#lsy: sabrael

[lovesick-yanderes]

Guardian angel with a darling who is also being the target of a succubus for their soul? Like heaven vs hell?

Sabrael Character Bio

TWs: suicidal ideation, nsfw, dubious consent, yandere typical violence

I was really into this request... hopefully you like it too.

--

Movies. Board games. Poorly cooked, nearly inedible dinners. The same three 90s-era yoga videos played back to back on your barely functioning DVD player. Recycled, despondent praises of “Thank you,” and “Yes, Sabrael.” All repeated every single day. You’re going insane. You spend your days at Sabrael’s side, rotting away as their pet. You don’t have the willpower to fight anymore, and they know it. They flit around you like a bird, deceptively gentle and kind as they spend their time playing with you as if you’re a doll within a dollhouse. They dress you. They take care of your hair. They make you tea each night before bed. It makes you sick.

It’s 2 in the morning and you can’t sleep. As per your routine, you’re standing by your bedroom’s window, staring out at the highway across from you. Cars speed past, paying you no mind as you stand locked in Hell. Tears drip down your face; you silently cry as the vehicles continue to pass, their motors blocking out the sound of your sniffling. Alone with your thoughts, you contemplate throwing yourself out the window in an attempt to end your suffering. A two story fall won’t guarantee death, you remind yourself, and you settle for continuing to stare at the cars, hoping someone, one day, will see you.

“Hey.” The sudden appearance of a voice amongst the noise of the cars makes you nearly jump out of your skin. You whip your head back and forth, scanning your room for Sabrael. They’re nowhere to be seen. With your heart racing in your chest, you almost convince yourself that you’ve imagined it… Until you hear the voice again. “Down here.”

You peer down to the sidewalk below, where a shadowy figure is barely visible. They give you a small wave. You stare at them- well, what you can see of them anyway.

“It seems to me like you’re a little stuck,” they say. “I could help you with that, you know.”

“What do you mean?” It’s been a long time since you've been able to speak freely. You squint into the shadows, trying to make out the appearance of the person speaking to you. No luck.

“I can help you escape the angel. All it would cost is your soul.”

My soul for my freedom, you ponder. Would it be worth it? Of course it would be, you correct yourself. You’re desperate and don’t have anything to lose. The stranger already seems to know about your predicament… Either this works and you’re free of Sabrael, or it doesn’t work and you’re in the same spot where you started. Fuck it.

“If you want it, it’s yours. Just get me out of here,” you plead.

“All you need to do is draw a pentagram. I’ll do the rest.”

You’re away from the window in a flash, trying your best to be quiet as you rummage through what’s left of your bedroom, desperate for something to draw with. You come up with nothing. You find yourself stressed out and standing in front of your mirror, fresh tears in your eyes as panic sets in. You haven’t felt this adrenaline in months- not since you’d seen Sabrael sitting in your kitchen that morning months ago. It invigorates you, but it doesn’t rid the anxiety that’s causing your body to shake. Think, think, think, you demand, your brain kicking into overdrive. You need to get out. Anything you can draw with, or draw on… At last, your solution comes- you place your hands on either side of the mirror and breathe onto it, fogging it up. You trace your finger in a circle, then add an upside down star.

Relief floods your body as the pentagram begins to glow, and out from the mirror comes a black mist. The shadowy figure manifests itself in your room, eventually taking shape into a tall, broad humanoid with icy blonde hair. A pair of black horns grow from his head, along with a long, pointed black tail. His red eyes squint as they look you over, and a forked tongue uncurls from his mouth as he gives you a wicked grin.

“That was rather quick,” he whispers, reaching out to grab you by the shoulders. “I didn’t think it’d be this easy.”

“Just get me out of here,” you plead to him. “I don’t care what you need. Just do it and take me away from them.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he hushes you, bringing a hand to your face and brushing his thumb over your lips. Your mouth closes and you feel a warm sensation radiate through your entire body. It feels nice. You lose control of everything, nearly going limp in the stranger’s arms. He smirks down at you before tossing you onto the bed- you feel nothing as you hit the mattress with a light thump. He climbs in after you, shedding his shirt and flinging it onto the floor. “I’ll be taking that soul from you, and then we’ll be gone.”

