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darklyndivinely · 2 years

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The Brothers react to your sudden demise

Fandom(s) - Obey Me!

Character(s) - The Demon Brothers (-Mammon, Belphie)

Summary - Headcannons about how The Brothers would react to finding out about your death.

Warnings - ANGST, sad!Bois, mentions of death, mentions of kissing (Satan, Asmo), mentions of sex and related activities (Asmo), most of them don't know how to cope healthily.

Wordcount - 3.5k+

A/N - This has been in the work for ages. Unfortunately, I could not write Mammon and Belphie even though I had ideas for them. Also idk why Beel's is so short, it just feels like there's nothing more to add. This time Levi's is the best, haha.

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Premise - Diavolo steeples his fingers together. The atmosphere of the Council Meeting Room is palpable with tension. Finally, after a deep breath, the prince says, "Mc is dead... They died from a sudden heart attack and were discovered a couple hours ago in their apartment."

LUCIFER, AVATAR OF PRIDE

Lucifer is distressed beyond belief. Playing in front of his eyes is his worst nightmare, the dread of a reality he had been steadily gathering his courage for. Suddenly, it’s not a moment of dire anticipation swirling through his mind nor is it contemplation of a reaction he might have in the future. This is the future. You are dead, and Lucifer doesn’t know whether to scream or sob.

The council meeting room has become blanketed by silence following Diavolo’s words. None of his brothers seem forthcoming to break it, eyes hooded over with fierce emotions, and so Lucifer stifles the tremor in his bones. His voice, as he demands more information, quivers on its way out.

All he wants at that moment is for Diavolo to laugh in his signature boisterous way, clap a hand on his shoulder, and say how this was nothing but part of an elaborate prank. But the Demon Prince, to his deep disappointment, doesn’t laugh or show any signs of amusement at his suffering, and instead offers him details that only twist the knife lodged in his heart deeper.

Lucifer's eyes gravitate to Barbatos' then, seeking confirmation or comfort, he doesn’t know. What he does know is he shouldn't, he really shouldn’t, but as the butler displays a breath of hesitation before firmly shaking his head, he can’t help but latch onto that brief moment of uncertainty.

The next day, having freshened up to the best of his abilities, he reaches out to Barbatos. A couple of hours of rephrasing his questions enough times irritates the butler into submission, and he receives the wretched answer he’d been so craving. The one and only timeline in which you’ll still be alive and breathing was the one where you never discovered Devildom, where he didn’t sign his approval on your application, where he didn’t live out all those blissful years with you at all.

Lucifer feels his teetering balance tip. Did he possess enough strength to grant you life but watch you thrive from afar, blissfully unaware of his existence? Was he resilient enough to watch you fall in love with a stranger and hold himself back to allow you that simple shred of happiness? The answer is simple and yet the most impractical course to exist, so Lucifer accepts the soft hug he receives from Barbatos.

Later that night, back against his cool headboard, lower half cocooned in his blankets, he clasps in his fingers a polaroid of you. With the human realm’s sun shining directly in your face, your eyes were scrunched in this frozen piece of bliss, lips tilted in an amused grimace. Against the bright green backdrop of the vibrant grass and shadows spread at your feet—both his and yours—you were ethereal, the most candid he’ll ever experience you as.

He cradles his shattering heart in the embrace of your warm memory then, forfeiting his being to the anguish knocking at the door of his soul. It bursts in, rushing through his veins with a frenzy, consuming his senses like liquid fire, and tumbling out of his lips in a bloody stream of misery.

How long he fists the sheets on his bed, Lucifer doesn’t know. Grief comes alive in his eyes, fades into anger, and then, sometime after, revisits again. Only this time, when pain sears his body apart, he doesn’t resist, doesn’t scream or sob or cry or even think.

Muffled steps stop before his door at some point. The person doesn't knock though so Lucifer burrows deeper into his cave of exhaustion. As his body succumbs to slumber, he manages to catch sight of a crow settling on his windowsill. He doesn’t send it away.

The next morning, Lucifer pulls his cape over his shoulder with hollow movements, missing the hands that used to run over the lapels and loop around his nape. The breakfast table lacks its eighth set of cutlery, the sight of the vacant chair adjacent to him plucking ruthlessly at the strings of his heart. The first sip of his coffee is starkly normal on his tongue, no bitterness, no edge of cinnamon, no one to thank and appreciate.

Once upon a time, ‘normal’ had been an actuality that he had yearned for. Now, the same word is an incredibly sour thought to him, a harbinger of torment and darkness. You, who he had once considered ruthlessly far from normal, had captured his heart in a vice grip of adoration by that exact unpredictability of yours. You were the most strange, vivid, and beautiful thing to happen to him. The absence of you is, consequently, the most desolating occurence in his life.

The bottle of Demonus Lucifer touches to his lips is freezing, sweet poison popping across his tongue in bubbles of inebriation. Classical notes fade in and out of his hearing, the music a bit too loud to be considered appropriate for nighttime. He begs then, mind hazy with inconsolable longing, desperation solidifying in his eyes once again. His hands reach out, yearning, and graze over the seat you used to once occupy, the covered glass he kept for you to peruse is a bit askew atop his table, the dark skull in his office that you used to admire raking cold claws of uneasiness down his spine.

What would you do if you saw him now? Would you chide him for the liquor that lingers on his lips or would you join in and raise a somber toast? Will your glass as it clinks with his bottle make any sound? Or will it, instead, be a faded ring of your laugh that loses its intensity every passing second?

Lucifer raises the alcohol to his lips again. All that was warm is now cold. But the cold must wait before its descent, for he is not ready for battle yet.

LEVIATHAN, AVATAR OF ENVY

Levi is in disbelief. An incessant buzz rings in his ears, denial bubbling out of his throat in a hurry. Nonsense! How could you be dead when he had talked with you just this morning? Diavolo assures him that they have double-checked—you were dead. Levi shoots out of his seat then. He’ll call you; you’ll pick up, laugh at how ridiculous Diavolo was being, and reassure him of your sentience by gently calling his name through the speakers.

His heart thuds shakily in his chest when the line doesn’t connect. He persists through the agitating rings when finally, finally you pick up. The voice that greets him though, is vastly different than yours. Stumped, Levi tells them how he was hoping to contact you. The voice is slow as it informs him: you had a heart attack this afternoon. There was going to be a funeral soon, if he wished to attend, he was welcome. He thanks them softly, disconnecting the call and turning to avoid the concerned eyes trained on his skin.

You were dead...but how? How could you—fierce and strong, and so, so brave—die? Death didn’t seem to be a concept that rhymed with you, and yet, the grief streaked through the faces around in sharp waves.

“How do you feel?” Mammon asks during a weekly gaming session. For once, Levi doesn’t shush him and tell him to focus; instead, he tries to come up with an answer.

How did he feel? Like his world had darkened at its edges, peace blurring out of existence. The clock in his room has become nothing but a showpiece; his days have started to replicate the journey of the needles, starting and ending the same way. He felt trivial in his existence, unimportant, insignificant; an ink smudge in a sea of pages bound together, nothing more than a drop in comparison. He feels too much. And yet, words fall short, drying on their journey to his lips. There’s so much to say, so Levi stays quiet.

He’s uncertain about the exact moment when he fully braced the full weight of your death. Maybe it was when he had blearily opened his closet one morning and the cosplay costume he had helped you stitch had spilled into his arms. Perhaps it happened when he had been searching for one of his noise-cancelling headphones and had instead found a bunch of pictures of you and him together from when you had dragged him to a carnival photo booth.

Levi has never experienced drowning; water is his main source of power after all. But now, it feels as if his lungs are on fire, ears throbbing in the sea of grief he can’t seem to reach the surface of. The breath he so desperately tries to hold onto soon bubbles into sour water that turns his skin translucent. The glass tank around him has shattered into a billion pieces, all reflecting his numb and broken face and they digdigdig into his heart, deeper and deeper until they pass through and he is left motionless with blood colouring his surroundings and seeping in through his clothes and his exhausted body and back into his heart. Levi thinks he’s screaming, or maybe there are screams in his ears, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.

Where did you go? Levi wonders at night, the blink of his gaming console shading his face blue. Why did you go? Could you not have stayed with him for a day longer? He wanted to tell you how much he enjoyed the song you had sent him. The music video of it was so beautiful and ethereal. And he still hadn’t gotten around to watching that trilogy you had recommended. He wanted to watch it with you. He wanted you to tell him every little trivia you knew about it. He wanted to see you excitedly explain theories and try to swallow any spoilers for his benefit. He wanted to see you again, touch you again, and feel you trace his tail again. Where had you gone?

He’s crashing through walls of memories, screaming and aching and yearning for anything of you. There’s an unfurling seed of desperation in his chest that spreadsspreadsspreads through his veins, and sets his blood alight with the need to be close to you. You can no longer reserve your most wholesome smile for him, the twinkle in your eye as you call his name just before you pull a prank on him having gone missing. He can longer be close to you physically, but he still can feel you emotionally.

And so Levi reaches out to you in his memories. He holds you in his arms and spins you around merrily. He remembers every tidbit of yourself you ever gifted him: phrases of songs you used to hum in the shower, show recommendations given to him over the breakfast table, brand names you had claimed to be your favourite and used. Everything that had brought a smile to your face starts to bring one on his as well. This is a part of you that he has found—many of which are parts you had endowed onto him and him alone.

