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Leviathan knows envy.
Like a trusted familiar, the sin clings to his back and anchors itself to him— deems him worthy enough of being the lucky ship that won’t be set from its harbor, day in and night over, Leviathan learns to know himself more and more.
The good and the bad, the ironic greed that comes with the bitterness of longing. Like always, he comes close to last place, outmatched by even the laziest of demons. Stuck against the current instead of being taken with it, alone, he bears the knowledge of thirst.
(A kind of lust he can’t escape, whereas Asmodeus can easily get the haze quenched and drink from something until satisfied, such luxury is lost on him.)
The thirst he wants quashed would mean to step out of his shell and let the world accept him as he is— purely Leviathan. (Un)apologetically mediocre and lacking in every department that could max out his stats, make him stand out amongst his brothers.
It’s not a question of power, he is power. Levi knows. Amongst the seven of them, he ranks easily third— undefeated by his juniors, feared by ancient demons with floating whispers of what was once the “Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy”.
When war was something he could pride himself in, when the possibility to solve anything by blood was an option, before peace with the Celestial Realm was to be established and that day by day, he’d lose himself even more. Forever changed with the absence of violence.
Then he found an escape. Shameful and laughable as it was, when he had first fallen— Leviathan found comfort in the shows the world offered, buried himself deep under the common folk. He gave up what little social interactions he could muster, locked himself up in his room and established his kingdom.
(Alone at night he’d wonder if all of this truly had freed him. If being closed off and aching truly had been the cure to his torment— a firm body against the waves, something born out of stubbornness.)
When it gets late (although it’s always late in Devildom), Leviathan falls asleep with nothing to look forward to other than an unlimited exclusive launch of whatever Ruri merchandise he hasn’t gotten his hands on over the centuries.
And alone in silence, Leviathan sometimes cries.
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The human is a picture perfect depiction of a dating sim love interest— approachable but hard to gain points with, sweet but also easily irritated with things they deem out of place.
They’re gentle and soft, quiet with words but loud with their way of loving. Something he wants to take for himself and force in a cage, beg and beg them to only look at him. To see him, to fix him.
Such words are left unsaid, lost in the ocean’s endless blue gaze. Like a bottle thrown in the sea, with uncertainty, Leviathan hopes it will reach their heart one day.
(Even if it is the smallest of dreams, and the most unrealistic— he cages his heart around a comfy blanket, walks up to the sand, and at last offers to the sea all he has left, the ability to love someone. Something else. Anything that isn’t him).
At times, Leviathan wished he hadn’t been born at all.
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Leviathan likes when his human kisses it better, even if he never gets injured. What he wants to convey when he begs them to help him, is that really, he just desires even the tiniest of breaks.
When he loses a game and sulks, they’re right next to him— laughing (because of course why wouldn’t they laugh? He failed at the only thing he’s good at). But it’s never the kind of chuckle that makes him ill, reminds him that he’s below average and makes him want to bury himself away.
Levi likes to know he can make them laugh, that they want to be near him and can still get joy out of it.
Today is special because no one can bother them, nobody will or can get in his way. The human had decided to introduce Levi to something new or not so new, he knew the basics of poetry.
(He also knew how bad at spelling out what he felt was like, but if it was something they wanted to do, he’d indulge them.)
Halfway through the (interesting) lesson, Leviathan has to admit his attention was more so on the human than whatever prompt they had agreed to come up with. The way their pen trails on the paper, the soft humming filling his room alongside the noise of his aquarium.
For a moment, