Another fucking thing now that Iām on a roll with ranting.
You know fucking what. I fucking stan Shi Wudu, I donāt give a fuck how many people are salty and bitchy about what he did to He Xuan. Yeah it was fucking terrible, yeah I fucking love He Xuan too but you know fucking what? Shi Wudu went fucking down like the god damn God he was and with his pride fucking intact.
This man destroyed the years of vengance that He Xuan had been building up in a fucking second. That whole scene had me fucking gasping and hyped upfor Shi Wudu because yeah, fucking He Xuan made him kneel and beat him up and āhumiliated himā and did all of this elaborated shit to make him feel bad but in the end he did so by also torturing Shi Qingxuan and we all know He Xuan eventually did see him as a friend or at least someone that he couldnāt kill. So He Xuan was making Shi Wudu feel bad and be scared for his brother while at the same time obviously doing something he might not have enjoyed much himself just to mess with Shi Wudu.
But then Shi Wudu pulled the uno reverse card and was like YOU KNOW FUCKING WHAT? FUCK YOU AND Y OUR MOM! And fuck your family too and fuck your stinky ass wife or whatever the fuck that whore was. You know what? I WAS A GOD, MY BROTHER WAS A GOD AND WE LIVED FOR YEARS! YEARS! In pleasure and happiness and YOU??? You lived in misery and are still miserable, you are fucking worthless.
Those were his fucking parting words and he was 100% completely fucking right. Even He Xuan knew he was 100% fucking right. Like, without doubt. He was such a badass that I like him just due to this fucking scene.
Oh my god, he went down and fucking dragged everything He Xuan had been working for with him. Such a fucking bad ass, justā¦urg *chefās kiss*
A blue coat. Long limbs. Long black hair with amber eyes. A handsome, yet serious profile. He holds the cue perpendicular to the ground, like a ceremonial cane.
āIt is stated in my investigation manual that, in order to retrieve information from humans, I must observe the surrounding exchange and gain intimacy; and I am simply to follow its principle. As scheduled, it seems that I have gained trust through the billiard game. I will now return to the mission.ā
The young manās voice is flat and clear. And his eyes are unwaveringly serious.
Ā What had been a peaceful billiard match, ended there.
ā-with a sound that seemed to burn the surrounding air, a Kukri knife flew to the manās forehead.
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Hereās my #ObeyMeSecretSanta2020 gift for @iforgotmypreviousaccountlol
Itās my first time writing for OM and my first finished fic inā¦.like two years lol. Hopefully this will throw me back into writing more often!!
Pls enjoy!!
Pairing: MammonxOC
Word count: 3773
Warnings/tags: None, just some sweet fluff, a lil bit of pining, technically human world/boarding school AU.Ā
ā
Eight hours. There was no way he could be here that long, there had to be an opportunity to cut class and sneak out early, maybe hit up some shops and kill time. Anything but being here all day long. Mammon groaned as he splayed out at his desk, legs spread and his head leaning back as far as he could comfortably reach.Ā
āHey! Get your head off of my stuff-ā
āNah, Iām pretty comfy,ā he huffed, not opening his eyes as he addressed his brother lazily, āyou dragged me here, Levi, deal with the consequences.ā Mammon yelped as Levi kicked the back of his chair, causing him to hit his head on his brotherās desk.Ā
āItās the first day of the term, you know Lucifer would have killed us if we didnāt show up. You had no choice.ā Leviathan paused for a beat. āWe had no choice.ā As much as Mammon didnāt want to be there for the first day of class, Levi wanted to be there even less.Ā
Thatās when Mammon began to notice the buzz that was circulating throughout the classroom. Not one to miss out, he tuned in to what his classmates were gossiping about near him as the teacher he was ignoring finished making his announcement.Ā
āWe never get anyone new-ā
āI hope theyāre hot-ā
āHalfway through the year?ā
āTheyāre gonna need to catch up-ā
He pieces together the jumbled voices and connects the dots just as the classroom door swings open, and his eyes trail up a feminine figure, landing on deep brown eyes that seemed to sparkle gold. When those eyes met his, his heart stuttered and all he could do was quickly look away, anywhere else. He feigned his most uninterested face and peered out the window, rationalizing the warmth in his cheeks as the embarrassment of being caught staring.Ā
This is your Secret Santa gift. I hope you like it!
AU:Ā Asmo is a uni student who just moved into a new apartment unit, Solomon is living next door learning how to bake. Every day, Asmo would smell the sweet aroma of baked goods from his room and in the hallways. One day, after a hectic day from uni, he stops in front of the door trying to guess which baked good is being made for that day. The door opens, cue awkward silence, Solomon invites Asmo into his apartment, and into his life.
ASMO
There, there it is again. Asmodeus glanced at his wall clock. Right on time: 2 oāclock in the afternoon. The sweet smell of sugar and pastry permeated his room. His next-door neighbour is baking again. He closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to take a guess which pastry his neighbour decided to make today. It has been a good past-time for whenever he found himself bored on some days when he doesnāt have uni classes. Not that he had nothing better to do, he had to catch up on a lot of schoolworks but he isnāt in the mood to do them right now.
He moved in just a few months ago so he could be closer to school, but now that he enjoyed the new-found freedom that is living alone, he realized he missed the constant presence of his brothers. Sure, having his own place meant that Lucifer wasnāt around to nag him when he goes out to party most nights, or if he brings people back to his place for some night escapades (He never did bring someone over though. Maybe he should.) He made a mental note to go home for the weekend if the workload permits.
āCinnamon rolls,ā he finally said, propping up from the couch. The sweet smell of the cinnamon powder that contrasted with the slightly sour cream cheese made Asmoās mouth water. He groaned. āIf youāre gonna make pastries, at least offer some to your neighbours so we donāt get hungry from the smell.ā
Now he has no choice but to go down and buy something sweet to satisfy his craving. He put on a peach sweater and wrapped a white scarf around his neck. He stared at his reflection for a moment. His champagne-colored hair was longer on one side, stylishly swept to frame his face. His diamond stud earring reflected light when he turned his face in a certain angle. āAlright, enough. I look stunning, as always.ā
He wrinkled his nose at his neighbourās door when he passed on his way out, the smell of cinnamon is much stronger in the hallway. He hadnāt even met the mysterious baker, given that heās almost always out to some party when he isnāt in class, itās strange that they never even once bumped into each other in the lobby or the elevator. He shrugged and went on his way to hunt for some cinnamon rolls.
Ā ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Ā Asmo was almost dragging himself back to his condo unit after a hectic morning. He had a 3-hour lecture for Fashion Marketing and he had to pass a 10-page essay on Fashion Theory (which of course, he crammed last night. He even skipped a campus party!) and heās just about ready to pass out and is determined to take a long nap for the whole afternoon. That would have been a solid plan, except itās 2 oāclock in the afternoon and the scent of baked sweets wafted from his neighbourās room and into the hallway.
He stopped on his tracks and inhaled the scent, his brain immediately fell to its routine, trying to discern which ingredients are being used to create what pastry. āMilk, definitely. What else? Eggs? And ohāā
The door suddenly opened. Asmo jerked back in surprise, his hand latched to the strap of his sling bag. He blinked once, twice.
A tall man with silvery-white hair with stunning blue-gray eyes, wearing a black turtleneck with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and white apron, came out of the room carrying a small trash bag. Asmo was never one to be at a loss for words, especially not in front of attractive people, but his tongue refused to make an audible sound.
āOh, hello. I suppose youāre my neighbour? I believe this is the first time weāre meeting each other?ā The man continued, āIām Solomon.ā
Asmo shook off his surprise and cleared his throat. He wore his usual disarming smile and nodded at him. āAsmodeus. I just came back from school, I was just, uh,ā he said while gesturing to his unitās door.