There are so many things you had loved that he had been unable to, so many memories that he was supposed to have with you, but no more. He’ll live your share of the happiness too, for when he finally meets you again—in this lifetime or the one after—he will tell you all that you have missed. He will tell you how you are and will always be his Henry.

SATAN, AVATAR OF WRATH

Satan doesn’t know how to handle the emotions that rain down on him with Diavolo’s words. His mind feels stuffed with cotton, the tips of his fingers cold with disbelief, and the stark taste of blood on his tongue is fresh and raw. He thinks he says something to Diavolo then, but two days later he has no memory of the words. He has no remembrance of anything besides you.

Satan finds himself tracing the bookshelves in his room. His heart is subdued in his chest, quivering feelings caged inside. He fingers free a familiar book, flipping through the pages yearningly. The book is a most colorful sight, marked with an assortment of highlighters and the familiar imprints of your scent. There are tiny sentences nestled in between paragraphs, so much like words of love and reassurance you used to whisper in his hairline during the truly dark hours, and Satan wonders for the umpteenth time if this was your way of crawling inside his soul and immortalizing yourself. He traces a winky face etched at one of the corners, the full weight of your love cradled between his arms crashing through his being. His knees give way under him, body collapsing onto the ground as heaving sobs rip through his throat.

Forever; such a lie it was. All the soft flutters of it from your lips had fooled him; fooled him into grand delusions; fooled him into saying it back. He had believed that delusion to be reality, taken for granted the touch of your lips on his, and now forever had slipped from between his fingers. His hands had been emptied just like the other side of his bed.

Satan screams then, at the memories throbbing in him like spikes of hot emotion. He rages at the moon that had dulled without your warmth at his side, at the pulsing silence of the library that had become devoid of your breath, at death that had snatched your life away. The white hot pain is unfamiliar but it’s full of meaning, composed of nothing but you, so Satan reaches out to it. He savors the smoke that curls from his burning flesh, the needles that prick his body and draw out his life force. So what if you had lost yours? He’ll gladly share his own life with you. He’ll gladly surrender every second of his existence to you.

Satan knows it’s stupid, cradling the pain like it was you instead. But emotion had never been his forte, and by default, neither had been you. So for once Satan lets himself be stupid, lets his wrath and his pain accompany him as he ventures with you in memories.

The air of House of Lamentation has become charged with cautiousness ever since your demise. Everyone has started treading on eggshells, carefully phrasing their words when trying to initiate communication with the fifth born. Satan shouldn’t, but he feels a twisted satisfaction at their discomfort. The sight of their stuttering tongues and fidgety eyes brings him a pleasure compared to none. He had let loose of the frayed strings of control, had let them fall far, far beyond his reach. He had stopped pretending and everyone hated it. In moments when he feels other’s despair at his behavior, his thoughts of you renew with fervor. You, who had never looked at him differently for his wrath, who had always gripped his arm silently and offered comfort in trying times; you who had loved him and who he had loved in return. You, who had made even his wrath, fall in love with you.

Satan knows the right word for it: defense mechanism. He knows this is nothing but a way to cope with the loss he has endured and yet he can’t bring himself to care. Each passing day, the anchor to his emotions weakens in its hold as his actions blur into a façade and reshape themselves into another hastily conjured illusion. The clock ticking in his mind is consistent: someday he’ll run out of anger and all of his aching and bleeding flesh would tumble out of him. But fortunately for him, that is a long time to come. When that day does come, Satan will be ready. Ready to embrace the chaos inside of him the way you always had.

ASMODEUS, AVATAR OF LUST

Asmo’s immediate reaction is numbness. His mind stills, so does his physical body. Distantly he observes Levi shoot out of his seat but Asmo can’t conjure up any energy to mimic his brother. All of his energy seems to have seeped out of his body with the news of your demise. Upon returning to the House of Lamentation he immediately retreats into his room. Nobody catches sight of him for the next couple days. Mammon tries to get him to open the door after Asmo fails to show up for meals for a full day, but he gives up when it’s clear that his brother has no intention of picking the food he had left outside.

When Asmo does appear, a full five days later, everybody does a double check at the sight. When before Asmo had been soft pinks and tangy greens, he now had switched those colors with treacherous black and ruminating silver. His face had hardened into smooth marble with spikes circling his neck in beautiful constrictions, heels getting deadlier by the day. Your death had both awakened and subdued something in him.

One morning, when Satan casually brings up the change in aesthetics, Asmo pauses, twirls his fork around his fingers, and replies without glancing up, “I am mourning, of course.”

He is mourning, that much is true. However, as he sits in the dark of his room, Asmo wonders if his ways are healthy. There are so many feelings in his chest that he had never expressed to you. Everything around him: his room, his closet, the dining table, the garden, all of it so familiar was now painted with memories of you. A part of him yearns to run. Escape from the ghost of your hand that lingers on his cheek, the color of your eyes that haunts his mind, the taste of your lips, and the cozy fit of his face against your shoulder that never leaves him be.

Everything hurts. And some days, Asmo gives in to that yearning. Let the succubus’ clinging to him run their hands over his hips because did it really matter if those hands weren’t yours? At least this way he could pretend. Pretend that the voice moaning his name is yours, that the fingers that scrape against his scalp are familiar. At least this way he can pretend that you hadn’t scooped his soul hollow with your death, that he hadn’t lost all sense of direction when you had taken your last breath.

There’s another part of him too. A part that doesn’t want to let you go, that wants to cling to the shadow of your memory and carve your name on the insides of his soul. On days he succumbs to this part of his being, Asmo welcomes the phantom touch of your gaze on his. He goes to The Fall, a club you both had frequented and orders the drinks you had. He twirls in the spot you had liked, breathlessly sings along to the music like you had, and dances and dances.

Dances till his vision swims with vivid memories and pain becomes his enemy; it’s a constant company, a relentless reminder that he is alive and breathing while you aren’t. You weren’t dancing with him or holding hands or laughing or doing anything but lying dead somewhere so, so far away. He was so dumb for letting you return to that wretched human realm by yourself. He should have been there with you but he wasn’t.

Instead, he is here, wrecked and inebriated, trying to pretend that his world hasn’t slipped off his axis; trying to pretend that he isn’t completely and utterly shattered with you gone.

BEELZEBUB, AVATAR OF GLUTTONY

Beel is heartbroken. Two days ago when you had called him, you had sounded like you always did: excited, radiant and full of life. You had found a delicious velvet cake, you’d told him and had proceeded to describe the taste in such exquisite detail, Beel had to run to Madam Screams to satisfy his sudden craving. The news that you had succumbed to death barely forty-eight hours after he had talked with you was agonizing to hear.

The weight in his chest seems lighter when Belphie is beside him. His twin is calming, can voicelessly feel his turmoil, and always offers an unassuming reprieve to his raw and aching heart. In the familiar attic with the warmth of his brother beside him it’s easy to pretend of your inexistence. When Belphie’s eyes fall shut, however, is when the true weight of your demise dawns upon Beel. No longer sheltered within a façade, he finds himself stranded at the center of a storm, icy memories of your infectious laughter and the glide of your fingers along his flesh whipping his skin raw.

Beel is caught in a tornado of heartache, tumbling out of the past and into a future devoid of your light. The ache of the fall is eternal, thawing through his insides in strikes of relentless agony and sorrow. He tries to adhere to his routine to distract himself then, aiming to not miss any of his Fangol practices. It provides another reprieve: the adrenaline thrumming through his blood, the brief but welcome shot of happiness that accompanies their win.

When the match ends Beel changes out of his sweaty clothes and starts towards the bleachers, lips parted with a breathy grin and body flushed with excitement, but stills halfway, freezing realization creeping through his heart: You weren’t going to be there. Yet his feet pull him over to the benches, to the vacant seat you once occupied. Beel doesn’t know why he sits there, or how long. He just sits, hands resting on the metal arms and tries to see the Devildom moon the way you must have seen it. Maybe if he touches this seat long enough, he’ll be able to identify all the places your fingers had grazed it. Maybe if he thinks about you enough then he’ll have something more than just a past with you.

You were gone and had left your inevitable mark on Beel. His hunger which used to be a means to extinguish the ravenous fire in his stomach has now become a way to fill the chasm that has hollowed his soul neatly through the middle. It is the only healthy way for him to cope with the excruciating pain that throbs through his being every time a whisper of name stumbles upon him.

Guilt plagues his heart then, just like you haunt his soul. Isn’t this emptiness all he has left of you? Isn’t the hollow carving in his heart a sentient reminder of how much you had meant to him? He shouldn’t try to subdue this pain that makes him feel so alive; a pain that feels like his soul has merged with yours.

Was this what you had felt when you had died? Because if so, Beel would gladly claim this pain as his own. He would gladly draw the blood from his body if it meant he could be closer to yours.

