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.
