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kit-williams · 18 days

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Azazel rework: Sick Thoughts

The dreaded Azazel rework this is also probably going to be a multiple part thing for him. Azazel was one of the first boys I wrote about and compared to the others his was the weakest and also personality wise he was lacking. I had felt no real love for him Sooooooo he got an update. With a much better personality that will actually allow him to stand up with the rest of the boys and make him a unique yandere/character.

Tag List: @thevoidscreams @barn-anon @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty

@bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

Dramatis Personae

Dark Angel Chaplain Azazel Erros (Ah-zay-zell is how I pronounce it)

Imperial Guardswoman: Lilith "Puppy" Morningstar - long raven hair, olive skin tone (think Italy or Spain), bright Hazel eyes, athletic build but still feminine, hair is kept in a military style bun.

Azazel Erros sat in the back of the tank, right by the rear door, ready for any ill fate that would befall him and his temporary companions. His eyes scanned the bodies in the back... the way they all pressed up against each other like rabbits in a warren to keep warmth and he was a fox that had managed to squeeze himself in there... it reminded him of an old tale his mother had told him of anthropomorphized animals overcoming their nature to be better. Regardless they had picked up Azazel not long after he had given his dead brothers their last rites.

He remembers the way the tank rolled up and it was her voice and her shy temping smile that greeted his eyes out from under that flak helmet. They too had met an ill fate like he and his battle brothers had... their transport having been shot down and this small group was the survivors fighting their way back to the front, like good mortal troops.

His enhanced eyes focused on the movement in the corner as they called her a puppy but he saw through her guise of being a snake. He watched her rifle through the bag that they found in the middle of nowhere, full of useless expensive baubles, hardly worth a second look in his opinion. However, he watched how her the green in her hazel eyes glittered in the sunlight as she claimed ownership over what no one else wanted.

Azazel saw the smiles on their lips as she looked so happy at her spoils. But now he was watching her tucked away by the tank shells in her claimed dark space in the womb of the tank... he watched her face light up by a weak light. The small bit of light allowed his eyes to see the color of her face and other small details with his enhanced sight, she looked around like a sinner in church making sure no one was bothered by her light... and then the small giddy smile that graced her lips and the way the light danced in the green flecks of her brown eyes.

Frivolous nonsense, he thought as she made faces in the small mirror and preened at her appearance. It reminded him of the few unfortunate run-ins he had with the nobility... always fawning over themselves. Azazel should have returned to a meditative prayer but his eyes focused in on the small tube of lip paint... it was a ripe red color... it reminded him of a fruit and it made his tongue move in anticipation at the juice of it meeting his own. He watched Puppy apply it precisely to her bottom lip in the trundling vehicle. Azazel watched as she pulled her lips in, over her teeth, rubbing her lips together... he heard the soft pop of her lips parting. The soft smile on her lips as she now had the lip paint on her top lip.

Azazel felt his breathing hitch for a moment... the breath tightening in his chest... he was holding it in... as his eyes locked onto how full her red lips looked. How she was unaware of his voyeuristic watching, him a Dark Angel's Chaplain, the way she pursed them and touched up a spot to make sure her upper lip was the same red as her bottom. She turned her head from side to side, continuing to purse her lips occasionally, as he could tell she was enamored with the red of her lips.

Azazel tried to let out the breath he was holding as she grabbed one of the artillery shells and his mouth opened slightly, hidden by the skull mask of his helm, as she kissed the cold metal making an audile muwah noise... no doubt leaving behind a red colored impression of her lips on the metal. His mind drifts back to one of those unfortunate moments he had to meet nobility... the way the man had those same sorts of impressions upon his skin and clothes and the scent of an unknown female. The amorous evidence of lustful inhibitions... he watches her smile at her work as she puts the shell back. Azazel is certain that the red of her lip paint would leave a mark on his skin... leaving a trail of them behind on his flesh... as her mouth trails down his body... leaving her marks.