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faeleur · 10 months

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part iii! thank you for all your support so far and hopefully you’re enjoying the series! stay tuned for the final part :)

part i. part ii. part iv. masterlist

leviathan x idol!reader: part iii

everything had changed within a few weeks.

during breakfast, you were less talkative and cheerful than usual, but that was overshadowed by levi’s incessant rambling about — you guessed it — the upcoming galaxea concert. asmodeus surprisingly took interest and kept him entertained enough to the point where your quiet demeanor was barely noticeable, easily being written off as tiredness.

throughout the school day, you paid no mind to your professors despite your upcoming exams and final projects as you zoned out, worrying about what you’d have to sacrifice and how you’d possibly make the devildom concerts work without risking your friendship with levi :(

and at dinner, despite beel’s best efforts, you barely touched any food at all and were the first to leave the table, usually saying something along the lines of “need to study.”

your hang-outs with levi slowly stopped as you began to spend every weekday isolated, either practicing in your studio or pulling all-nighters to make up for what you missed in class. levi was sad, of course, but he knew how seriously you took your grades, so he left you be… but he was starting to have his doubts.

it wasn’t so bad at first, but one day, when you didn’t show up to eat at all, the boys just about had it.

“okay, what‘s happening? where the hell are they? this is ridiculous,” mammon said, his eyebrows raising slightly in disbelief.

satan brought his hand to rest on his chin as he thought for a moment. “did anything happen recently to make them withdraw? mammon’s right, for once—“

“hey!”

“—this is unprecedented.”

mammon leaned his chair back, crossing his arms. “i’ll have ya know, i’m a certified y/n behavior expert. usually—”

“no, you’re not. that’s me. who do you think you are?” levi grumbled from across the table.

“oh, then why don’t you—“

“i don’t know! i’m just as surprised as you are!”

“okay, okay, let’s calm down a bit everyone,” asmo exclaimed. “i’m sure it’s just stress from the upcoming exams, and we all know y/n takes their grades very seriously. plus, with the semester break coming up, they may be thinking about going back home for a few weeks, and i can imagine that’d take awhile to plan out, as well.”

levi paled. you? leaving?

i mean, it made perfect sense… earth was definitely more pleasant than the devildom, and it was your home. but…

levi had started to hope that you now considered the devildom your home, too :(

however, if that was the case, levi had just the thing, and he cleared his throat as he excused himself from the table. “i’m gonna go talk to them,” he called as he went to go find you.

as levi’s footsteps echoed throughout the halls of the house of lamentation, he allowed his thoughts to wander, feeling slightly giddy.

while he missed your presence, maybe it was for the better that you had distanced yourself… since he knew he would’ve spoiled his surprise otherwise.

a month had passed since he found out about the surprise galaxea tour, and putting his otaku powers to use, all his sleepless nights had paid off when he managed to get two VIP tickets to the final day of their tour — D2 of their devildom concerts. these tickets included sound check, front row barricade, and backstage… no, he wasn’t going to think about how much they cost. this was the opportunity of a lifetime, and if these weren’t reason enough to make you stay or come back early for break, he didn’t know what was.

that, and it was going to be the perfect moment to tell you about his feelings for you. as one of the first things you bonded over, he was sure of it— he was going to make sure it all was perfect, the whole thing.

quickly reaching your bedroom door, he knocked on it gently, his voice soft as he called your name. “y/n? i know you haven’t been feeling the best lately, so i have a little something for you…”

he waited a few moments, but received no response. he tried again.

“y/n? you okay in there?”

silence.

his eyebrows furrowed as he sighed, turning away. if you weren’t in your room, where were you?

he trudged back to his room, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tried to figure out any possible explanation for your behavior. what if you didn’t like the tickets? he knew it was silly, but now that the idea was in his head he was starting to feel anxious…

his head started to pound, but it was then levi realized that it wasn’t from a headache, but rather from the room to his left… your studio. even with the door shut, he could immediately recognize the song that was playing, and the floor shook every so slightly from the bass.

usually you didn’t let anyone in while you were practicing, but he was your best friend (and had given him exceptions on multiple occasions) and he had a good reason to interrupt. you’d understand, he knew you would.

levi quickly input the four-digit code and felt the tension in the door disappear, quickly swinging it open and entering the room to see you dancing to vega’s solo from galaxea’s latest album… which didn’t have an official choreography yet. were you creating your own? perfect. it was like the stars were aligning.

“y/n, you’re never gonna believe this, but…”

upon realizing his entry, you froze in place and stared at his reflection in the mirror in front of you.

the lyrics of your song echoed throughout the room, a stark contrast to the sweet melody: baby, life is painful sometimes, but your love doesn’t even come close

your breath hitched as you quickly turned to face him, cheeks flushed from the physical activity and from the fact that he caught you.

he grinned, eyes shining as he pulled out his phone to show you the tickets, walking closer… until he noticed the tablet on the ground, recording you.

or… was it a call?

sure enough, the face of a smiling young man, your choreographer, appeared on screen, but he stopped when he noticed the intruder.

“ummm… y/n, who’s that?”

it wasn’t a secret who galaxea’s choreographer was, and you didn’t want to give levi enough time to recognize him. you had to come up with an excuse to make him leave, quick!

“levi… this is my boyfriend.”

that was literally the worst excuse you could’ve made.

you wanted to throw yourself off a cliff for that one

you’d apologize to your choreographer later, as you could hear him snickering in the background, but the important part was that levi actually believed it…

and he did.

in the background, your voice sang: baby, your words are like a knife, why do the best things hurt the most?

levi’s world felt as if it had shattered, raining around him and cutting his skin as it pooled by his feet.

he had to come up with a reply so he could get out of there.

“oh… cool. i’mgonnaleaveyoubenowi’msorrygoodbye,” was what slipped past his lips as he bolted for the door, gone as quickly as he had came.

the minute the door shut you were sinking to the floor, your head in your hands as you let out a groan.

your choreographer erupted into laughter, the audio occasionally breaking here and there.

“i’m sorry, boyfriend? that was the best you could think of?”

“don’t.”

“okay, okay, fine. but you should know i already texted the others about this so come saturday, you will not be living this down.”

there was a brief moment of silence, then:

“you need to be more careful. look, i’m not going to tell you how to live your life, but i’ve worked with a lot of people, and unfortunately, i’ve seen some of them get hurt by who they trusted the most, especially regarding…” he gestured vaguely, “… this.”

you nodded, biting your lip.

“i’ll cut practice short since he’s your friend and i know you wanna go after him, so… from the top. one last time.”

your song restarted, and as you twirled to the rhythm, levi was doing a dance of his own.

“boyfriend ???” he screeched as he mashed the buttons on his controller, mouth open in shock.

“henry, can you believe this? i bet that’s what they were doing every saturday…”

he blanked.

“wait, no, not doing that guy— well, maybe— no, i meant, hanging out with— whatever! what difference does it make?”

he huffed as his body tensed, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“no, i’m not upset. i’m reacting reasonably, don’t you think?”

henry stared at him, deadpan, and levi rolled his eyes.

“shut up.”

his character on screen got knocked over by a series of blows, and he growled in frustration.

“i just don’t know why they never told me.”

his fingers flurried across the buttons, eyes locked on to the screen as his character resumed the fight, and after a few minutes of quiet, he muttered, “i’m so stupid.”

louder, “of course they’d choose that guy over me.”

louder still, “why would i be worthy of them? have you seen me?”

and when his character emerged victorious, the level complete, he shouted, “okay, fine, i’m upset, are you happy?”

and when he turned to face henry, his friend only looked at him sadly as hot tears rolled down his cheeks, splashing onto his thumb and the plastic of his controller. he didn’t even realize he’d been crying.

“i’m so pathetic, aren’t i? i’m a coward. i never had the guts to actually ask them out and look what happened,” he laughed dryly.

“yeah, maybe i overreacted a little, but i was just… hoping…” his voice broke.

“fuck,” he sobbed before trying to turn it into a laugh. “maybe it’s better this way. they’re human. of course they’d have a human boyfriend. since when has the whole human-demon thing ever…”

and then he thought of your pact, his mark resting on the back of your neck…

and as his eyes flared up in envy, his body trembling, he knew one thing:

vega was right. love hurts.

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leviathism · 2 years

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leviathan x gn reader;; shitty levi

It made him upset when you pulled away from his touches.

Leviathan had never been a touchy person. He had always been averse to touch, no matter who it was with. He’d only really tolerate it from Asmo or Mammon and he’d rarely ever be the one to initiate it.

So when you had quickly left him after he tried to hold your hand and sit close by you, he had been angry, sad, and obviously jealous.

You were probably touchy with all his other brothers. He could already imagine you snuggling up to Asmodeus at night or helping Mammon after a scary movie or cuddling Satan as you two read a book.

Why couldn’t you two sit close together when playing a game or watching a show? It made his blood boil. So he decided to watch you with his brothers, ready to snap at any moment you touched them.

Before you had seemed normal to him. You were easy to talk to, to rely on, and you never favored one brother over the others. You were perfect. He hated you.

But then he saw his brothers starting to get annoyed with you. How you always leaned away from Mammon when he accidentally blurted out he loved you for the third time that month or when Asmodeus flirted a little too much in a single conversation. When you declined Lucifer’s offer to expensive restaurants and wanted to go to a more deserted and less expensive place.

And how you tore up any magazine wondering who you had a crush on, whether it be Lucifer, Mammon, or Asmodeus. (Or even the forbidden Belphegor? After killing you, could the two of you find love?)

You never answered any questions. When Lucifer asked if you ever wanted anything more, or when Asmodeus asked what you wanted in a relationship. When Mammon tried to make you play 21 questions with him and you always took a shot on all the deeper more risky questions.

Nobody knew anything deeper about you than what your favorite color and hobby was.

Why don’t you like being touched? That’s what Levi wanted to know.

