#obeymefic

summary: you and simeon, both angels, decide to rebel against god himself, opposing to the execution of lilith.

cw: tiny bit of blood at the very end

a/n: first fanfic lesgoooooo

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧.𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧. 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧.𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧.𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣

This is the tenth part of my “when he knew he loved you” series.

Lucifer | Mammon | Levi | Satan | Asmo | Beel | Belphie Diavolo | Barbatos | Solomon | Simeon | Luke

✨My Masterlist✨

Warnings: Horrendous cooking? Pairing: Solomon x GN!MC Words: 2714

When Solomon invited you to come over after class, you were expecting to hang out and watch TV or tackle a few assignments together. Or hell, a magic show? You told him you were up for anything, but… you had no idea this is what he had in mind.

As you entered Purgatory Hall, he mentioned having a new recipe he wanted to try and, thinking that he meant something magical, you said it sounded fun. But, sadly, he led you to the kitchen.

That’s where you’ve been for over an hour. You pause for a second as you take in the things that the two of you had added to a bowl. He did say dinner, right? Yes. Come to think of it, those were his exact words: ‘it’s my turn to make dinner.’

But, why does this seem more like a potion to kill your enemies than a simple casserole?

Maybe this was a mistake, you think as you watch Solomon dump a bowl of God-knows-what (actually, you know what and that’s more terrifying) into a baking dish. Then he turns and smiles.

“This is going to be great, I just know it.” His optimism is admirable, but you have your doubts. That’s putting it mildly. In all honesty, you’re trying to work out how you can fake your own death before the timer goes off. But that’s beside the point.

“Well,” he starts, dusting his hands off on a towel, “now that it’s in the oven, we have nothing to do but wait.”

“Actually, we’ve got a lot of dishes to wash,” you point out the dishes strewn around the kitchen.

He grins, “oh, do we?”

You gesture to the room, “yeah?”

Solomon mutters a few words and the dishes littering every available surface are suddenly spotless. You gasp in surprise. He says something else and they start to put themselves away, floating into their spots.

“Just one of the perks of being a sorcerer,” he smiles.

That was incredible. And you’re about to tell him that when Simeon walks in, with Luke in tow.

“Luke, we can’t do that, we—” the older angel pauses when he sees you. “Oh, hello MC. What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know you were here!” Luke says excitedly.

“We’re making dinner,” you answer.

The color seems to drain from Simeon’s face and Luke’s expression quickly changes to one of displeasure.

“It’ll be done soon,” Solomon adds.

“Uh, don’t we have work to do, Luke?” Simeon asks, starting back out the door.

“Huh?” Luke starts, then a lightbulb comes on. “Oh yeah! Lots of work! Important work! We’ll see you two later!” He scampers out the door behind his guardian and you lean against the counter with your arms crossed.

“They’re acting weird.”

Solomon sighs, “they always run off like that when I’m in the kitchen. I know I’m not a five star chef, but it’s not always that bad.”

You think back to the first (and only) time you’d sampled Solomon’s cooking. Beel had been trying to get rid of some cookies, which was odd in itself. But he hadn’t told you that they were made by a wizard with the cooking skills of a toad. Or some other animal who’s never heard of a measuring cup.

“Maybe they just have different tastes? After all, they’re from a completely different place,” you say, pointing upwards.

He considers it for a moment, “perhaps.”

After a few moments of silence, you clap your hands together. “We’ve got thirty minutes, what should we do now?”

“I have something we could do. If you’d like to help me.”

“Help you what?” you ask.

“I have to create a potion for a class tomorrow. I was going to get up early to do it in the morning, but since we have time…” he trails off.

“Oh, I’d love that!” you answer.

He beams at your response and steps onto a small stool in the corner of the room. Then he unlocks a cabinet, one you hadn’t used at all while preparing the catastrophe in the oven.

Solomon pulls a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to you. “Would you get these things together really quick? I need to go find a couple things in my room.”

“I, uh, okay.” you say as he exits, leaving you with a very strange list.

You climb onto the stool and peer into the mysterious cabinet. It’s filled with jars and vials and bottles and dried… things. You’re honestly not at all sure what you’re looking at. And the list doesn’t help, not even slightly.

“Um, okay. A sprig of tansy…” you mumble to yourself. You scan the shelf lined with several dried plants, but none of them are labeled.

“Next?” You look back at the list in your hand and your mouth goes dry. Not wanting to search for lizard feet, you continue.

You read the remaining items on the list and the only recognizable item is a four-leaf clover. You find a bottle containing such and pluck it from the shelf. You sit it on the counter and reread the insane list.