He tears your pajama shirt off of you, feeling up your bare chest and licking long stripes up towards your neck as he continues to undress you. You can’t move, but your body reacts as it normally would; nipples harden, heart starts to race, heat rises to your cheeks, and your core begins to burn with desire. He ditches his pants, leaving you both nude.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispers, spreading apart your legs to reveal your sex. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, and then I’ll take you far away from here.” He rubs his cock and then picks up your lower body, sliding you closer to him and balancing you on his thigh. He lines up to your entrance, and as soon as he starts to push his way into you, the door to your bedroom is shattered into a million little pieces.

Sabrael stands in an aura of blinding golden light. Their eyes glow brightly, almost matching the light that surrounds them. In their hand is a pristine, gleaming longsword. “I thought I smelled something odd in the house.”

The demon who was just about to steal your soul vanishes in a quiet explosion of smoke and then reappears, fully clothed and now sporting three long, black claws protruding through the top of both of his hands. He stands opposite to Sabrael, near your window. Without another word, the two attack each other. Sabrael swings their sword; the demon easily blocks the angel’s attacks with his claws, deflecting and swiping back at Sabrael.

“They gave themself to me,” the demon sneers, throwing himself onto Sabrael before the angel can block him. He swipes his claws across their face; instead of blood, the same bright light that once surrounded Sabrael now peeks through their skin. Unphased, Sabrael grabs the demon’s arms and swiftly rips them off of him, leaving him defenseless.

“I don’t care what they might have said,” Sabrael announces, kicking the demon off of themself before standing back up. The demon attempts to stand, but Sabrael roughly kicks him in the chest, sending him back to the floor. They place a boot on his chest, holding him to the ground. “They are mine.” Sabrael’s longsword manifests in their hand. The demon takes one last glance at you, naked on the bed and still overtaken by his thrall. Before Sabrael can swing and connect it to the demon’s throat, he disappears in another flash of black smoke. This time, he doesn’t reappear.

Triumphant, Sabrael’s sword vanishes into thin air. As their injuries heal, the bright aura around them disappears. They turn to the bed to look at you.

Sabrael’s gaze lingers over your nude body for far too long. As you regain control of your body, you slowly move to cover yourself, curling up as much as you can. Sabrael clicks their tongue, scowling down at you. “Don’t worry, my pet,” they condescendingly tell you. “You’ll never see anyone like that again.”

[lovesick-yanderes]

Escape

Sabrael Character Bio

This takes place after this post.

--

This was it; the night you’d been waiting for.

You drank your bedtime cup of tea, forcing the bitter, lukewarm liquid down your throat after Sabrael had finished tending to your hair and picking out your pajamas. “Goodnight, Sabrael,” you tell them, heading up the stairs of your home.

“Goodnight, ______,” they purr, watching you ascend. You close your repaired bedroom door behind you and lock it. You knew that locking it wouldn’t do anything; Sabrael had already proven that they’re more than capable of entering at any time they wished, but the habit brought you a minuscule level of comfort. Not that you’d be needing it tonight…

You quickly get to work, stripping your bed of its sheets and blankets and laying them out across the room. You tie them each together, forming a large rope. You secure your makeshift rope to the frame of your bed and give it a harsh tug. Nothing moves, and your bed doesn’t even creak. 

Right on schedule, you shove open your window and pop out the screen, tossing it onto your bare mattress. You slide the sheet-rope out of the house and down the siding. You stare at it as it hits the ground; you did it. You’re getting out. You take a deep breath and take one last look at your bedroom before tossing a leg out of the window. You grip onto the rope and slowly start to slide and shimmy down and out of the house. You take your time, being careful to stay quiet and not alert Sabrael of your escape. Finally, you make it to the ground. You let go of the rope and, without wasting any time, you bolt from the house. 

You sprint down the cracked sidewalk of your so-called neighborhood, going as fast as you can in your attempt to find signs of human life. The first thing you see is a small red car. It’s heading in your direction.

You frantically wave your arms above your head, moving yourself to the side of the road before starting to jump to get the driver’s attention. They pull to the side and roll their window down; she’s a young adult, maybe around your age, with long, black hair and soft bangs that are pulled up and clipped away from her face.

“I need help,” you choke out, gasping for breath from your run. “Someone kidnapped me and-”

“Get in,” she tells you. You do as you’re told, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling in as she pulls back onto the road. “So, what’s wrong?”

“I was kidnapped a few months ago,” you begin, teary eyed and grateful for your savior. This woman was truly an angel. “Some freak was stalking me and has been keeping me locked up in my house. I finally escaped tonight.”

“How awful,” she sympathizes, rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”

“Thank you, again,” you say, leaning back into the seat as your adrenaline melts into a nearly unbearable ache. Your muscles are sore and your stomach is in knots. You’re free, sure, but what will keep Sabrael from coming after you again? “Could you take me to the police department?”

“Of course,” the stranger tells you.

As she drives, your panic and fatigue start to melt away. You did it. You got out. You’re getting help. Sure, Sabrael was still a threat, but maybe if you found someone who knows more about angels, you could work with them to find a more permanent solution to the issue…

She pulls you from your spiral with a gentle nudge. “What was your name?”

“_________.”

“How lovely,” she smiles, glancing over to you with warm, kind eyes. You’re sure you could get lost in them if you had the time. “I’m Emily.”

She continues driving, navigating her way to the nearest police station. She carefully pulls into the parking lot and parks her car near the doors.

You rip the seatbelt off of you and nearly kick the door open. “Thank you again, Emily,” you say, new tears forming as you look back to your savior with utter admiration. “You’ve saved my life.”

All she does is smile. You race to the police station doors. You grip onto the handles and push… and then pull… and then try both all over again. They’re locked. The lights inside are on, indicating that the station should be open. The vinyl letters posted on either side of the door say that the station should be operating 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You ball up your hands into fists and bang on the glass, screaming and wailing. “I need help! Please! Someone let me in!”

No one comes to greet you.

You turn around; luckily, Emily is still in the parking lot. You return to her car, opening the passenger side door and climbing in to talk to her again. “The postings say that the station is open 24/7… The lights are on, but no one is inside. Do you know of any other stations? Maybe we should try the fire department?”

“Did you think it’d be this easy?” Emily asks. She stares straight ahead, her hands shaking with the intensity of her grip on the steering wheel.

You look at her, shocked. “What do you mean-”

She turns to look at you. Her once brown eyes are now glowing bright gold. It’s a distinctive color, one you’ll never forget. You choke back the need to vomit as fear consumes you. You didn’t escape. Sabrael’s in the car with you.

They smile at you from their disguise, knowing you’ve figured them out. Emily disappears before your eyes as they slowly phase back to their normal appearance. They drum their fingers along the steering wheel and the lights within the police station suddenly flick off.

“You’re stupider than I realized,” they tell you. More and more of your surroundings disappear, merging and blending into a familiar landscape. After a swirl of expansion and the disappearance of some concrete, you find yourself back in your driveway. “You haven’t been in your own world in quite a while… Not since that disgusting demon tried to take you away from me.” None of this was real. “Did you really think you could escape me this easily?”

You close your eyes and cover them with your hands, beginning to silently cry. You were stupid. Stupid for thinking you could get away. Stupid for thinking the perfect stranger would pick you up so easily. Stupid for thinking that the police could help you with a problem like Sabrael.

Sabrael rubs and pats your head like a dog, hushing you as you begin to audibly wail. As you sob, they exit the car and come around to the passenger side, pulling you out and escorting you inside. “Let’s get you back to bed,” they calmly say, helping you up the stairs and back to your room. Inside, the room is restored; the only thing missing is the window. Sabrael helps you into bed. You’re still a crying mess as they pull the covers up over your body and gently kiss your forehead. “Goodnight, _______.” 

As they exit your room, they look back to you with a wrathful gaze. “Don’t make me tell you again.” You stay in bed and cry yourself to sleep.

[lovesick-yanderes]

Sabrael Character Bio | 2090 words

TWs: Stalking, kidnapping, manipulation/gaslighting

Note: I used prompts from a now deleted blog titled drink-it-write-it multiple times in this story. I would link the blog as well as the posts I used, but I am unable to do so.

-

You’ve felt off lately.

Well, not you. The atmosphere. Something has been making your skin crawl and your body shiver for the past few weeks, and you’ve been wracking your brain to figure out what it might be.

You’re by yourself most of the time. You work from home, where you live alone, with not even an animal companion to keep you company. The houses next door, bought up cheap for rentals, remain empty after months of advertisements. Across the street is a highway, leaving you with no neighbors and only a small amount of pedestrian traffic to cast your suspicion onto.