He saw how you would drag Mammon away from expensive watches he could never afford. But then he saw how you’d slip out from under his arm.

He saw how you let Belphie nap on you if he leaned on you after he fell asleep, but when he was awake? You’d quickly find an excuse to leave.

Nobody could put the moves on you. Even when Beelzebub shared his food with you, you were sure to add “bud” to the end of your sentence when you thanked him.

Leviathan was stumped. And still angry. He didn’t care that you didn’t touch any of his brothers. He still wanted to be the exception. He wanted to be the one you would touch and comfort and love.

He was so busy stewing in his negativity in his room that he was startled when someone shook his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” He looked up and saw you and almost screamed. He jumped out of his skin and you had to catch him to make sure he didn’t slide out of his chair. “Whoa!”

“What are you doing here?” He snarled, wrenching your hands off of him. You dutifully withdrew your hands, staring at him shocked. How dare you be shocked. He almost exploded. He felt like Satan.

“You didn’t answer my texts. And you kept staring at me for the past week, dude. It’s kinda scary.” He’d show you scary. He huffed and looked away, crossing his arms to show how serious he was being. How stone cold he could be. You didn’t want anything to do with him? Fine.

“…”

You uncomfortably shifted, stepping away from his chair. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t answer and instead finally looked at you to glare at you.

You faltered, obviously not expecting that look from him. “Um, I’ll come back later. Bye.”

You were so quick to leave, shutting his door firmly behind you. Just like how he usually asked you to do. He stayed in his spot for a while. He had wanted you to touch him. You had, but not in the way he wanted. He didn’t know what he wanted.

#obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x you #obey me angst #obey me x gn reader #obey me x gn!mc #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x y/n #obey me #leviathan x reader #leviathan angst #it’s implied aro reader but it doesn’t have to be #unfinished sort of

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theabominable · 2 years

Note

Hello, this I don't think is very triggering? But it has some doubting self worth. Could I request Levi x reader where while playing games with him, and reader just randomly asks why he gets so upset at them sometimes? Like they don't sound offended or angry, but there's pain in there voice. And they ask if Levi ever actually liked them at all? (If this doesn't make any sense I'm sorry)

"come on, come back and revive me!" you yell at leviathan, your hands glued to the controller.

"okay, fine!" he yells back, his avatar running back to your fallen one.

you both fall into silence again as you concentrate on the game. it's nighttime at the devildom, and you're sitting beside your boyfriend, levi on a couch, playing some random game like you always do. your relationship is pure and new, there are a few problems here and there, but you've always been willing to work on them just because of how much you like levi.

yet there's something on your mind about a disagreement last night that you can't stop taking over your thoughts.

"hey, levi."

"yeah?"

"why do you get so upset with me sometimes?" you blurt out.

there's not a hint of anger or sadness in your tone, but the complete lack of emotion makes levi loose all focus on the game as he turns his head to you.

"h-huh? where did that come from?"

"i don't know. i was just wondering. do you actually like me at all?" you say, eyes still focused on the screen.

"what? of course i like you? i wouldn't be d-dating you if i didn't?"

but his answer doesn't really satisfy you enough, because you already know he's just going to be randomly upset again and won't communicate with you about it. you sigh and begin to get up.

"y'know, i think i'm just gonna go now, m' pretty tired."

levi's dumbfounded as he watches you, but he catches your hand before you slip away - but immediately blushes afterwards.

"h-hey! please don't go, let's talk about this!"

"i've been trying to talk to you about this for weeks now, levi, but you never want to."

"what do you mean?"

blinking back tears you sit back next to him and try and hide your hurt. you've tried so hard with him but you're not sure if he's even trying too anymore.

"i just.. i feel like you're upset with me all the time and when i wanna talk about it, you just shut up completely and won't talk," you begin.

levi's heart sinks. he really thought everything was going well so far, but he didn't know you felt like this.

"and..i'm meant to be your partner but i feel like you're putting a wall between us when you don't communicate."

but he really didn't mean to. in a moment full of regret, levi reaches out and takes your hand in his and gently strokes it, trying to offer some sort of comfort as your tears fall out. you're taken aback, because he's never been the one to initiate contact like this, but you don't retract your hand.

"listen.. y/n.. i'm sorry. i know it doesn't seem this way but i'm trying really hard because i really, really like you," he's furiously blushing as he said these words but tries his best to maintain eye contact.

"..and i know i really don't deserve someone as special as you but i'm going to try my best for you, o-okay? i promise i'm going to communicate from now on. promise." he shakily says, still stroking your hand.

your tears have stopped and your warm smile is slowly being brought back to your face, because you can hear how genuine he is as he says those words.

"a-and i promise to be the best b-boyfriend you're ever gonna have, got it?"

you both immediately cringe at his words but that doesn't stop you from suddenly latching yourself onto him, hugging him tight.

"w-woah! atleast give me a warning!" he yells but sheepishly hugs you back.

"sorry, i just love you so much."

"i..love you too."

you pull apart from him and flush a little before saying,

"levi.. can i sleep with you tonight?"

"h-huh? what??" he yells, and you swear he's just woken up the whole house.

"not like that!" you laugh, "can i just sleep in your room?"

"o-oh..yeah."

levi scolds himself for ever thinking that way, but forgets about it all once you're curled up on top of him in his bathtub under various duvets and blankets asleep, so warm and soft, and the only thing he thinks before he drifts off to sleep is how lucky he is to score someone like you.

a/n: pov levi learns communication is a great thing

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #om x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me x reader #obey me angst #obey me fluff #leviathan #leviathan x reader #levi x reader #leviathan angst #leviathan fluff #leviathan imagine #om leviathan

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pepperkk · 2 years

Text

random obey me headcanons

Characters: Solomon, Levi, Mammon, Belphie, Beel, Asmo, Barbatos, Luke

+ general hcs

TW: harassment is mentioned once in asmos part

Solomon:

- solomon used to have asthma,, until he made a potion for it to be cured immediately (i feel like he had adhd too)

- Solomon dyes his hair bright neon colours (often green or pink) (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ

- Solomon streams games with no facecam,, Levi watches his streams without knowing its Solomon

- Solomon used to be good at cooking until he accidentally made a potion that made his cooking go bad

- Solomon commonly plays video games

Leviathan:

- Levi likes doing interior design and has designed a few rooms for the brothers

- Levi often makes music,, sometimes gets Satan or Beel to listen to it and recieve feedback (gets advice from Lucifer if hes brave enough)

- Levi gets cold quite easily, but he can't really feel the cold (because hes used to the coldness from the water) but if you touch him, hes ice cold

- Levi sometimes just makes random outfit designs and sews them in his free time when he doesnt want to play/watch anything [will get asmo to wear it]

Mammon:

- At the very start, he was scared of MC... dont ask why

- Mammon often stares at Belphie when hes sleeping next to MC bc he doesnt want to wake him up but at the same time hes too close to MC

Belphie + Beel:

- Belphie sometimes gives himself nightmares as punishment

- Belphie dreams of stargazing with him, Beel and Lilith

- Belphie hums a tune in his sleep (Lucifer likes listening to it)

- Beel vomits when he eats too much since he can't control his appetite

- Beel and Belphie has an animal plushie thats resembles each other and cuddles it when lonely and the other isnt available

Barbatos:

- Barb knows all the little D's names (he has amazing memory)

- Barb used to never sleep in order to fufill his Diavolos needs

- Until he collapsed from exhaustion in front of Diavolo he slept for a week and everything was chaos

- Barb sleeps for 1-2 hours (he canonically wakes up at 2am)

Asmodeus:

- Asmo got Lucifer to wear a skirt at one point and he still has a photo - Lucifer prohibited him from showing anyone

- Asmo gives the brothers skin care products every time for their birthday (it's in goodwill and they're all very expensive)

- He was once harassed in public because hes the avatar of lust and thought he would enjoy it (the demon is now dead)

- Asmo and Satan has weekly nights where they vent/rant about something while doing skin care with each other and it often turns into a therapy session

Luke:

- Luke sometimes gets nightmares of Simeon falling (and himself sometimes)

- Luke once had a friend who was an angel but they fell and he then blamed the demons

- Luke's favourite dessert is a shortcake

Other:

- Pact marks gets burning hot then numb when the feeling of sin is overwhelming

- Devildom gets major temperature changes one day itll be snowing, then the next itll be boiling

- All animals in devildom are actually dead ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎

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olivyh · 2 years

Text

Not Enough- Leviathan Angst

A/N: Also getting this put into a magazine from school so if anyone from school sees this I did not plagiarize this fanfic Ijust edited it so I didn’t put fanfic into a school project ;;;;; also this is basically a rant because if there’s any one sin that i feel the most out of the seven, it is definitely envy (which i, as stated in the fic, hate)

TW: Mentions of insecurity, hints of self harm, Levi is sad a lot, hints of skin picking, escapism as a coping mechanism

Leviathan was never enough.

He had spent countless nights sobbing into the pillows within his cold, cold tub, gripping onto the ceramic for dear life as he wailed about just how not enough he was, grieving the loss of what he could be had he not been dragged down by the bitter poison that runs through his veins; determining his fate as Envy incarnate. He prayed to anyone who would listen to relieve him of this heavy burden that weighed down on him whenever he left the house, forced to endure the outside world. Envy burnt deep within the vessels of his heart and tore at his mind until he would collapse, begging for it to end, pleading for his suffering to cease so he could feel free of the lead within his chest for once in a millennia. He wanted to be liberated from the agony caused by his own mind so desperately that he craved it more than any meal. Would it be so horrible if he felt satisfied with himself? Would it be a worse sin for him to look at himself in the mirror and smile for once?

