Category: Darksiders I & II

Rating: M

Couples: Azrael/War

Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Debatable-Con (once), Lemon, Mpreg

Chapter: 3

Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me

Author's Note: Poll on my Profile, plz vote ;) Should I be worried about the desire of people to see more Angel-horror?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When they arrived at the Fortress War secretly admitted to himself that he felt almost disappointed when the angel let go of him. Seeing his siblings coming towards them on their own respective steeds, he yelled a warning. "Azrael found the roots!"

Death's face was unmoved, but Strife muttered darkly that perhaps people shouldn't complain about him.

"Why the Hell did you not stop him, War!?" The Gunner demanded, Fury nodding in agreement as Azrael just disappeared into the building.

"I tried! But according to him, we never ate it properly." War defended himself. He felt insulted that his siblings immediately ganged up on him.

"Leave War be, we'll see what the angel will create for us." Death stopped the others from retaliating, gesturing they should go about their assignments.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Many hours later, Death was the first to arrive back at the fortress. Nearing the kitchen-area, he noticed a very nice smell. But the moment he stepped into the room, the smell was all but forgotten. He blinked a couple times, wondering if perhaps he had taken a wrong turn somehow and ended up in a different fortress.

"Hello Death." Azrael was sitting on the table, one eye on a massive clay-structure to the side. "Want some tea?" He offered an empty cup to the Horseman and gestured with it to the kettle he had standing beside the fire-pit. "Hot though." He seemed more relaxed than the Horseman had seen him for days.

"What did you do?" Death demanded, looking at the changes in the room. There seemed to be cabinets on the far wall, then there was that weird clay-structure and what seemed to be a water-pump with bowl underneath near the table. He took the empty cup absentmindedly, not really noticing the angel filling it with hot liquid.

"These are some of the things I need for cooking." Azrael answered him. He sipped at his tea, briefly rising up to look into the clay-structure and poking into the lower hole. "I also took the liberty of arranging for a garden." He gestured to the window on his way back to the table.

Death looked out the window, staring at several of his ghouls and skeletons digging and racking. Perhaps he should not have told them to obey all residents of the fortress... "What..." He sat down in disbelief, wondering if they made a mistake in housing the angel. Unfocused he took off his mask and took a small sip from the cup, not sure what he was supposed to do.

"I figured I might as well save you all the trouble of having to escort me to a different realm whenever I cook." Azrael stated to snap the elder Nephilim out of his shock. He smiled gently, probably realizing exactly what went through Death's brain at that moment. "When will the others be back by the way? I think the food is nearly done." He gestured to the clay-structure, from where the smells were originating.

Death blinked a couple times while still looking from the garden to the kitchen. "Within half an hour, if they encounter no problems."

War arrived back home next, tired and hungry: he had encountered some creatures who didn't take kindly to him invading their territory. The moment he stepped into the fortress, he smelled something wonderful. Following the smell he went into the kitchen and much like his elder brother before him, he froze in surprise at seeing the changes in it.

"Food is nearly done." Azrael told him, getting another cup and offered it to him after filling it. "Unless you are starving, then I have some other things you can eat in the meantime."

"War is always starving. I guess there's a reason why he is now so tall." Death answered for War, calmly sipping his tea. Seeing his brother shoot him an annoyed look, Death airily told him. "You should try the tea, it's good."

War grumbled something under his breath and with a suspicious look at it he sipped on the hot beverage.

At that moment Azrael heard talking outside the kitchen. "Seems everyone is here." He procured two more cups, filling them as well before walking over to the structure. "Food's finished as well." He stated just as Fury and Strife entered.

Azrael pulled some truly gigantic plates from one of the cupboard and walked over to the clay-structure. "Strife, help me with this, will you?"

Rolling his eyes, Strife still joined the angel more or less obediently, looking a bit surprised at getting one of the plates dumped in his hands with what seemed to be a gigantic steaming fish with a weird crust on top.

War blinked at his food and hesitatingly he took a bite from the angel's creation. The moment the flavour hit his taste-buds, War stared in shock at the plate: never before he had tasted so much at once. He began to eat with gusto.

His siblings joined in soon after, much to the angel's amusement.

"Heh..." Strife snorted after a good while of only munching sounds filling the room. "I'd say that angels can at least cook."

War snorted at Strife's remark. "Nearly every living creature is a better cook than you. Even the Hellhounds won't touch your... creations." The youngest Rider stared a bit mournful at his empty plate. Turning to the angel he added. "Well, you did prove me wrong in regards to green-food. I'm lucky I didn't bet on it."

"I have to agree. Azrael, could you show me the herbs you used?" Death asked when he finished cleaning off his plate. No way he'd ever make just roasted meat after this.

"They're growing in the garden." The Archangel informed him, also finished with his food. "Though I hope you are not too full after this, I have some dessert too. Way too much time while waiting for the fish to finish."

All of them perked up in interest what, which almost made Azrael giggle at the eager faces of the four most feared creatures in all of Creation. He got up and walked over to a wooden panel on the ground that had not been there before, though Death had not at first noticed it when looking through their kitchen. Opening it, the foggy breath of ice rose up. "Children love this." The angel grinned, pulling up several bowls with what seemed to be solidified snow in various colours.

"Then you should give it to War, since he is the child here." Death stoically stated, earning himself another glare from his younger brother.

This time Fury did not hesitate as much, immediately trying a spoonful of the stuff. "COLD!" She shuddered.

"Brain-freeze?" Strife asked his sister sweetly.

Heeding Fury's misfortune, War took a careful scoop from the bowl. It was sweet and... delicious! The Red Rider did resist the urge to scarf it all down: he didn't want that painful cold sensation and he most assuredly didn't wanted to give Death any reason to call him a child again. Slowly he continued to empty the bowl.

"You know, War..." Fury spoke up after finishing her bowl at a more sedate pace. "I think you need to add a new rule for Azrael's stay here: cook every day."

The mystic blinked in surprise at that. Then again, he probably should have seen it coming.

War thought over his sister's proposal: Azrael was proving to be a great cook, he was creating a garden specifically for cooking – War saw the garden outside the window and recognized some of the plants the angel had gathered earlier that day. "It would not be a bad idea."

Azrael blinked a few times. "Well... I suppose I have nothing better to do anyway..." He muttered lightly.