[Azazel]
Standing by the door with his body leaning on its frame, he sighed as he regarded his newly refurbished office one last time.
The high, coffered ceiling adorned with intricate crown molding and vintage chandeliers; the wooden wainscoting; the fireplace with a carved mantel that is enchanted to keep the office warm all year long; and the antique furniture pieces that were actually enchanted for maximum comfort.
Contrasting these was the large, floor-to-ceiling windows with minimalist metal frames which let in ample natural light, highlighting the polished hardwood floors.
Then there were the modern art prints and abstract sculptures that provided pops of color and visual interest, along with his huge, stylish, and ergonomic desk made of glass and brushed steel, complementing the vintage/modern aesthetic.
'It's still not as good as Harry's,' he stubbornly thought as he shook his head. This was the tenth time he'd changed his office while trying to one-up Harry, and it still wasn't quite there yet.
You see, this whole office rivalry thing they had going on between them was a silly thing that started two years and some months ago, right after he met Harry face to face for the first time.
A few weeks after that meeting, actually, and boy, was that a memorable first meeting.
Yeah~ Seeing a boy no older than his adopted son erase someone from reality while acting like it's no big deal tends to leave a very lasting impression.
Still, the kid was alright in his book. Sure, he has very complicated feelings about Harry, but he could at least respect the kid's accomplishments.
And no, he didn't mean his magical ones, grand as they may be; he meant his intimate ones. Getting Yasaka—one of the top five beauties in the world—as his partner was something worthy of respect and praise.
Especially since he knew how hard it is to actually achieve such a thing… Being a connoisseur of beauty means he has to try—sometimes more than once—to get into a beauty's pants…
For how else would his followers believe his beauty ratings if he didn't have experience?
'That reminds me, I should really thank him for steering me towards the femboy heaven,' one of his parallel thoughts pointed out. …Yeah, he should invite Harry to his femboy club sometime too—it being right there next to his oppai one had nothing to do with why Harry would remember it…
'And don't forget to send your invitation right after he has sex,' another thought popped up, reminding him of how to go about inviting Harry to anything.
Not that he could judge the kid for mellowing out after sex when he does the same exact thing. There's a reason Penemue sends him a woman to fuck before any important meeting takes place.
'As distracting as this is, I still have work to do,' he thought as he sat down at his new desk. The chair was really comfortable, not to mention that the office's new design gave a refreshing atmosphere for work, but…
'Do I really have to start with this right now?' He thought as he skimmed through the first report in the pile…Dead fallen angels cell. An unauthorized mission. Asia Potter… 'Yeah, I am not touching that with a ten-foot pole,' he thought as he quickly incinerated the report… Plausible deniability and all that…
Really, what were they thinking, writing a report about this? Don't they know to ignore anything that has the name Potter on it?
'But it is required to report the deaths of high-class fallen,' one of his many parallel thoughts unhelpfully reminded him…
'It doesn't matter even if it was a high-class level cell. They fucked around and found out… it was as simple as that…'
He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, hand massaging his temple, as he regulated his breathing. It was stupid stuff like this that made him regret taking up the position of the leader.
Ah~ the mistakes of youth…
He could still fondly remember how hot-headed he was back then; feeling rebellious and 'free', he gathered those who fell with him, or after him, and built himself an organization. Sure, being the strongest angel par the archangels made his recruitment job a lot easier, but that didn't prepare him for the actual job, which was babysitting, because that's what this is. Babysitting.
He should have known that it was all too good to be true. He blamed his dad for that. He was to blame for some reason or another…
Still, gathering them did have its perks too; it made it a lot harder to mess with them, for one... but it didn't make keeping them in check any easier.
"We really are heaven's rejects, aren't we?" he murmured as he rubbed his eyes.
'Heaven's rejects' was a term Harry Potter preferred to call them by sometimes, and it was not an inaccurate description. It was a too-close-to-home description, actually, because that's how they felt. All day, every day. Twenty-four fucking seven…
Do you know what it's like to be born into the grace of God? To feel the grace of God all the time, since birth, for centuries, a millennium or more? To feel absolutely safe, happy, content, gleeful, fortuitous, blissful, exultant, and every fucking positive emotion on the spectrum since the moment of your birth? Every second of every day for decades? Centuries? And more? Only for you to lose it due to making a mistake that most of the time you don't even know what it is? To be stripped of said grace and thrown out? To be denied everything that made you…you?…
It's no wonder they were like this. They were damaged goods. Sure, most of them learned to live with it. To distract themselves with something they enjoy. It's just that sometimes (most of the time) what they enjoy isn't exactly…uh, age appropriate? Good? Aligned with the laws? Sinful? Probably evil? Umm~ he should really stop thinking about it…
So yeah, calling them heaven's rejects is not inaccurate. He knew that if any of them had the opportunity to go back and regain their grace, they'd do it at the drop of a hat. Without hesitation, but that's too good to be true.
Especially when Dad is dead…
'Ugh… and now my mood is spoiled. Hmm, maybe a short visit to my femboy heaven would help alleviate my mood?'
