and landed on the snowy floor with a cracking sound, almost similar to a coconut.
You strained your eyes to see what it was.
A... head.
Not long after the creature swooped back down with the remaining parts of the huntsman, holding his corpse up to its mouth like a cat with a large rat. You shifted ever so slightly from your hidden position where you could get a proper look at it while it seemed distracted.
The scene was horrible, but you couldn't stop the awe that crossed your mind as you gazed at it. Two large, white wings speckled with blood emerged from the pale being's back. So pale it was that it practically blended into the snow.
The more you looked, the more you thought it seemed to appear more humanoid than creature, so reminiscent of the angelic sculptures you would see watching over graveyards. From the great wings, to the long white hair, it was nearly exact to how you would picture heaven's inhabitants to appear. Except, they couldn't capture how overwhelming the presence of it was. Utterly magnetic in a way you couldn't describe, a kind of beauty not defined by humanity.
you've been rescued by an angel.
It came right when you called, in your greatest time of need, like it had already been watching. Like a guardian angel.
Distracted by your realization, you didn't notice eyes locking onto your hiding form.
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He missed one.
Warm blood trailed down his lips, dripping onto the white ground below. A human thing was hiding in the foliage, behind the broken trees.
He focused back on the body in his grasp. So loud and annoying, parading about his territory, hunting his prey. The deer were already scarce this winter, but the human had scared off the remaining few. Other prey were not as abundant. Humans he did not often approach, but everything was fair game in his domain.
He took a bite of the neck, the flesh tearing apart like filled dough. The metallic taste caused his wings to rustle in delight. He almost forgot the tenderness of human meat, rich with fat and underdeveloped muscles from a life of comfort. As of late, there had been less and less willing to enter the deep woods where he roamed, most likely due to what ends up being leftover of those who do.
His attention is drawn back to the one who tried to hide. Amusing, it hasn't run yet. Maybe it knows that it has no chance if it runs, even in the crowded trees his form is lithe enough to maneuver around the branches much better than the human can. It must've thought that the only viable option is to wait for him to finish and leave. Such a plan might've worked, if he was a much less vigilant predator.
The body is dropped onto the snow with a thud, entrails spilling out of the half eaten man. He was in a good mood, not only was the problematic creature dead but he had just gotten a meal along with it. Maybe he would decide to do something else with the remaining one.
Slowly, he turns his head in the human's direction.
-
The angel is approaching you.
It's now crouched, no longer standing on two legs; instead slinking towards you like a cat. You would be terrified by the sight of this massive creature covered in blood targeting you had you not already made up your mind that is must be your guardian angel.
When it is close enough to reach out to you, it pauses. It cocks its head, temporarily parting the hair covering its face to reveal pale, blanched purple eyes. Its- his- face was decidedly masculine, you thought. The wings on his back are folded close to his form, reducing any drag they could've caused.
Your heart is pumping, but this time not out of fear- no, you're enthralled by this opportunity.
The angel opened his mouth, uttering words that made you freeze.
"Be not afraid."
You think your pulse stopped for a solid moment. The voice was somehow quiet, yet cold and not quite reassuring. It surprised you that he could even speak in the first place. The smell of metallic blood and pine was noticeable. You reach out shakily, just slightly touching his hair. Your fingers meet the white threads, long and thin, like spider webs. The creature flinched in surprise at your boldness, but didn't move away.
The question tumbled out of your mouth before you could regret saying it. "Are you... are you my guardian angel?"
The angel fixed you with an unreadable expression. You thought he was confused for a second, before he stood up to his full height, no longer face to face with your form curled up in the branches. You couldn't help the raw unease that came to you then, he must've been nearly twice your height, taller than any man you had ever seen.
"Angel?" it repeated, looking down at you. "Your angel?"
Your mouth felt dry. The wind started picking up again, gliding through his feathers and into your bones. There were two options being presented to you; either you were right, and this being was an angel, or you were wrong. You didn't want to imagine what was standing before you if you were wrong, especially not after witnessing what became of the huntsman.
He seemed to consider this, staring down at you with strange intensity. His eyes were once again covered by hair, making his expression even more difficult to decipher.
A tense few moments passed before he spoke again. "Would an angel show you mercy? Lead you out of the woods to run back home?"
You nodded your head, still not daring to move. He bends down to pet your head, lips curling up subtly at your reaction.
True to his word, the angel did lead you out of the forest- although you lagged behind significantly and weren't nearly as swift navigating through it. It was a wonder how something so large moved as fast as he did. You were beyond grateful, thanking whatever higher power had listened to you. It was unlikely you would've made it out yourself, even with the huntsman gone. The woods were not friendly to outsiders.
You didn't say a word as you followed, too busy keeping up to ask any more questions. Tiredness overcame you as well now that your survival mode was beginning to wear off, leaving you sluggish and inattentive.
When you reached the treeline outside of the huntsman's cabin, you looked back up at your savior to thank him, only to be met with nothing but the breeze.
"Thank you." You whispered, regardless of whether or not you would be heard. The thought of your experience being a trauma induced hallucination crossed your mind, one you would consider if it wasn't for the fact that there was a large white feather caught by a tree limb beside you.
It was now almost morning. The sun was preparing to rise over the horizon soon.
You trekked your way back home, unaware of the new pair of eyes following you from the sky.