āI see.ā
Awkward silence filled the space between and around them. Asmo noticed a faint sprinkle of flour on Solomonās right cheek, he clamped down the urge to reach in and dust it off.
The fire alarm started beeping causing the two to jolt in surprise. Solomon raced to the trash chute, dumped the trash bag and raced back inside his room to turn off the oven. Asmo stood unmoving to the doorway. He wondered if he should offer help.
Thick smoke came out of the oven when Solomon opened it, he fanned the oven with a mitt. The fire alarm hasnāt stopped beeping so Asmo mindlessly stepped inside and grabbed the nearest flat object (which happened to be a pan of piped cream puff dough) to fan the alarm component on the ceiling. He honestly had no idea what heās doing. The piped dough from the baking pan fell and scattered on the floor, one even hitting him right on the cheek.
āOh. It stopped,ā he commented, the pan still raised over his head.
Asmo glanced at Solomon who was still kneeling in front of the oven and saw that a bunch of dough pieces is now strewn around the kitchen floor. A solitary piece of dough stuck on the baking sheet finally gave up and dropped on Asmoās forehead. He blinked slowly, unsure on how to react.
Solomon snorted, obviously trying but miserably failing to hold back a laugh. Asmo flicked away the dough which earned a chuckle from Solomon, which in turn triggered Asmo to burst into laughter.
āSorry, that wasā¦ not funny.ā Solomon said in between laughs.
Asmo doubled over. He wiped a tear that escaped his eye from laughing and said, āIt kinda was.ā
āListen, why donāt you sit and clean yourself up. Iāll just tidy up for a bit and we could enjoy the successful batch I made earlier. Think of it as a welcoming present.ā
Asmo considered it for a moment. Sleep orā¦ this? āSure.ā
Solomon smiled, and started cleaning up the mess.
Asmo pulled out a chair and sat. His rose and gold eyes followed Solomonās movement. It mesmerized him; the grace in his movements, certain and self-assured. He stared so hard he didnāt even notice that Solomon was already standing in front of him asking something.
He shook his head a tiny bit. āIām sorry, come again?ā
Solomon chuckled. His chuckle sent a shiver down Asmoās spine.
āI asked if you would like tea or coffee. To pair with the cream puffs.ā
āTea, please. With milk.ā
Solomon nodded and proceeded to the kitchen counter to make the tea. Asmo wanted to face palm and cringe. Why is he acting this way?
āSoā¦ tell me about yourself,ā Solomon said.
Asmo paused. In any other instances, he wouldāve already started talking about himself without even needing to be prompted. Why is it that he canāt think of something interesting to tell this guy?
āWhy donāt we talk about you first?ā Asmo deflected the question.
That earned another smile from the fair-haired man. He brought the cooling rack containing the cream puffs and a tray of tea and cups.
āWhat do you want to know?ā
Everything, Asmo thought. Instead he asked, āWhatās your major?ā
āChemistry. You?ā
Huh, that surprisingly fits him. āFashion design. Why are you always baking?ā
Solomon sipped his tea. āI promised my little brother Luke I would teach him how to bake. You see, a friend of mine, Barbatos went overseas for a job. He was the one who was supposed to teach Luke. But since he canāt, I decided to give it a go.ā
āThatās incredibly nice of you.ā
āThank you. For now I still need to watch videos and study the recipe but I think Iām starting to get the hang of it. Well, except for the incident earlier.ā
Asmo nodded. The cream puffs looked so good he wanted to pull out his phone and post it on his Instagram but he stopped himself. He reached for one and popped it into his mouth.
The milky taste and the slight crisp of the puff blended well, it tasted divineāAsmoās thoughts stopped at the same time he stopped chewing. WHAT IS THAT? Itās bitter and spicy and sour, flavor after flavor assaulted his taste buds faster than his brain can process the actual taste of the pastry.
He looked at Solomon, the latter clearly expecting a comment or reaction from him. Good thing he quickly managed his expression. He smiled, the cream puff still stuck on the roof of his mouth.