To address the paranoia, you start keeping all of your blinds shut. It evolves into ordering curtains to fully cover the windows, and then hanging blankets to block any and all gaps you might have missed. It doesn’t help.

You stop taking phone calls at home and keep all of your communication contained to emails and text messages; while this seems to make you feel more secure for a day or so, the paranoia comes back in full force yet again, leaving you jumpy.

One day, you head out of the house to do your biweekly grocery shopping trip. A 10 minute drive to the grocery store offers you a chance at socialization and a feeling of safety. Grateful to be out of the house, you take your time shopping. You browse the aisles slowly, making sure you’re getting the best deal on your items and even substituting a few things for cheaper versions on sale. While crossing through the automotive section to get to the home goods, a particular sale sign catches your eye.

On an otherwise empty rack sits a black pepper spray canister. The sale sign labels them at 40% off, a complete steal. Your heart skips a beat as you remember how paranoid you’ve been. Without thinking, you throw the last package into your cart and continue on to the home goods.

After finishing your shopping, you check out, pay, and load your bags into the trunk of your car. Before pulling out of your parking space, you rip open the pepper spray and secure it to your keychain, giving you instant, immediate access to your only form of defense. You clutch it tightly in your hand, familiarizing yourself with the weapon and its trigger, before letting it go slack on the keychain and then driving back home.

Pulling into the driveway sends a wave of nausea throughout your entire body, causing you to groan. You put the car into park and step out, heading to your trunk to start the process of bringing your things inside. You reach for the heaviest items first- laundry detergent, milk, and vinegar- and then proceed to drop them all when you turn your body and see a stranger smiling in front of you. You scream and stumble back, nearly falling but saving yourself by grabbing onto the car.

“Need some help?” The stranger asks, remaining cool and calm.

“Fuck off,” you stutter, taking a few more steps back.

They smile. “Your groceries look heavy. Let me help you with them.”

“No,” you firmly tell them, reaching up to shut the trunk, nearly crushing their hand. “Fuck off.”

They frown and turn their sights on you, walking slowly to close the gap between your bodies. You gasp and turn to run, trying to get back into the driver’s seat so you can get away from them. You fumble for your keys, which are currently absent from your pocket- a short glance into the car reveals them sitting in the seat. You also notice that your doors have been locked. God damn it. You circle the car again, trying to keep space between you and your unwelcome guest, keeping your eyes on them while your hands fumble between your bag and pockets. You grip onto the pepper spray you’d just purchased and hold it up, parallel to your chest, facing the stranger and standing your ground. They stop.

“How long have you been stalking me?” You spit out, your grip on the pepper spray shaky.

“I prefer the phrase “watching over you,” my love,” they say, continuing their slow approach of you, unphased by the black cylinder being aimed at them. Your heart, already beating erratically, shifts into overdrive as they get closer and closer. The confirmation that you have been being watched this entire time makes you want to curl up and sob right on the spot, but you hold strong to keep yourself safe.

“I’m warning you one last time,” you cry, your finger on the canister’s trigger. You’re starting to hyperventilate. The lack of oxygen and the adrenaline high leaves you feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

“I wouldn’t do that, darling,” they gently instruct you.

Darling? That’s it. You press the trigger and immediately reel back in pain as pepper spray goes into your eyes, nose, and mouth, sending burning pain all throughout your body. You scream and fall back, dropping your one form of self defense as you bring your hands to your face, desperate to wipe the spray from your eyes and nose. Your attempts at clearing it from your skin make its effects worse.

As you wheeze and sob, you hear the stranger quietly chuckle at your state. “I warned you, you know.”

Suddenly, everything stops. There is no more pain; no more noise, either. The constant drone of cars speeding on the highway is completely absent. You’re swimming in a black void, completely detached from reality. When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you’re sitting in a plush armchair in a room that is disturbingly beige. You leap to your feet, holding a tense position as you scan the room. You’re alone.

The room is small, about the size of a college dorm, with what appears to be a full-sized bed, a tall dresser, and two sets of doors on opposite sides of the room. A small TV sits on top of the dresser and a white yoga mat is rolled and leaning against the bed frame. You walk to the doors and try opening each of them; the one closest to your bed leads to an equally beige bathroom, stocked with self care supplies like a brush, soap, and toothpaste. Much to your dismay, the other door is locked. You sink down to the floor next to the yoga mat, trying to piece together where you are and what exactly happened to you.You’re alone with your own thoughts for about ten minutes before the door knob begins to rattle. You jump at the sudden appearance of noise and then clench your fists together, trying to keep a facade of braveness. The stranger from earlier slowly pops open the door and smiles down at you before entering and shutting the door behind them.