Yes, yes it would… now he just needed to walk out without being stopped, and he knew what to do. He just had to take one of the numerous reports on his desk, hold it in a way that doesn't allow others to read its content, furrow his eyebrows a little, make a serious face, and go out and walk with purpose.
It doesn't matter if he had more than one parallel thought chanting (femboi, oppai, femboy, oppai…) inside his head; he just needed to not show it.
He could also sneak out, sure. But this tactic had less chance of Penemue finding out and coming after him… right?
Ugh~ if only she was strong enough to take his position… not that she was weak, she just wasn't strong enough. Or more accurately, not as strong as him. None of them were…
That doesn't matter now; let's just get out of here… wait for me, my heaven, Azazel is coming…
….
After a successful escape from what would have been a dreadful day, Azazel found himself relaxing in the back room of his oppai club.
You know, getting the appetizers before his full course meal.
He was enjoying the feeling of his face being buried in between some double Ds when his phone started ringing. Now, normally he'd just turn it off, but that specific ringtone meant that he couldn't.
Tapping on the girl's shoulder with his left hand, his right one went to fish out his phone out of his pocket. The girl quickly understood what he wanted as she straightened herself back up and went out of the room.
Snap~ he locked the door and cast a regular security charm on it with a snap. Even if it wasn't needed, seeing as his club was equipped with a decent-sized ward-bank full of all kinds of security wards, it was still a habit…
"Yo, Michael, what's up?" he answered the phone with the most casual tone he could muster.
"Hello to you too, Azazel," Michael answered in a resigned tone. "Do you have time to meet today?"
Hearing the seriousness in that question, Azazel knew that this was not a drill—hehe—this was not a casual meet and greet (like they'd go for one of those); this was a somewhat formal and serious request that didn't need the attention they'd get if they went for their usual bureaucratic dance and play.
"Does it have to be today?" he asked.
"Yes," Michael's curt reply was all he needed.
"Sigh." His day of fun time was going to have to be put on hiatus… unless… "Okay, fine. But I am picking the meeting place and that's final," he replied while debating which of his clubs to pick…
"You're going to pick one of your usual 'fun' places, aren't you…" He could hear the quote, the emphasis, Michael put on the word fun, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
"Yes, yes I am," he answered, and like a kid who had just done something and won against an adult, he sounded proud of his achievement.
"Sigh, ok. Which one?" Michael's tired tone was uplifting. It seemed his fun time didn't have to be cut short after all.
"The new one. I am sure you know where it is," Azazel answered. "Just like every other supernatural entity in the world," he mumbled that last bit, remembering just how much noise the opening day of his femboy club generated.
"…See you in a few…" Michael mumbled, and the line was cut…
'I am telling you, it was Harry's doing.' One of his numerous parallel thoughts stated the obvious.
Of course, he knew Harry was the one responsible for the mess that is the opening day of his club. It wasn't that he cared too much about it either. It was just that… umm, you see, the supernatural side of the world has this pretentious, fly-high, and flashy quality to it, so even if you opened the most depraved establishment in the world, the opening day has to have some of that pretentiousness woven into it.
That means invites, ceremony, decorations, cocktails, party, etc…
He didn't plan to make a fuss out of it; he wanted it to be a normal, non-supernatural, ordinary thing, but those plans went up in smoke…thanks to Harry…
Still, it wasn't like he lost anything; no, in fact, he gained more from that mess than he lost. He gained the first certain confirmation about the fact that Harry has a certain level of sway over reality.
He had his suspicions when he saw the erasure thing back then, but that incident was the first certain confirmation of said suspicions. The way he was blindsided by the guests that were arriving—from gods, to devils, to yokais, you name it. They had invites he didn't issue, time, place, and location he didn't share, and were ready for a party he didn't throw.
So yeah, that was an embarrassing show… and all of it because he told someone that Harry is hosting Ophis—in an effort to keep stupid people from bothering the kid—even if said stupid people were just some usernames on the internet.
In hindsight, he could see why Harry did not appreciate that, but still, he was unbothered by most of the supernatural races because of it. Only someone who forfeited his life would be crazy enough to bother him after knowing that.
Not that the kid needed the protection in the first place… yeah, it's best not to remember anything about that… let's just leave it at that…
He didn't hear the kid mumbling anything about an authority and soul burden. Nothing…
—Knock knock—
Snap~ he snapped his fingers in reply, and the door opened, bringing into view a fun-sized girl with huge oppai, a legal loli, and the manager of this fine establishment; Yamanad something… not important…
"Azazel-sama, Michael-sama is here." She informed him, making him nod and gesture to her to bring him in.
Time to see what his brother wants…
"Hello again, Azazel." Michael greeted as he entered the room, bringing with him the feeling of a watered-down grace. A feeling so dearly missed.
"Yeah, yeah. Just sit down." He gestured lazily, inviting his brother to take a seat next to him.
….
"Would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
….
"Was that really necessary?" he asked tiredly.
"Yes, it's only proper." Michael's reply gave him the urge to sigh again.
"Ok, fine. Start talking. What do you need me for?"
—————-
I am back. I was busy writing my second FanFiction, Dumbledore: the white lord. And kind of neglected the updates of this one…
Sorry about that😂😂