Category: Darksiders I & II

Rating: M

Couples: Azrael/Abaddon, Zeruch(War)/OC

Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery

Chapter:37

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

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"Azrael?" Abaddon entered the room, looking mildly annoyed. "Why is Zeruch assigned to the Argent Spire for roughly the next decade? And how did you even do that when the regular schedules are only for a year at most!?"

"You damn well know why, Abaddon." The scholar looked up at his fellow parent, briefly putting aside the paperwork he had been working on. "What were you expecting to happen when I found out?"

"Found out what?" The General sat down on the edge of the desk. "He is a Wing Commander in the Hellguard now. What do you suggest do I do with his subordinates now that he apparently is non-existent?"

"Get his second-in-command to lead them."The mystic stated dryly. "And I am talking about his 'Flaming Meteorite'-move."

"Oh..." Abaddon muttered. He had been hoping that Azrael would not find out about that particular thing. Apparently, at some point their only child had figured out that he could use his stone and fire magics defensively, creating protective layers of these two elements over his skin. It had taken several of the other Generals even less time to suggest he combine them. In several battles Zeruch had used this combined protection of fire and stone to hurl himself down from up high into the fray like a... well, like a meteorite. The resulting impact and explosions usually decimated the enemy forces in the nearby vicinity.

"'Oh' indeed." The rune-winged angel answered softly. "I am not amused, Abaddon, I hope you realize that."

"In my defence, this time it wasn't me." Though the warrior would be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"If you were, you'd be a cat by now." His fellow parent gently chuckled.

"True." The other male chuckled as well at the memory. "Still, with all due respect, Azrael, you simply cannot steal him whenever you get upset about things. First of all, he's a couple millennia old by now, way beyond where you should be motherhenning him and secondly, he is a Wing Commander. There's quite literally a substantial part of the Hellguard depending on his leadership. I cannot take them out of rotation or something like that for a decade!"

"I know..." The other male sighed, reaching for a piece of paper. "Here are your real rosters... Though, can you just try to make him stop?"

"I'll try." Abaddon patted the other's shoulder.

"In revenge..." Azrael rested his hand on the armoured one on his shoulder. "Did you know that Zeruch is sending love-letters?"

"Really?" The other male smirked. "I assume you also know who? Some warrior, by chance?"

"Gabriel, actually." The scholar snorted at the other's face. "I did tell you how he was when he first met her."

"He was five." The General pointed out. "It's been several millennia since then. She has great grand-children his age! Please tell me she has no interest in him."

"She's conflicted, actually." The emerald-robed male chuckled. "Yes, he is the age of several great grand-children she has, but apparently his letters are quite lovely and thoughtful according to her. She thinks it quite flattering he's interested in her after all these years."

"Please tell me you are joking..."

Azrael was stopped from answering when someone stormed into his office.

"Uncle!" It was Zeruch, looking utterly terrified. "You need to send me somewhere far and long away, please!"

The two elder angels nearly floofed at his panicked voice.

"Why?" Abaddon demanded, letting go of Azrael.

"Naya'il has been signing my letters!" The young male rushed forward. "Please, you have to hide me!"

"Well... I have a post of Outpost Garrison-Commander that needs to be filled in Silverwall...?" The General actually backed away a bit when his son clung to his fur.

"Alright, I'm packing." Zeruch teleported away, forgetting to let go of the fur of his uncle and taking it along as he did so.

"That just happened?" Azrael snorted lightly. "Poor Zeruch."

Abaddon was quite close to laughter as well. "He let Naya'il copy his letters in her nicer handwriting without checking them after? He kind of deserved this."