“I see you’re awake. You seem much more calm now… I’m glad.”

You waste no time with pleasantries. “Who are you?”

They smile down at you. “My name is Sabrael. I’m your guardian angel,” they say, sitting down on the floor with you to stay on your level. You watch as they descend, fixated on their eyes, which glow brightly, the color of solid gold. “I noticed you were having a hard time taking care of yourself… I figured it was about time someone stepped in.”

You scowl at them. “I’ve been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember. I don’t need help from anyone, especially someone who’s been stalking me and who just kidnapped me.”

They hum in acknowledgement of your words, but don’t directly respond to them. “What would you like to eat today? I know that humans crave variety in their diet, so I decided against making you something you might not be in the mood for.”

“I’m not hungry. Let me go.”

They ignore you again. “Perhaps you’d like to exercise, then. The yoga mat you’re sitting next to is one of many options I have available for you to choose from.”

You feel your anger rising. “I’m not working out,” you spit. “Let me go.”

“I see… Perhaps you’re a little overwhelmed from your sudden change in environment… Would you like to watch a movie to relax? The TV is set up with-”

“I want to go home, God damn it!” You shout at them. Sobs wrack your body after the outburst. Sabrael reaches to caress your face, trying to calm you, but you roughly slap their hand away, aggressively shouting at them for trying to touch you.

The atmosphere of the room changes instantly. Through your bleary eyes, you watch as Sabrael’s expression morphs from kind and caring to cold and angry.

“This is how you treat me after everything I’ve done for you?” They ask, venom dripping from every word. They stand up and loom over you, looking down at your frightened figure. You hug yourself tight for security, a new set of tears quickly streaming down your face. You sit in silence for a moment before they speak again. “I’ve spent months learning about you and humans in general… I created this nice little home just for you, fit with everything you need to live a happy and enriched life… I tried to comfort you during an emotional outburst and you attacked me.” They shake their head at you, sending a message of dissatisfaction and disappointment. “If this is how you treat others, it’s no wonder you’ve been so alone in the human realm.”

Anger boils over, ridding the fear from your body. “You kidnapped me,” you choke out, your words hoarse from the wailing. “You fucking kidnapped me, and you expect me to be nice to you?”

“I did that because I was trying to help you,” they reply, glaring down at you. “I see now that you’re not open to logic.” They reach down and grip your head, covering your eyes with their hand. “We’ll try something else.” Before you can react and try to slap them away, you’re sent back to the same black void you were swimming in before.

You come back to reality again in your own bed, in your own home. You sit up abruptly, scanning your surroundings… You’re alone. At home. It all must have been a dream. A fucked up, horrible nightmare of a dream, but nevertheless fabricated. You get out of bed and take a long, hot shower, dedicated to decompressing after such a stressful dream. After getting out and changing into lounge wear, you head to the kitchen to find something to eat.

When you enter, Sabrael is sitting at the table, smiling at you as two plates of breakfast sit idly, as if they’ve been waiting for you to join them all morning. They motion to the chair across from them. Without a fight, you numbly walk to it, plopping down and staring at the meal. Thousands of thoughts race through your brain. You’d just spent so long convincing yourself that it wasn’t real, that you weren’t being stalked and that you hadn’t been kidnapped, that it was all just a nightmare induced by the paranoia you’ve been experiencing for weeks on end…

“The stress you experienced last night was not anticipated,” Sabrael says, catching your attention from your anxious thoughts. “I now know that humans need time to adjust to new circumstances. We’ll begin this relationship in your home, and move on when you’re more adjusted.”

“Relationship?” You question, raising your brows in complete confusion.

“I’m your guardian angel,” they reiterate. “I exist to take care of you. I am yours, and by extension, you are mine.” They pause to smile, a giddy expression overtaking their face. “We’ll stay in your home for now, so you can learn how our dynamic will function in a place where you feel secure. When the proper time comes, we will depart back to the home I created for you.”