Envy was his destiny, and he believed it to be the worst of them all. As much as he had talked down on his brother, he was just as greedy. He wanted more. He wanted to be more than what he was. He wanted any other sin besides his own that was forced upon him. Envy was too heavy a sin for him to carry on his own, legs shaking beneath him and heart weighed down with unspoken grievances against the person he once was, and the person he had the potential to be. He was so, so tired of trying to be better than what he was because deep, deep down he knew that it would never be enough for him, no matter how differently he dressed or acted or how much he hid who he really was; a selfish man donning a cruel mask, a bitter role he was born to play.

Everyone had something that he wanted, no- something he needed. If he didn't have it, then who was he, really? What was he worth? What was any of his life worth is he could not be everyone else?

He chose to isolate himself in the depths of his own mind, left isolated from everyone who cared with heartless retorts and annoyed comments made in a state created by the heavy chains that he wore with shame, digging into his flesh and weighing him down with every resentful step he took. He knew all too well what it was like to suffer at the hands of your own cruel mind. That knowledge made way to the comfort that he felt in the suffering, and the agony that realization had brought with it.

Levi hated his sin more than anything. He was once told that his sin encompassed all the others- that they were intertwined in a way. He understood. He hated that he understood.

He wanted more and more and more and more, he was greedy and a glutton for attention, a glutton for concern and praise. One compliment was never enough, because how many did this person get? Leviathan thinks they had to have gotten more, and surely that single compliment was one made out of pity.

He would conceal himself in the blankets that held the embroidery of the beliefs that he could not be what he so desperately wished to attain that he would shut down completely, neglecting his schoolwork. He was slothful.

He was lustful in the sense that he desired a life that was not his, to have a body that was not his. This desire that led him to many nights in front of his mirror, picking himself apart until he would cover it with a blanket, eyes brimming with unshed tears and fragile body decorated with fresh marks.

And above all, he was too prideful to admit that everyone else has the same flaws that he does, that everyone else carries the same burden because he is the one who has to be always suffering, no?

But, while the other sins bore sweet fruits from their laborious efforts, Levi's did not. It left him as empty as he had started, often left alone once more to sulk in the silence of his room. He would lose what he held dear.

Whereas the other sins bore those delicious fruits, Envy would burn down the tree that allowed those fruits to blossom.

He was endlessly bitter, hostile towards anyone who asked should his sin be taking advantage of his weakened self-esteem. Questions would be answered in terse mutters and sharp glares, despite the tug in his heart, the normal Levi begging the Envy in control to leave those he cared for be, that he can hurt himself but he cannot bear to push another person away. He would claw at the mass in control, gripping into it's inky spirals and pulling with every ounce of strength that he had despite fighting this battle millions of times before, knowing all too well that it will end in him becoming further consumed by the poison.

Everything with Levi was a competition.

Despite how much he hated it, how much he sobbed after pushing everyone away because they had what he wanted, and that was not good for the man. The flames of anger that would coil within him at any given moment when someone had what was his, something that he so desperately needed that he could feel the slick scales of his sin crawl down his throat and suffocate him from the inside out. The thick coils of Envy that wrapped tighter and tighter around his lungs, tempting the organs to burst with every strangled gasp the man had dared to take.

He had to be the best, didn't they understand? Levi could barely understand it himself. He could barely think straight at every given moment, staring at everyone who was what he wasn't, every other thought laced with the thick tendrils of jealousy that warped his mind and constricted, pulling tighter and tighter until he either locked himself away again or allowed those coils of wrath to burst, destroying everything in sight. Burning the tree to the ground.

And so he locked himself away. The outside world a mere illusion as he consumed mindless entertainment, feeling as though he'd been allowed to sink into a warm bath after trudging through the arctic for centuries the second the screen flicks to life. He could breathe, the Envy within him satiated for once; a tamed beast put to rest.

He didn't have to compete here. He could be a hero, he could be everything that he wanted to be. He could be strong, caring, determined, confident, anything he could ever dream of being. He was effortlessly handsome, his skin flawless for once as he no longer would have to pick at it in an anxious fit, the scars of countless years of picking and picking and tearing at the delicate skin erased and with them, the memories of those long and dreary nights. He was strong, he could protect his brothers just as they had protected him. He could speak his mind and he could protect those he loved. In his fantasies, Leviathan would not be pushed off to the sidelines, trembling and scrambling to come up with some semblance of a thought, some stammers that resembled half a sentence.

after such events, he would race back to his room, throwing his headphones over his head and curling up on the frigid tile floor, sobbing into his unwashed hoodie- his only solace when he leaves his room- as he grasps for any coherent thought in his jealousy-induced panic. His insecurities, bred by his sin that festered deep within his soul, swimming in his mind, burning holes into the truths about him. Those same truths, uttered during quiet nights with his brothers or texted to him by his best friend in the early hours of the morning, were useless to him. For what good is truth when they are shrouded by the lies of your own sin?

He hated his envious nature. Despised how horrible he would feel glaring at people who did nothing wrong to him, their only crime being different than he was, being somehow better than him.

Punishable by absolute isolation and complete silence on his end for days at a time.

Levi knew he was practically throwing tantrums, but he couldn't control it. He wanted so much, he needed so much that he could not have; fleeting moments that would fly past his fingertips the second he reached out for them, fading into the wind as they carried them far, far away from the boy. Leaving him alone in the abyss of jealousy, surrounded by the fires that would forever burn away at his heart and keep his dreams locked deep within.

For the first time in his life, Levi felt as though he was drowning. Sinking further and further into the void of his insecurities and fears, each and every spark of Envy dragging him further down, a serpents tail wrapped around his ankle as it pulled, pulled, pulled him into depths that he had not been made aware of. Depths that were leagues deeper than he had ever dared to explored. What day will be his breaking point? What minor flaw will be enough to shatter the illusion that he was okay, that he could handle it? When would he be enough? Would he meet his own standards? How much of himself will he have to tear at until there was nothing left but what he saw as utter perfection? Will his sin allow him the brief respite should he meet that standard, or what he stuck in an endless loop of crazed jealousy?

He wanted to scream, to kick, to wail until someone turned to him and told him that he was enough.

Though, Levi thinks, would I truly believe them if they told me?

And thus was his sin, perpetually satisfied in perpetual dissatisfaction.

#obey me #obey me levi #levi #leviathan #obey me angst #obey me fanfic #leviathan angst #obey me character study #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #levi is sad #levi angst #devildom

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gothgeek1997 · 6 days

Text

Obey Me Texts: Leviathan Almost Killed Mammon?! (Part 1)

#obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me boys #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me texts #mammon angst #Leviathan angst #hurt/comfort #prank

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amaya-writes · 2 years

Text

The Obey Me Brothers And Their Worst Nightmares Pt 2 (Levi, Satan, Asmo)

Part 1: Lucifer and Mammon Part 2: Levi, Satan and Asmo Part 3: Beel and Belphie

Notes: It took me way longer than expected to get the second part out.

Warnings: not really any warnings but it’s just sad ig, sort of body dysmorphia/distortion in Asmo's

Characters involved: Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus

Leviathan

He was on another gaming roll.

Leviathan was a demon known for his tendency to remain in his room for hours on end, but even so he would find himself at least texting his brothers once in a while to check up on them.

However, this time, the lure of a new game was strong enough to make Levi lock himself away as he faced one level after the other, battling dragons and losing himself in the game.

Yet as he leaned back into his gaming chair and stared in satisfaction at the big bold 'game over' plastered across his screen, Leviathan found himself finally thinking of something outside of his room.

Or more specifically, the six demons no doubt scattered across the house who absolutely needed to know about his new game and the way he had perfectly crossed every level.

In his haste to switch off the computer and leave his room, Levi hadn't even bothered to think of using his phone like he normally would.

Instead, he found himself excitedly racing towards the kitchen where he was sure to find at least one of his brothers.

However, what he hadn't expected was to find all of them.

"What are you all-"

Levi found himself coming to a stop as soon as he began to make his way toward the kitchen, noticing how all of his brothers were seated in their respective seats at the table.

The sight usually would have made him feel angered at the thought of not being called down with everyone else, however, Levi instead felt a wave of envy and sorrow as his eyes settled on the first seat at the left of the table.

His seat. That was occupied by someone he didn't know.

The demon seated there was beautiful, looking like one of those protagonists from an anime, yet with the way he steadily held a conversation with Satan about what seemed like some academic debate made it clear he had beauty and brains.

He was muscular but not awfully so, smart yet with a hint of humour, beautiful but in a way that was subtle.

He was everything Leviathan was not.

He was the perfect brother, and as Levi ran a shaky hand through his hair to further cover his face and hide his visible distress, he realised the strange demon was him.

Or yet, a replacement for him. A much better one.

As Levi backtracked and let his feet carry him to the front door, he realised that maybe it was a good thing that he had locked himself away in his room for so long.

Because Leviathan couldn't bear to see the image of everything he was not replace him.

Especially not when that was everything he wanted to be.

Satan

"Lucifer."