Azazel blinks and softly grunts and moves slightly as he breaks himself out of these thoughts. He ignored the discomfort between his legs... banishing her from his thoughts though failing as his eyes looked over to her and could see how she looked over at him, the small light closed up, with a guilty look on her face... like a sinner. The look that tells him that she acts as if she did something wrong... something she wasn't allowed to do.

She waits watching him with those big eyes of hers like some small cat hiding in the dark. She soon pulls out the light again and returns to preening herself in her dark corner and Azazel licks his teeth as he watches. He watches her adjust how she sits... how she curves her spine in a posture he only knows being called "sitting pretty". He remembers hearing guardsmen talk about the harlots seeking their thrones. He remembers watching how they would advertise themselves without saying a word to the men... pure body language between the two parties so that no one was "soliciting" and no one was being "solicited" out in the open anyway. He wasn't uneducated at why he wanted to have her nor how he wanted to have her... he most certainly wanted her to sit like that in his lap and feel what she was causing. Would the little temptress play coy? Feigning her innocence and trying to act all puppy-like? He bit his bottom lip as he focused on how she brushed something powdery on her cheekbones.

She batted her lashes at herself in her small mirror but for Azazel, it could have easily been to him... he was waiting for her signature wink to him whenever she was attempting to flirt with him. He wasn't dumb to her attempts as she would try and his reply was to ignore her or if she was unlucky she would be reprimanded by her superior and would return to her professional demeanor. But, oh! How he could tell she was trying to coil around him... unable to stop herself from making such overly flirtatious advances. I'm sorry about Puppy... she's overly friendly... Her superior had told him in private after one of her attempts had fallen flat. She was too sweet for her own good... getting too familiar with others too quickly... she was clearly a risk... and Azazel knew what dangers she was unknowingly courting.

"Why are you here?" Azazel remembers asking her when they had finally gotten a moment alone together... those moments were few and thankfully regretfully far between Her hazel eyes looked over at him as he watched her throat bob as she drank from her canteen.

"My Lord?" She looked up at him and he could hear the simple accent she did her best to hide, but her eyes spoke of confusion and he watched her lick her lips nervously when he did not reply, "To serve the Imperium." It was at that moment that Azazel was thankful that guard uniforms turned the wearer into an androgynous blob of pockets and flak armor plates.

"You are unlike many I've worked with." He probes gently knowing he doesn't have to push too hard to get her to say something she shouldn't.

"Oh." She said in a way that Azazel couldn't read if it was disappointment or surprise but either way, he still got what he wanted when she opened her mouth again, "Well it was this or sex work." She says with a shrug as she gives him a harlot's grin at her confession to the Chaplain. Oh how often she bit her tongue wanting to add more like the harlot she was... unable to keep quiet for her own good and always eager to gossip confess to an ear willing to listen and give her attention beyond asking what her prices were. However, those cheeky comments always involved some sort of implication of her willing to try and bed him... to be a sort of relief.

He exhaled hard within his helm as he knew how if he was younger, long before he was a Brother Chaplain, he would have and at times did jump at such opportunities. Tasting and partaking in some sins firsthand... and he used the knowledge he gained when he repented and became a Brother Chaplain. Yes, his younger and wilder ways had been repented for... that was before he met her... he had been free of temptation for so long! But again... when this Puppy smiled at him and let her flirtatious tongue waggle at him. Azazel was frustrated at the fact that he was suddenly feeling such a stirring in his loins by her. Other women of higher station had equally been as stupidly bold as her but it was only her that was getting such a reaction from him!

Even though his eyes were closed for those moments lost in memory to ignore his desire and to try and reign his mind back in to continue to focus on prayers. It was his preternatural senses that told him that someone was in his space. His eye lenses were dark so it wasn't a stretch for them to mistake it as him sleeping. When his eyes opened he could see her right there. He watched the way her eyes darted over his faceplate... as she was leaning in to see under his hood.

The brief panic in her eyes as a hard jolt nearly makes her lose her footing and send her crashing into his lap... but unfortunately she recovers. He hears her soft exhale of relief, his smile on his lips as it's unfortunate how he watched her make a fool of herself all the same. She crouches beside him hugging her knees as she looks over his rosarius beads and other visible trinkets tied to him... I could kill her... he thinks to himself... be rid of these wicked temptations from this snake. But, lo! How being so close... he could see how her lips were painted such a deep red color... like the skin of an apple.

His throat felt tight as he suddenly desired her to be foolishly brave. To watch her climb into his lap and leave a deep red mark upon his armor... or perhaps she would be bold enough to leave such a mark on the off-white cloth of his hood... batting her eyelashes and feigning how it got there... or maybe she would save them the scandal of their dalliance being exposed by hiding it in the hollow of his throat. How he stared at her eyes staring up at him as once again she was looking at his faceplate... kneeling beside him... his discomfort had yet to go away... would she be lurid enough to leave markings smeared across the skin of his stomach and smeared around his-

Azazel bit back a frustrated noise as he forcibly stopped those thoughts as she walked away and he could no longer see her plump bottom lip. Azazel would need to, at the very least, require the attention of a serf when he returned to the rest of his brothers. Being away from her should be enough to fix it...

He tries not to think about the next morning during their morning meal the spots of lipstick she had missed wiping off... and the faded blush on her cheeks... he tries not to think about her pressing a kiss... to the hollow of his throat like a wilting maiden... he hardly notices the way she starts to eat up his thoughts... God Emperor help him.

#warhammer 40k #yandere space marine #yandere #yandere dark angel #dark angel #dark angel chaplain #space marines #oc: azazel #oh boy religious trauma if you're in the know #redebut

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not-sure-what-im-feeling · 5 months

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To be Hated

The Ivory Isle writing snippet, taking place after the events of the main storyline. You don’t need to know that much, I just wanted to share the writing.

Content warnings for it:

Suicidal thoughts, wanting to be hated, depression, like lots of depression, food, self hatred

Word count:

2045 words

Axel sighed as he paced around the outskirts of the forest outside their base. Danner and Azazel had taken shelter in an abandoned cabin when they first got to Safehaven, and took the others in with them when they got there. He just couldn’t handle being inside longer than he needed to. He hated the way he crept about the old wooden building, trying not to make them uncomfortable by him just being there. Not that that did anything, of course, seeing as a hush fell over everyone whenever he entered a room. The only one who didn’t react like that was Danner. Axel still couldn’t understand why none of them hated him. Well, Maia might have, but not as much as she used to.

Maybe he wanted them to hate him. Maybe it would be easier. More comfortable to know that they at least felt something other than just uncomfortable around him. Maybe he wanted them to hate him the way he hated himself. He finally wore himself out from his pacing, sitting down against a nearby tree as he shut his eyes, trying to block the cabin from his vision.

Axel wasn’t alone long, as Danner walked over to him — he didn’t catch from where, only opening his eyes when he realized that Danner walked to him. Danner was holding two bowls of stew, and sat beside Axel, silently handing him one of the bowls. Axel took it, mumbling a “thank you,” but didn’t eat anything just yet. Danner nodded to him, trying to assure him that it was fine.

“Come on… Rene’s cooking isn’t that bad, is it?” Ah, so that’s who made it. Axel didn’t hang around too long with the others, so he couldn’t be sure much of the inner workings of that necromancer.

“Oh, no, sorry, I just— I’m not hungry.” Axel wondered what the person he once was would have thought of the way he said that. It was nowhere even close to a frame of strength or confidence, though he wasn’t sure if he ever had that. But now he was downright pitiful.

“Axel. You haven’t eaten anything today, I know it. I’m supposed to be helping you get better, and I can’t help with that if you refuse to eat.” Danner sounded oddly stern, yet Axel knew it was because he cared. He shouldn’t have. Really.