He was saved by the ringing of Solomonās phone. When Solomon turned his back to reach for his phone, he quickly spit out the pastry on his handkerchief and stowed it on his bagās pocket.
Solomonās eyes widened slightly at him when he saw him gulped down his tea as a desperate attempt to wash out the aftertaste. āYou sure are thirsty. More tea?ā Solomon offered.
āI am. Yes, please.ā Asmo nodded vigorously.
āSo, what can you say about the cream puffs? Itās my first time so I can understand if they didnāt turn out perfect.ā
That would be the understatement of the year, Asmo thought. He also dreaded the question. To tell or not to tell? āDo you have any more of the strawberry tart you made the other day?ā
āHow did you know I made some?ā
āPlease. Everyone on this floor probably knows what youāre baking every day.ā
Solomon chuckled and proceeded to get a strawberry tart from his fridge.
Asmo swallowed, bracing himself. Just a small bite. A chaos of flavors.
He placed his palms flat on the table for 10 seconds then rushed to the sink to spit out the tart and gargle water. āWhat the hell was that?ā
Solomon raised an eyebrow at him. āWhat do you mean? It tastes normal to me.ā
Asmoās jaw fell when he saw Solomon eating his tart with no problem, enjoying it even. He canāt believe he spent his days craving for sweets his neighbour baked when in reality they taste this atrocious.
āThatās it, Solomon. Youāre not allowed to bake anymore,ā Asmo said, shaking his head.
āHuh? I thought I was doing fine. I really need to learn though, I canāt disappoint Luke.ā
Asmo bit his lip, considering. He sighed. āFine. You can bake all you want, but never without me. Iāll oversee whatever youāre doing to make sure you never end up making thoseā¦ those unidentifiable monstrosities again!ā
Solomon smiled; in his grey-blue eyes, Asmo saw wonders, and potential, andā¦ a future. āDeal.ā
SOLOMON
Solomon checked his watch. Itās Friday and Asmo will be coming over in a minute or two. Itās already been more than a month since they started their ābaking lessons.ā Granted, itās not every day; itās only twice a week, thrice when their schedule permits. But would it be a stretch if he admitted to himself that the highlight of his weeks are the days when Asmodeus comes over to watch him work?
A knock interrupted his thoughts. He should just give Asmo a spare key, he thought while walking towards the door.
āYouāll never guess what happened in class today! So see, I crammed a paper again last night so I almost came late for class. Our professor for that class was Professor Simeon, you know? Heās wonderful but can be very strict so I didnāt want to be late and be scolded but then, on the way to the classroomā¦ā
Solomonās lips tugged at the corner as he watched Asmo lament about his tiring day at school. His strawberry champagne bangs swept stylishly, slightly messed up by the wind. His gold and ruby eyes sparkling along with his words and gestures. Asmo always looked alive to him. No, not the usual alive as in living. Really alive. Maybe thatās what happens when you know to find love in everything.
āAnyway, what are we making today?ā Asmo finished, hanging his white coat on the rack near the door.
We. It shouldnāt have sounded as nice as it did. āWe,ā he said the word with maybe a bit more excitement than warranted, āare making red velvet cake.ā
āAll right! Thatās great. I love red velvet.ā
āI already preparedāā
He stopped because of the irritation that flashed in Asmoās eyes. He bit his lower lip to suppress a smile.
āThrow it out.ā
āThat would be a waste. At least try out the batter before rejecting it.ā
Asmo put both his hands on Solomonās shoulders and looked at him seriously, emphasizing his words, āSolomon, I know for a fact that you are an amazing and smart chemist, but youāre hopeless in the kitchen.ā
Solomon laughed which earned a chuckle from Asmo. āNo, no, I didnāt add any suspicious ingredients this time. I swear. I followed the instructions word for word.ā
Asmo begrudgingly took a spoon and tasted the batter.