The name surrounded him, consumed him even.

It stole the breath from his lungs and the voice from his throat, forcing Satan to watch as the crowd around him thickened. And apparently, so did the glass blocking him from cursing them.

"Lucifer!"

Their voices got higher, desperate even, with the crowd now shoving against each other as one face after the other appeared to sneak a glimpse into his glass cage and say the same thing as before.

"-Lucifer's creation."

The way he banged against the glass didn't seem to faze the crowd, if anything, Satan's wrath only seemed to heighten their excitement.

"His child."

Their chatter picked up at the words, yet all Satan could focus on was the raven-haired demon standing at the back of the room before him.

His hair was ruffled, tie loosened and shirt wrinkled, yet even so there was no mistaking the way the avatar of pride stood at the back of the room with a smirk that told Satan everything his words couldn't.

That he was just a reaction, an accident.

Lesser than.

The others were all avatars of sin, all fallen angels who fought in wars and became bold demons. Yet he was just the result of Lucifer's wrath and resentment.

Was being the result of Lucifer's anger, being created by him, the only thing Satan would ever amount to?

Asmodeus

It was dark.

Why was his room so dark?

Asmodeus had specifically installed the perfect room lighting to ensure that his room was always ready to be used for yet another one of his photoshoots.

The mere thought had him quickly rising from the bed, ready to be faced with the vanity mirror that would showcase his beautiful face.

However, Asmodeus's daily routine of pampering himself with compliment about his beauty was cut short by the sudden scream that cut through the room.

It took him a moment to realise the scream was of his own, and another to comprehend just what had caused such a horrified reaction.

He looked horrifying.

Asmodeus's face was unsymmetrical, with his usually perfect nose and lips stretching to the sides almost comically while his eyes drooped low in a fashion that had the champagne-haired demon letting out yet another scream.

It was like one of those clown mirrors in a circus, except it wasn't. For it was not the mirror before him that was distorted, but Asmodeus himself.

"What's with the ruckus, Asmo?"

By the time Satan raced through his door, Asmodeus had already begun to sob as his fingers raced across his face, pushing at random patches of skin and crying even more as he realised how dry and cracked it felt.

"I- I look horrendous!"

Satan cocked his head to the side at his brother's words before letting out a sigh that had Asmodeus's heart clenching, and not in a good way.

"What do you mean? You look like this all the time."

His words were all Asmodeus needed to drive himself over the edge, causing him to let out a louder, more horrified scream as he kneeled over on his bed.

He was ruined.

For Asmodeus, beauty was the only thing important in the world.

Beauty wasn't just about vanity, it was a way of coping for him. A way to tell himself the fall hadn't changed his perfection, if anything, it had solidified it.

The fall had allowed Asmodeus to explore a part of himself he had to previously hide away.

He just hadn't realised the change would result in having to hide himself away.

Asmodeus wasn't just his body, he knew that, yet as he sunk further into his bed he couldn't help but feel like he had just lost himself. After all, without his beauty, he was nothing.

Asmodeus, the avatar of lust and fifth of the notorious demon brothers, was nothing.

The champagne-haired demon had always thought of immortality as a blessing to enjoy himself for the rest of eternity, yet as his eyes slipped shut and breathing began to slowly even out, he couldn't help but hope he wouldn't wake up again.

After all, what was the point in living a life void of beauty?

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yuumaofc · 2 years

Text

Yeah I make Gacha things, this is probably gonna make me lose followers but idc since I’m happy doing whatever tf I want without anyone’s opinion but take this mammon/Lucifer/leviathan angst and be happy with it since I can’t think of anything rn because brain still go beep bop big sad not good times :(

#obey me #yuuma rambles #mammon angst #lucifer angst #leviathan angst #mammon dies D:#Lucifer cries :|#and so does Levi(kinda)

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lovetei · 8 months

Note

Okay, this have been on my mind for a while now…

So! MC in the manga is a sheep (get turn into a sheep because they aren’t familiar with the magic? Idk). I was just wondering that at the end of the exchange programme how would the boys react to Mc’s “true form”

This is such an interesting thing to write 🖤

By the way, this is another request stuck in my drafts, I promise I'll try to make up for it and post more :')

--------------------------------------------------

Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, no proofreading, wrong grammar, spelling errors, kind of long

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

It was the end of the exchange program and he's seeing you off

A large portal behind your back

For you, it might be the portal that will lead you to the freedom and whatever normality this program took away from you for a whole year

The portal that you've been waiting for

But for him, it's nothing but a spiral of magic that takes away the only comfort he has

The comfort that he seek for

And his twisted heart aches whenever he remembers it

But he hides it off with a smile and a wave

He waved at you one last time before you turned around

"Uhm... I feel weird-"

What?

The extreme feeling of despair left his body for a second and was covered with confusion

That soon turned into worry as your sheep form completely fell to the ground

The noises you're making is not normal and they're all panicking because they've never heard of it before

And the fact that you started glowing didn't ease their mind.

Could it be that some higher demon planted some spell inside of you?

IS THAT SPELL SUCCESFUL?!-

MC..?

He looked at you shock

No, more like-

He looked at your new form, shocked.

The way your naked body is laying on the ground right in front of him...

Right in front of them..?

He can't help but sigh and thought that, everything would have been fine, perfect even, if you turned into this form in front of him

But no, you just have to turn into your original self in front of everyone

Now he can't even embrace you.

All he did was take his coat off and throw it to your body as his face flush red.

You turned around to look at them as you clutch his coat with that adorable expression before you run off and enter the portal

He's left there, shocked and speechless

He didn't know what the hell just happened

But what's he's sure of is that he's going to get you back

And you're going to show that expression to him one more time

But that time, it will just be the two of you, alone.

MAMMON

This man is bawling his eyes out

His original plan is to watch you leave as he cries and once you're gone he will walk it off like a real man, with tear stains of course.

He set his mind to it, gambling for the whole week after you leave so that he can forget you

Even for just a moment

But no,

You won't even let him have the peace of mind

Or leave him with a nice memory

Instead your sheep body dropped to ground and made everyone think that you're about to die!

But you know what more you did?

You turned into a human!

Your human form!

Naked!

He went from 😭 -> 🤨 -> 😮 -> 😭 -> 😳 in a mere minute

He just stood there with a flushed face

A blushing dumbass who don't know what to do but watch as Lucifer threw his coat on you

And watch you run away with that cute expression, embarrassed expression on your face.

Gosh

You drive him insane

Now he's all fired up, willing to destroy the mortal world just to get you back in his arms.

LEVIATHAN

This one too is bawling his eyes out

While holding his camera of course

He's filming every part of this

He's standing there like "WAHHH MCCC! W-Wait is the angle r-right..? I need to capture how b-beautiful MC is..." while sobbing words out.

His hands are holding the camera shakily but the movement suddenly stopped when you said you feel weird...

His eyes shot open and his tears stopped

Are you okay..?

. . .

He's malfunctioning the moment you dropped to the ground and started to glow

And he malfunctioned even more when you turned into your human born, as naked as the moment you were born.

Now his sniper instincts came in and the camera is as focused as a laser

He's staring at you wide eyed, face as red as a tomato and his mouth agape

He doesn't know what's happening

But what he's sure of is that he needs to film it

Everything

The moment you grabbed Lucifer's coat and hugged it to cover yourself

And the moment you stood up and looked at them with that cute expression

But the moment you left, he hid the camera

This film is for his eyes only...

He's gonna need this for a 'project'...

And you know what else he needs?

Tissues.

SATAN

He's smiling everything off as he watches you leave

But you know deep down some anger is boiling

Considering how hot his pact mark is getting

Because, why do you have to leave..? Did he fail to satisfy your standards..?

He can't help but roll his eyes internally

But in the middle of his self talk, you spoke

"I kind of... Feel weird-"

And then you dropped to the ground and he's suddenly panicking

Any other feeling except for confusion flushed out of his body

He ran up to you immidiately but the light dimmed down and your naked body lay before him

He can't help stop in his tracks and just look at you and blush

Before he can even register anything, Lucifer's coat is already hugging your body

Which causes another wave of wrath to hit him

He just glared at Lucifer and saw that he's not even paying attention to him

He's looking at you

With a foreign expression in his face

So he also looked at you and...

Why the fuck did you have to look so majestic..?

You met his gaze and your face flushed before you ran out and entered the portal

He just remained still

Looking at the ground where you once sat

He can't move, he's shaking so much...

He feels like he's about to explode...

ASMODEUS

"WAHHH MCCC!" He whined out as he openly sobbed

He loves you so much!

Just why do you have to leave him!

He can't help but pout at you as you say your final goodbye

But what about him?

Why do you have to leave him too!

I mean it's understandable that you want to leave them because they're all such nuisances to you why him?!

He can't help it-

What do you mean you're feeling weird?

He's slowly walking to your direction

But you started to glow..?

Suddenly he's bearing his teeth expecting enemies around

Oh wait...

Oh...

You're...

Naked...

His mind is scrambled

He completely stopped working

And he'll probably be out of service for the next few days.

BEELZEBUB

He's probably standing there with Belphie in his arms

He's giving you his infamous puppy smile hoping that you'll give him what he wants

Hoping that you'll fall for it like the usual and ran up to him an dsay he's cute instead of leaving

But there's a part in his heart that knows you won't

He's sad and happy at the same time

He's happy because you'll finally live the way you do back then

But he's sad because you have to leave to do so...