“You don’t have to help me,” Axel mumbled, “I would’ve been better off if you guys had let me die anyway…”

“No, Axel, don’t say that. We couldn’t just leave you to die. You’re a person, you—”

“And why not?! Everyone hates me anyway! And they should! All I’ve done is hurt you guys, and yet you still- you still-” Axel’s voice wavered, and a few tears fell. He realized that he was holding the wooden bowl in his hands tightly, and that through his emotions clouding everything else — something his teachers would have hounded him on in the past — some of the stew fell onto his trousers and the ground.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, Danner…” Axel sounded scared, and he set down the bowl quickly, only resulting in more stew to spill and a small wince from him.

“Don’t be. Axel… no one hates you. You don’t deserve to be hated. Trust me. I care about you, at least. Az certainly doesn’t hate you, because I don’t. Rene and Percy don’t like you, yeah, but they don’t hate you. Maia is, well, Maia, and Chord—”

“What about Andre,” Axel’s voice wasn’t strong, per se, but it was more confident than it had been this entire interaction, and Danner wasn’t exactly being comforting, though Axel knew he was trying. “He has to hate me, right?”

“Axel… I don’t know if I’m the one who needs to talk to you about this. Do— do you want to talk to Andreas himself?”

Axel stayed silent. He didn’t know if he did want to. The gods knew he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

“I’ll… I‘ll go to Andreas after dinner,” He mumbled, before picking up the bowl of stew and starting to eat.

Danner merely nodded to him, but that was enough. Axel didn’t actually mind having Danner nearby. It was good to know that someone tolerated him. And at least Danner didn’t look ready to fight when Axel entered a room. Not that Axel could blame anyone — he knew what he did.

They sat together, silently eating the stew as the sky turned to hues of bloody red and soft pink, the sun beginning to dip beneath the horizon. After a while, just as purples and indigos were starting to colour the canvas of clouds and air, and the specks of stars had begun to pierce it, Danner looked over to Axel’s empty bowl, taking it and his own back to the cabin.

“Now go talk to Andreas!” He called out behind him.

As if it were that easy.

No matter, Axel had said he would do it, and he didn’t want to make a liar of himself. He wasn’t sure if he could handle Danner not liking him anymore. The one person who tolerated his existence.

Axel got up reluctantly, deciding to check the cabin first. He wasn’t sure what the others were doing in there all the time, seeing as no one other than Danner would talk to him, and Axel would get away whenever he could. When he got inside, he saw Danner and Azazel in the kitchen, talking while Danner cleaned the dishes from supper.

“I’m just saying, are you sure we can trust him?” Azazel’s tail swished nervously as he spoke, neither of the two noticing the figure at the entry.

“I’m not sure, but I’m not going to let him be alone. I don’t think he could take it. He needs someone, Az. I promise that I won’t get hurt.” Danner was insistent, and Axel decided to leave before he regretted it, not wanting to have the conversation he was about to but not wanting to eavesdrop on the one he just was.

When he looked back at the coats on the wall by the door, Persephone’s was missing. She was probably off doing whatever stuff she got up to — Axel didn’t have an inkling of an idea of what she was interested in.

He kept quietly making his way through the house, footsteps soft as he tried not to startle anyone. When Axel reached the stairs, he hesitated. He could still turn back. No one would know. No. Danner would know. And Axel wouldn’t disappoint him like that. And Axel would know. Knowing him, the fact that he turned from something that scared him — just because he was nervous! — would follow him around forever.

Disregarding his shaking hands and legs, and the way his stomach fluttered two steps behind him, he walked up the stairs. He winced each time they creaked, and mentally scolded himself for his pathetic behaviour. He sighed a breath of relief when he got up the steps, and went to the makeshift boarding room. Once there, he saw Andreas, yes, but also Chord. They weren’t talking, but it was clear that Axel was an intrusion on their moment. The two moved from the way they were leaning against one another, but their fingers remained laced together.

Axel couldn’t help but notice the way both of them tensed at Axel just being there.

“Er- Andreas,” Axel grimaced at the use of Andreas’s full name, but pressed forward. “I was wondering if I could talk to you?” Oh, he hated the way his voice sounded so weak. He was nothing like the soldier he used to be. The part of him that still was that stronger self was yelling at him, berating him for his very existence.