āGood?ā
He shrugged. āSurprisingly.ā
It was two weeks ago when Asmo finally figured out what he was doing wrong all this time. Solomon had a bad habit of experimenting with ingredients, most likely because of his chemistry experiments. But even after figuring out whatās the problem, Asmo continued supervising his baking. Not that heās complaining, and not that he would ever ask the arrangement to be over. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked having Asmodeus over.
Solomon started whipping the frosting with a hand mixer while Asmo stayed close to watch him. It took a lot to focus and not glance on his side.
Asmo said, āHey, you got a little somethingāā
His eyes met Asmoās in time as Asmoās fingers dusted something from his cheek. They stayed frozen in time for a moment; staring at each other, Asmoās fingers barely grazing Solomonās cheek.
The moment wouldāve lasted longer if the mixerās whisk attachment hit the side of the bowl in a wrong angle and sprayed both of them with frosting. They blinked at each other before bursting into laughter.
āKitchen blunders for the nth time,ā Solomon joked.
Asmo pulled out his phone and suggested they take a picture, Solomon let Asmo take their āselfie.ā After Asmo was satisfied with the pictures, Solomon reached for a paper towel to wipe frosting from Asmoās usual immaculately beautiful face.
After the cake cooled, Asmo helped design the frosting. He also took pictures to post on his Instagram. Solomon made an account last week just to look at the pictures occasionally. The photo of the cake earned hundreds of likes and comments in minutes. Well, that canāt be helped, Asmo is a popular guy. Solomon would be too if he actually bothered to socialize, but he found it rather exhausting to deal with people heās not interested in.
āHey, could you send me our picture from earlier?ā Sol said.
āOh yeah, sure.ā Asmo fiddled with his phone. āā¦And sent.ā
āThank you,ā Solomon replied.
They settled down on the table to eat the cake they made and have some tea. They talked about their days and their upcoming exams. Eventually, the sun started setting. Its golden rays streaming from the window, dyeing the room in a soft orange hue.
āI think youāre okay now, Solomon. Remember to just always follow the instructions and donāt add any unnecessary ingredients to whatever youāre cooking or baking, and itāll turn out fine.ā
Solomon raised an eyebrow. He pushed away the idea that Asmo will now stop coming over because they already eliminated the cause of the weird taste (which isnāt actually weird for him).
āIt's a force of habit. Iām always curious so I canāt stop myself from experimenting with things.ā
āI guessā¦ā
āWhy, am I eating up too much of your time?ā He asked.
āOf course not. I like spending time with you, Solomon.ā Asmoās cheeks flushed a bit.
Solomon sipped his tea.
Asmo took the small window of silence to change the topic. āAnyway, I got a call from Mammon the other day and guess what? Heās appearing in a magāā
āMe too,ā he interrupted.
āHmm?ā
āI like spending time with you too.ā
Asmo was caught off-guard but eventually smiled. He reached for his bag and pulled out a silver box with a champagne-colored ribbon. āBy the way, here.ā
Solomonās brows wrinkled. āWhatās this?ā
āHappy Birthday, Solomon.ā
āHow did youāā
Asmo winked at him. āInformation comes easily when you have a lot of friends.ā Asmo laughed and continued, āKidding. Iām in the same class as Meph, he works in the registrarās office as an assistant so I asked him. I had to do him some favours, but eh, itās worth it.ā
āThank you, Asmo. Really.ā
Asmoās phone beeped, he looked at his notifications. His eyes widened a fraction.
Solomon smiled. He had an idea why Asmo was surprised. He glanced on his own phone, notifications pouring in fast. He clicked on a post, his first one ever.
Itās a photo Asmo took of them earlier. Asmo, lively as always, was throwing a peace sign while winking, his ruby and gold eyes full of wonder; Solomon, his blue-grey eyes a pool of mystery, was smiling a bit, looking at him contentedly. The caption? Best birthday with āthat special someone.ā
His phone chimed, a notification appeared on top of his screen: Asmodeus liked your photo.
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