Huh?

You're feeling weird..?

You're glowing, MC!

He's shaking Belphegor awake now

What's happening to you-

. . .

He'll be one of the most respectful and cover his eyes

But he's secretly peaking through the gaps

Your flushed face...

Looks so cute...

You look...

You looked delicious...

Just enough to eat...

Now he's hungry.

Hungry for something... New?

Something that includes you.

BELPHEGOR

He's awake actually

He watched everyone, he heard everyone gave their final speeches to you

But when you were about to leave

He forcefully shut his eyes and leaned on Beel

Hoping that his sin would take over and he fell into some deep slumber

But why of all times... Why isn't it cooperating..?

His brows are furrowed as he forces himself to sleep

But suddenly everyone dropped silent...

So you finally left?

Wha- why is Beel shaking him?-

MC?!

Why the fuck are you glowing now?!

No no no...

Is it the work of some demon?!

Who-

. . .

You're... Naked...

In front of everyone...

Haha...

Beel better hold him back or else he's about to run after you and do what his brothers can't

But he knows you won't like that.

So he clinged to Beel-

Haha...

Why do you look like that?!

That's his last thought before he ran and almost caught you but the portal closed

Immidiately.

"Hmm... What a shame~"

He'll make sure he'll catch you next time.

#obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me crack #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me smut #obey me suggestive #obey me sheep mc

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rashomonss · 1 year

Text

Readjusting

context: just a few somewhat angsty headcanons I have for when MC and Solomon return to the present after everything, enjoy!!

warnings: this does contain nightbringer spoilers

the past changes people

MC will often become more hesitant to talk to or even engage with the brothers. Due to being treated as an attendant in the past they now are used to it, so whenever one of the brothers tries to engage with them they find it hard to sit still or listen to said brother for long periods of time without feeling out of place.

MC will often mix up the fact that they are an exchange student rather than an attendant. When Diavolo claims that he wants MC to feel comfortable as an exchange student MC will respond with something along the lines of how they don’t need much because they’re the brothers attendant. Which in return gets a few confusing stares from others.

MC still carries out some of their duties as an attendant unconsciously. Such as keeping track of the brother’s schedules, events, student council meetings, etc. The brothers don’t mind at first however what they do find unpleasant is the fact MC always follows behind them instead of right beside them like they used too. This doesn’t register until one of them says something to MC, which they in turn respond with “I always follow behind all seven of you”. Which makes their hearts sink.

Still focusing on the attendant duties, MC will still continue to carry out anything asked of them without much of a fight. Since they were so used to carrying out such elaborate things when watching over the brothers in the past they are now used to doing such tasks for them. Most of the time this will confuse most of the brothers because MC is usually more vocal with their opinion on something.

MC will unconsciously be a bit harsher and stricter on the brothers than they usually were. Since being their attendant MC had to keep each of them on a tight leash so they wouldn’t get into trouble. So now in the present if they were to start fighting MC would be the first to show up to scold them instead of Lucifer.

MC will just straight up be petty with Lucifer for a while. Due to the things he said while they were in the past they still haven’t completely forgiven him. So whenever Lucifer mentions his “family”, MC finds themselves saying some remark along the lines of “well that doesn’t include me” or “just the seven of you I know. I leave you all alone” is enough to confuse and hurt the hell out of him. MC knows that Lucifer does really care for them in this timeline, but they can’t help it. His words really did hurt them deeply for awhile.

On another topic of MC’s attitude, Diavolo soon realizes that they are much more formal with him. The cute nickname Dia was dropped and he was always referred to by a title now. When Diavolo questioned them about formality MC simply explained that the past Barbatos didn’t like them referring to Diavolo in such a manner.

MC is now more vigilant around Satan, Belphegor and Barbatos, each for different reasons.

Satan is one that worries MC the most because they became used to having to deal with his violent outbursts and destructive episodes. So when Satan gets angry in the present MC will step in front of him and the brothers separating them. Satan soon grows confused when MC prepares a spell to restrain him.

Belphegor doesn’t worry MC as much as the other two, but after he found out they were a human in the past and tried to kill them again in response MC had to remain vigilant. They still do whenever they are alone with him. Which in turn makes the youngest guilty about the past.

Barbatos is someone MC keeps Solomon away from at all costs. After all MC was used to Barbatos teleporting the sorcerer around from place to place. It did become concerning when Solomon would show up later and later each time he came home. So to avoid that MC would make themselves and Solomon avoid the butler at all costs. However the present butler soon finds this behavior hurtful when MC constantly declines his offer to come over. In the end MC has a hard time remembering that this isn’t the past Barbatos.

Many soon noticed the strong bond MC now has with Solomon and of course they all become jealous. At first they noticed how MC would go to him for little things, or just prefer to be around him more, but when they asked about moving in with him rather than staying in the House of Lamentation it threw everyone for a loop. It made it even worse when MC said they’ll be there to help the brothers every morning like usual. They wanted MC to realize that they’re an exchange student not an attendant.

Many also notice how reliant they are on Solomon for certain things. Sometimes MC just needs Solomons presence in a room to be able to feel comfortable. If not MC will then become slightly annoyed or fidgety.

Solomon becomes more protective over MC without even realizing it. If he believes one of the brothers are being too bothersome to MC he will step in and whisk them away.

Solomon finds it easier to steal MC’s attention away now. Before when he would try and drag them away from the brothers, or even try and steal their attention for just a second it always failed. However with how close they both became in the past, if Solomon interrupts a conversation MC is having with the brothers MC finds themselves listening to him a bit more than the brother they were speaking with.

MC is much more reckless and blunt with their decision making now. Before they were a bit more collected with their thoughts. However being in the past made their impulsive decision making become a habit. Thus causing the brothers to sometimes question MC methods.

MC would often question the brothers as to why they weren’t in their demon forms. They suppose they just got used to seeing them in those outfits for so long now it became the norm.

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer spoilers #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me angst #obey me nightbringer angst

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another-lost-mc · 4 months

Note

Okay but what if, before MC is taken to the future by nightbringer, they had a big fight with the brothers?

Like, they fought about something and said something along the lines 'go away' ' I don't want to see you', but then, when you don't return they start feeling guilty.

At first they'll think you're angry and don't want to talk with them, but when time passes and you don't return they start to get so worried, looking everywhere for you, regretting that the, possibly, last words they said to you were harsh confrontation.

The angst potential 😭😭 how do you think each of the bros would react?

😈🍬 anon

a/n: well, nightbringer sure is a blessing for angst fans.

the worst goodbye | the demon brothers

2.8k words | gn!reader | sfw | angst

cw: mentions of lesson 16 in belphie's part.

Lucifer goes to his office and pretends that he's not angry. He attempts to distract himself with paperwork, but all he does is read the same paragraph a few times over and over again before he throws the page down with a huff. He taps his pen against his desk while he sifts through the emotions clouding his mind. All he felt earlier was wounded pride—that's why he scolded you with more force than necessary, speaking with his cruel, barbed tongue but regretting it just as quickly. He admires and loathes your feisty temper. You're his stubborn, brave little human that stands up to him when most demons wouldn't dare to try.

He plans his apology like a mantra and goes to your room; he knows if he's sincere, you'll give him a chance to make things right. You don't answer your door when he knocks, and he peeks his head inside to confirm that you're not there. He sends you a message with his D.D.D. and shuffles awkwardly in the hallway while he waits for a reply. He asks in the family group chat, but no one's seen you recently and he ignores the initial tendrils of icy fear that make his chest feel tight. Surely you wouldn't have stormed off in a sulk? But he checks the rest of the house and his brothers realize slowly that something is wrong—you wouldn't just leave. Lucifer searches for you himself, around the House of Lamentation and all around the Devildom, searching for anyone that might've seen you, or any hint of where you've gone. But in the early twilight hours, he pours a glass of Demonus that remains untouched while he stares absently into the fire of his private study. His heart freezes over in your absence. Your warmth thawed his icy demeanor, and the roaring fire crackling nearby can't stop the chills that wrack through him when he tells himself that you're gone and he has no one to blame but himself.

You rarely fight with Mammon these days, but when you do, it spirals out of control. He spits out scathing remarks about how he's sick of you trying to pry your nose into his business because he hates admitting that you're right. You try so desperately not to yell (or cry, or both) when you plead with him to forget about whatever risky scheme he's got planned. It's not worth risking Lucifer's wrath and whatever punishment lies in store when Mammon's plan inevitably fails to his own detriment. He stalks away and ignores the sound of your voice cracking in pain when you call his name one last time—and maybe if he were less incensed, he would stop and turn around and apologize. But today he feels particularly stubborn and he doesn't look back. He fully intends on leaping in his car and driving off into the night to burn off some steam, but he slumps against his bedroom door with his head in his hands and tries to remember why he was so angry with you to begin with. He can't pinpoint the reason and he knows you only have his best intentions at heart.

It feels like hours later when he ends up outside your door, head down and tail tucked firmly between his legs. He shouts through the wood when you don't answer and he swears he didn't mean it, that he'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. You're too patient and kind and loving for your own good, and he tempts fate every time he takes your forgiveness for granted. He opens the door and scratches his head in confusion when he realizes you're not there. He spots one of his brothers at the end of the hall, and his confusion sours into something ashy on his tongue when he asks him where you are. I haven't seen them—we all thought they were with you!