Chord’s hand held Andreas' tighter, but Andreas looked up at Chord. They had a moment of nonverbal communication, a language that Axel was too disconnected from to speak, before Andreas looked back over to Axel, who had been standing awkwardly the entire time.

Andreas gave a small nod. “What is it?” His voice was wary, yet understanding as ever.

Axel hesitated. “I- well, I wanted to talk alone.” He looked to Chord to see how he might react to that.

Chord seemed even more wary and cautious than Andreas, and Axel winced at the reason why. It wasn’t like he had ever been anything but horrid to Chord.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah, alright then…” Andreas started, before noting Chord’s expression. “Chord. I’ll be fine.” He looked back to Axel, and repeated, “I’ll be fine.”

Andreas stood up, letting go of Chord’s hand. Chord’s feathered ears folded back slightly, similar to the way Axel’s eyebrows would crease whenever Andreas— No. No, he wasn’t going to think about that. It would only make everything worse. More… awkward. Well, more than it already was.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Andreas said to Chord, before looking over at Axel and walking out of the boarding room.

Axel followed Andreas silently, as he was most of the time now. Once the two were outside, Andreas barely walked away from the cabin before turning to Axel with his arms crossed.

“So? What did you want to talk about?” Axel hated how crass Andreas sounded.

He hesitated to tell Andreas. He knew he would find it difficult, but now that he was about to talk about it, it felt so insignificant. Like it was going to just be an inconvenience for Andreas. He took a deep breath before beginning. “I was wondering… Do- do you hate me?”

Andreas looked up at him, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. “Axel, I- I don’t think I could ever hate you. I’m upset. I’m angry. But… I don’t hate you.” He sounded absolutely incredulous, as if the very notion of Axel mentioning such a thing was absurd.

“Why not?!” Axel’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he once again mentally berated himself for such strong emotion. “Why don’t you? I have given you every reason to hate me, yet here you are!”

Andreas took a step back, increasing the already almost far distance. “Axel. I don’t hate you because I cared so much about you. I can’t hate y—“

“You should! I hate knowing that even a small part of you still cares! I have done nothing but hurt you, hurt Chord, hurt everyone, and yet you try to forgive me?! I can’t even forgive myself… Why won’t you just hate me?”

Axel couldn’t stop the tears beginning to fall, not that he even cared anymore. Oh, he would beat himself up about it later, but he barely even noticed the blurry vision, the heat of the salty tears against his cheeks, the quietest sound of a sploosh as they hit the ground — a sound that would be lost if not for the sheer silence before Andreas spoke again.

“Axel.” He was standing by Axel, right by him, his hand on his shoulder. “I don’t. I can’t and will not hate you. I’ve moved on, but that doesn’t change everything in our past. You can’t make me hate you. Please don’t hate yourself.”

“It’s not that easy,” Axel said, his sobs rendering his voice cracked and quiet, “It’s not that easy, Andre. I wish it could be.”

Andreas wiped Axel’s tears from his face and sighed, “I know. It never will be. But you need to learn. It’s going to take time, but I believe you can do it.” He paused. “I loved you,” He said, before he walked back into the cabin.

Axel collapsed onto the ground, sobbing more. He shook as Andreas’ words rang through his mind.

“I loved you, I loved you, I loved you.”

When he finally calmed down enough to go back inside, though he felt like a thin piece of glass about to shatter, the clock in the entrance read 23:00. He tried to walk up the stairs as quietly as possible, but the creaks that always were there seemed so much louder in the darkness and silence. He got to the boarding room, and collapsed onto his cot as quietly as he could. His sleep couldn’t come fast enough, and yet it was immediate.

If only the night lasted longer.

#oc: axel #oc: danner #oc: azazel #oc: Andreas #oc: chord #the ivory isle #my writing #writing #oc writing #oc snippet #the ivory isle writing #my ocs

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