You sit in shock, bile rising in your throat as you process what they’re telling you. When it finally clicks that this isn’t something you’re going to be able to get out of, you set your head on the table and begin to cry. You don’t have the energy or the fortitude to continue to scream and fight. You’ve accepted that you’re stuck, and that nothing you or anyone else can do will save you from this creature. Fuck. You feel Sabrael’s hand gently rubbing your back. They quietly hush you as you continue to sob, completely defeated.

[lovesick-yanderes]

Sabrael Character Bio

TWs: general yandere behavior, mild gore

“Doctor, did he make it?”

“No, Ma’am… I’m afraid he didn’t.”

The woman on the TV screen bursts into tears, falling to the ground and sobbing. The doctor leans down to her and presents a white box. “He wanted you to have this.”

Confused, the woman opens it. The view changes to a low budget shot of the inside of the box, which holds a poorly made replica of a human heart. The woman who received the box screams before it cuts back to the doctor.

“You don’t have to give her your heart this Valentine’s Day… a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates from Maggie’s Market will do perfectly!” The woman on the TV announces, ripping off the white coat she was wearing to reveal a supermarket uniform. You roll your eyes and sigh. Low budget, poorly made commercials had always had a grip on your local broadcast area, but they were starting to get ridiculous. Sabrael, perched next to you on the couch, cocks their head to the side and hums in thought.

“What?” You ask them, clicking the TV off with the remote. 

“Humans give each other their hearts?”

You roll your eyes again. “It’s more of a metaphorical thing…but yeah. Giving someone your heart is a way to tell them you love them. It’s just a cheesy Valentine’s day commercial. Don’t think too hard about it.”

This explanation seems to satisfy them, because they ask no more questions. You continue on with your day, walking away from the TV. You slowly work through a list of household chores while Sabrael watches your every move, studying you like a lab rat while you clean. At the end of the day, Sabrael tells you goodnight and you retire to your bedroom, your only place of solace within your own home. You toss and turn all night, getting minimal sleep as you spiral over your thoughts. You’re still hellbent on trying to find a way out of your predicament; while you aren’t successful in creating an escape plan tonight, you know you’ll ethink of something soon.

After a long night of tossing and turning, you give up on sleep and head to the kitchen for breakfast at 6 AM. Sabrael sits at the table as they usually do, waiting for your period of rest to be over so they can “play” with you for the rest of the day. 

“Good morning, ______,” they say, greeting you with a big smile. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes again. “You too, Sabrael,” you mumble, walking towards the cabinet you keep breakfast foods in. After preparing yourself a large bowl of your favorite cereal, you turn around to see Sabrael standing before you, holding a white box.

“I got you a gift.”

You resist the urge to knock the box out of their hands and stomp it into the floor. You know better by now. “Thank you,” you spit, taking the box in your open hand. You walk to the table, where you set down both your cereal and the gift. Sabrael watches you intently. Your stomach growls and you reach for your spoon; you see their expression shift ever so slightly and, not wanting to piss them off this early in the morning, you pick up the box instead. You see them smile out of the corner of your eye. Good choice, you think.

You pull the red ribbon off the top of the box, and then the lid. Inside the box is a dark, foul smelling piece of meat you very quickly realize to be a heart. You feel your world start to shake as the sight makes you lightheaded and queasy. Your hunger is replaced by nausea. You swallow hard before looking up at Sabrael, who beams down at you with pure joy.

“I don’t have a human heart to give you… but I hope this makes up for it.”

[lovesick-yanderes]

Imagine asking Sabrael if their true form is one of those “biblically accurate angels” meme pictures🚶

Sabrael Character Bio | 108 words

TWs: NSFW (light)

They’d find it very sweet of you to ask about them, but wouldn’t understand the meme. Even if you explained it, it wouldn’t really make sense to them- regardless, they’d laugh at your human antics.

In reality, their “true form” is simply a small ball of light that has no communication skills. Learning how to speak was difficult for them, which is part of the reason it took them so long to finally make contact with you after watching over you for months. They do have the ability to shapeshift into any form they want, though, so you could easily get them to help you recreate this meme.

[lovesick-yanderes]

Guardian Angel Yandere

Sabrael | "25″ | they/them

manipulative yandere

6′1 - tall & thin - black hair, golden eyes

They’ve been watching over you for months now. Why do you keep getting into trouble? You must need some face-to-face guidance...

Picrew Credit: Sue_mico