Meanwhile, Solomon has just collected his favorite miniature cauldron from his room, along with a couple of small, empty bottles. As he nears the kitchen, he hears your voice and pauses in the doorway to listen.

“Raven’s feather, spiderweb, rain water collected under a full moon. Is he joking?” you ask the empty room.

Solomon is amused at your inexperience. He watches you for a few seconds as you dig through the cupboard.

“It’s actually a real recipe. To a real potion,” he says, startling you as he places his things on the counter.

You turn at his voice. A bit too quickly, the stool rocks under your feet. He moves to steady you as you grab the side of the wall for balance.

“Are you alright?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Yeah, I… Why do you keep all your weird stuff up here anyway?” you ask, trying to ignore the burn in your cheeks.

He laughs softly before taking his hands off your waist. Then offers you his hand so that you can step down off the stool. You take it and decide to hop up on the counter for a seat.

“Simeon and I discussed it when we became roommates. We were both afraid that Luke would get into it. We know he’s not exactly a toddler, but… Some of these things are dangerous, fatal even, if you use them incorrectly.”

Your eyes grow wide, as you’d just been fiddling around in the cabinet of death. “Like what?” you ask, inspecting your hands for any sign of contamination.

“Um,” Solomon scans the cupboard for a moment before producing a medium-sized jar filled with small mushrooms. They’re all glowing, giving off a faint blue light. “These, for instance, are fairy stools. They’re very pretty, but if you handle them without gloves, they, uh, kill you.”

“Oh jeez.”

“And this,” Solomon says, showing you another, smaller bottle filled with something green and fluffy, “is a type of poisonous moss. I guess that speaks for itself.”

“Wait… aren’t a lot of potions like… drank? Wouldn’t they be harmful?” you ask, head tilted slightly.

“Hmm. If everything is used properly, their individual effects are negated.” Solomon places the jar back in its spot, then finds something else. He explains the effects and risks of half a dozen odd things.

(Thankfully, he doesn’t show you a box of lizard feet.)

“Oh,” he says, taking out a thick, gnarled plant. “This one is wildroot. It grows under a certain type of tree and it’s only usable if you pick it in the afternoon, in late autumn. Any other time and it’s useless.”

“Huh,” you say, taking it from him, “that’s so weird.” You turn the root over in your hands and it doesn’t seem too special. Just… dirty. You hand it back and Solomon places it back where it goes.

“Yeah, it’s typically used in… love potions and charms. Stuff like that. But, it has lots of other uses. That’s why I always try to keep some around.”

“Love potion?” you start to laugh, but the look on his face changes your mind.

“They’re real. They don’t always have the effect people are going for, but they’re real.” he explains.

“Have you ever made a love potion, Solomon?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Once or twice,” he answers, looking through the cabinet. Then he turns to you. “Never for myself, mind you.”

“Of course not.” you laugh. Not that he’d need it. He’s attractive and smart and… looking at you funny.

“I’m serious,” he says.

“I believe you. It was just a joke. Go on, go on,” you say, waving your hand. You could listen to him talk about magic for hours, but… Unfortunately, the timer goes off.

“Oh, I guess it’s ready,” he says, blinking at the realization that he’d just spend nearly half an hour rambling about a bunch of dumbass plants and weeds when he could’ve been talking to you.

He sighs inwardly. “I guess… I’ll finish this tomorrow.” he says, starting to put things away.

You, on the other hand, wash your hands quickly, just to be sure you don’t have poison mushroom juice on them or something. Then turn off the oven and grab a pot holder.

When you pull it out, the casserole is bubbling. But there are no visible signs of it being inedible. It smells quite good. And the steam doesn’t briefly form a skull and crossbows. (Not that you notice, anyway.)

You leave Solomon to reorganize his death cupboard and start to dish out a bit onto two plates. You don’t take much for yourself, both because you’re scared and because you’ll be expected to eat with your housemates when you get home. But mostly because you’re scared.

Hopefully, you can play it like you’re saving it for Solomon’s roommates. Oh yeah.

“If any angels want dinner, it’s ready!” you shout out the kitchen door. You’re met with silence.

“They… probably won’t be joining us,” Solomon says sheepishly.

“Well,” you swallow, looking at the plate before you, “more for us.”

The two of you clink your forks together and start to dig in. And you’re surprised. Especially because of the testimonials you’ve heard from the demons. And the angels’ sudden inability to hear.

“Huh, not bad.” you half lie. It’s not awful, except for an insane excess of salt. But other than that, it’s not testing your gag reflex.

“Hm,” Solomon agrees.

Soon after you set your fork down, you start to search for something, anything, to drink. Hell, you’d settle for the poison mushroom juice.

But instead, you find a glass and get yourself some water from the tap, thankful for something to wash away the salt. Once you finish gulping it down, your phone starts to vibrate.

“I’ll give you one guess.” you say as you start to read incoming messages from the group chat.

Solomon answers immediately, “Mammon.”

“Ding ding ding!” you say, opening the conversation to see exactly what’s being said.

Mammon: MC, why are ya missin’ dinner? Do I need to come get ya?

Beel: Hey, MC. If you’re still busy as Solomon’s, can I have your food?

Asmo: MC! <3 I’m on my way to get you right now~

You sigh, putting your phone away instead of answering.

“Uh, I guess I’ve gotta go now. Sorry I can’t stay to help with the dish— Never mind,” you laugh when you realize he’s already magicked his plate back into the cabinet.

A familiar voice calls out your name in the living room, “MCCCC, I’m here! <3”

“In the kitchen, Asmo.” you answer, at a normal volume.

But he must hear you, because said demon wanders in a moment later. “The kitchen? Not the room I’d have chosen.” he says, his eyes narrowed and lips curled into a devious grin.

You roll your eyes at the joke, “well, Solomon’s a gentleman.”

Asmo makes a face. “Since when?”

Solomon’s face goes red and Asmo laughs. You look back and forth between them, a question on your tongue. But, instead of asking it, you stab your fork into the bit of food left on your plate and shove it into the demon’s mouth.

He immediately stops laughing. His eyes widen and he swallows it quickly. “Are you trying to kill me?! MC! I thought you loved me!” he wails, clinging to your shoulders.

Then he pauses, “wait, that actually wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. Food or otherwise.”

Both you and Solomon groan. “Asmo please. Stop.”

He merely grins, “let’s go now, MC. Lucifer’s annoyed that you’re late. It was his night to cook, after all.”

“Okay, okay. See you later, Sol,” you say.

“Goodnight MC. See you.” he replies as you step out of the room.

You walk beside Asmo back to the HOL, the whole time, he’s asking questions.

“Have you kissed him? You do like him don’t you? I can tell, MC. Ah, I’ll have to help you pick an outfit to wear next time you have a date!”

“It wasn’t a date, Asmo.” you say.

He gives you a look. “What did you do?”

“Uh, we cooked. And then, he told me about a bunch of different magic thingies.” you answer honestly.

“Mhm,” he hums. But he drops the subject as you enter the HOL. He’s sure to bring it up again soon.

At dinner, you finish most of your food, thankful for Lucifer’s cooking ability. But what’s left, you slide across the table to Beel. Once everyone has finished, you check your phone.

There are more messages from earlier that you hadn’t seen.

Mammon: Hey! Why are YOU going to pick them up? Mammon: Seriously?! Beel: I guess that’s a yes about the food? Asmo: Cuz I’m already out the door! ;)

You smile softly, glancing at the silly demons around you.

Then, a new message rolls in, occupying the top of the screen.

Solomon: I had a nice time tonight. MC, if you ever want to learn more about magic, I’d be glad to teach you.

You hear the brother’s talking as you start to type a reply.

“Ooh, who’re you texting MC?” Asmo sings.

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on you.

“Huh? No one?” you say, uncertain.

“New rule: no phones at the table,” Mammon pouts.

“You can’t just put rules in place,” Levi complains, surely playing some mobile game.

“I think that’s a good rule,” says Belphegor.

As the table erupts into chaos, you send your message, cursing Asmo for bringing it up.

MC: I’d love that. Maybe this weekend?

Solomon is sitting on the edge of his bed. This weekend… He thinks about it for a second. That’s too long to wait.

He scrunches his brows. Why exactly is it too long? It’s only three days away. Oh sure, he knows why. He wants to see you again. And, while he’ll be seeing you at RAD, you’re always accompanied by one of the demon brothers. It’s not the same.

He groans. He can’t believe that he wasted the one chance he’s had in weeks to talk to you. He can talk about poisonous plants and spiderwebs and dirt until the cows come home, but…

This is different. He doesn’t want to talk about those things to you. He wants to ask you your favorite things and whether you’d like to go to a movie with him.

He feels strange around you. You make him feel more human. Sure, he is. But, as the years pass, it’s harder and harder to remember that. And in the last few centuries, nothing has made him feel this way.

Solomon isn’t quite sure about this feeling. But… if it’s what he thinks it is, he’s in trouble.

(In the morning, when he’s gathering things for the potion from the Death Cabinet, as you’d so dubbed it, he recalls the night before. Mainly, he remembers your amazement about the simplest things. Well, to him. But, now, he’s suddenly looking at these ordinary ingredients in a new light.

And he can’t wait till the weekend comes. Till he’ll see you again.)

–

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