Leviathan plays his game, tapping the buttons on his handheld with more force than necessary, as simmering anger from your fight earlier darkens his mood. He didn't mean to forget about your lunch date, so why did you get so mad? Maybe calling you a worse nag than Lucifer was over the top, but he planned on making it up to you later! He gets lost in his thoughts and plays his game until he realizes it's been a couple hours and his D.D.D. has been surprisingly silent. Sometimes you message him and invite him to talk things out in your room once you've both had time to calm down. He has no idea what it means that you've ignored him all this time and when he tries to message you first, they go unanswered. He shuffles to your room guiltily and hopes you'll be willing to talk face-to-face. It's almost dinner time, and maybe if you're feeling up to it, he can take you out for dinner. He even canceled his raid tonight so he can spend the evening curled with you on the sofa watching movies instead.

He doesn't expect to hear a commotion as he walks down the stairs to the first floor, and his brothers are crowded outside your room in various states of panic. Lucifer sees him and rushes to explain what's going on, but the words turn to radio static in Levi's head. He doesn't even notice that he drops his D.D.D. and it clatters to the ground, cracking the corner of the plastic case you gave him as a present not too long ago. Instead of cuddling with you on the sofa that night, he curls around his body pillow in the tub, his tail twitching noisily against the porcelain while he buries his head and deafens his whimpers in the tear-stained cotton. Come back, come back, please come back—

When the rage subsides, Satan glances wearily around his room and the terrible mess he's made. Some of his favourite books are ripped and torn to shreds across the floor, but the sight hurts less than the memory of your heartbroken face crumpling in pain as you fought back tears. He's done many terrible things in his life he's not proud of, but insinuating you don't care about him might be the lowest blow he could use during a fight. You've only wanted what's best for him, and you try so hard to show the world that he's more than the violent, angry creature that lurks deep inside him.

If only the world could see you the way I do.

Regret quickens his steps and he leaves the broken chaos in his room to find you because he shouldn't have even let you go. Why did it take him so long to apologize? He doesn't deserve it, but if you'll only give him a chance, he swears to himself he'll make it up to you. He hastily wipes away the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes when he notices his brothers lingering outside your room. They're too distraught to notice the sharp bite in his words when he demands to know what's going on and where you are. Nothing they say makes any sense—you wouldn't just leave, right? He’s the first to tear through the house in a panic to find you, ignoring his brothers’ nervous pleas for him to calm down. You're nowhere to be found and eventually he returns to his room in a trance. No one knows how long he stands there, trembling with regret and shame and fury that someone or something dared take you away from him. All his brothers know, judging by the noise echoing through the halls, is that his room is nearly destroyed as he unleashed his heartbreak in a maelstrom of destructive rage.

Asmodeus takes another selfie and posts it on Devilgram. He hopes the notification will pop up on your D.D.D. and you'll see him having the time of his life at The Fall. He wants you to see it—he hopes it fills you with regret for arguing with him earlier. He doesn't fight with you often, but your tongues are both sharp and laced with venom when you do face off against each other. He enjoyed the anxious gleam in your eye when he backed you into a wall and leaned down so you were nearly nose-to-nose, the sweet scent of his lip gloss lingering in the gap between you while he cooed about how pathetic you looked. But that was almost an hour ago, and he can only pretend for so long that he doesn't regret leaving you stunned and hurt in the front hall when he waltzed out the door and slammed it behind him. The pounding music can't drown out the wicked things he said to you, and the crowd can't distract him from your absence that weighs heavily in his heart. There are many demons nearby who'd kill for his attention, but he knows deep down that the only hands he wants roaming over his body are yours.

It's not long after that he pushes his way out of the club and into the cool night air, but he still hasn't heard from you. Surely you've seen his Devilgram posts by now? You're smart enough to recognize his desperate ploys for attention. Your attention. Are you ignoring him on purpose? Maybe he deserves it, but he's anxious to talk to you and sends you a message on his walk home anyway. Message could not be delivered. The red text pops up on his screen, and he frowns and tries again. Message could not be delivered. He quickens his pace as he taps your contact name and calls you instead. Is there something wrong with your D.D.D.? "The number you have dialed is not in service."

He breaks into a run until the House of Lamentation peeks into view ahead. He bursts through the door and ignores Lucifer's angry shouts behind him as he rushes down the hall to your room, but all he sees is one of your favourite club outfits laid out on your bed, as if you were getting ready to come see him after all. Where are you? His brothers hover behind him and he borrows one of their phones so he can try calling you again. He tells himself that it must be a problem with his D.D.D. because no other explanation makes sense. "The number you have dialed is—" Asmo whimpers pitifully while he listens to the robotic voice drone on speaker for everyone to hear, and his brothers finally realize that something is wrong and split up to search for you. He chokes out your name and slumps onto your bed, inhaling your familiar scent when he holds your shirt, one that he bought you, to his face and sobs. He can hear his brothers' heavy footfalls throughout the house while they look for you, but deep down, he already knows you're gone.

Beel glances at the stands and wipes sweat and dirt from his brow. He can spot his brothers easily enough—it's hard to miss them, with the way Asmo's waving the glittery handmade sign with his name in bold pink lettering—but he doesn't see you. There's an empty space between Mammon and Levi where you normally sit, and they've kept it free for when—if—you show up. You've never missed one of his games, not ever. Maybe the argument earlier upset you more than he realized. He knows you don't normally eat his food on purpose. He knows you meant it when you sputtered apologies when you realized your mistake. He knows how hurt you were when he shouted at you in a hungry rage. The rest of the game passes by in a blur. He moves on autopilot, his mood growing more and more despondent each time he checks the crowd and realizes you're still not there. He barely recognizes his team's happy cheers when the game ends in victory. He has a quick shower and makes his excuses to his teammates because he already has plans for dinner tonight, with you, hopefully. He stops by Hell's Kitchen and picks up your favourite takeaway order and heads home. It's a peace offering, one of many apologies he owes you.

By the time he knocks on your door, he's eager to see you. Silence. He knocks again and waits, and he hesitantly pushes the door open when his greeting goes unanswered. You're not in your room, and after a quick search of the house, he realizes you're not anywhere. He visits your room over and over again as if you'll finally pop out and tell him you were just teasing him, because you wouldn't ever leave him on purpose, right? His name on a handmade sign on your bed, and one of his old jerseys he gave you, are all that you left behind and he wonders if he would've been able to stop you leaving had he come home to you sooner. (Your takeaway dinner remains uneaten in the fridge in case you come back, and Beel refuses to eat it himself or let anyone else eat it either. One of his brothers has to throw it away when it eventually turns rancid—Beel can't bring himself to do it, because it means admitting you may never come back.)

Belphie doesn't like sleeping alone. Most nights if he sleeps alone, it's by choice—his choice. Tonight should've ended like most nights do: with the both of you sharing the bed in the attic. He sleeps better when you're close. You're a warm weight curled against him, and the smell of your shampoo and your minty breath are small comforts when he has bad dreams. Sometimes he wakes up in a panic, his shirt damp with cold sweat, and he listens for your quiet snores, proof that you're alive, that the nightmare of your windpipe crushed in his deadly grip isn't real. Belphie sleeps in the attic alone tonight because you decided you needed space. It's petty revenge for earlier when he woke up from a nap in a foul mood and snapped at you in his frustration. He fluffs his pillow and his bottom lip juts out in a pout. He can't get comfortable and it's your fault. The house grows quiet as his brothers retire to their rooms and fall asleep, and Belphie senses when you finally drift off to sleep too. If he wakes up before you tomorrow, he'll crawl into your bed and hope that you'll be more receptive to his apology when you wake up.

It takes longer than usual but he finally falls asleep and feels content. Even when he's unconscious, he instinctively reaches for your presence and it calms him. Your dreamscape is like a little pond, and he watches from his own nearby shore as your thoughts pass by in a blur, like slick oil paintings skimming over a watery surface. He doesn't like to intrude on your dreams if he can help it—he only interferes when he senses them slipping into nightmares instead. He tells himself it's not selfish to erase them for you, but the truth is that he's not sure he can stomach seeing his own face reflected in your dreams anymore, not with its wicked sneer and bloodstained teeth. He's not sure he forgives himself for what he did to you, and he wonders if you've truly forgiven him too.

Something odd in your dreamscape shifts suddenly and it catches Belphie's attention. The images in your subconscious grow murky and twisted, like they're being sucked down into some unseen void. Your presence is like sand falling through his fingertips, and it's harder and harder for him to feel you. He reaches out to your mind to wake you up because he doesn't know what's wrong, but something about this scares him. He jolts awake in the attic, chest heaving with the final memory of something snapping in his mind, like the cord that tethered you to him was suddenly cut. Eventually his brothers get up too and he can hear the commotion coming from down the stairs. He makes his way to your room in a trance before they can come find him. He already knows what his brothers are struggling to understand, the truth that no one can explain. You're gone somewhere far away, impossibly out of his reach, and he dreads falling asleep and feeling the void your absence left behind.

Sleep evades him until he forces himself to try and rest, and he finds himself in your bed instead of his own. He curls himself around your pillow underneath your sheets, clinging to the last whiffs of your scent, and he hopes you'll wake him up and tell him this was nothing but a bad dream. (Your scent fades away long before the nightmare ends, and he stops sleeping in your room after that.)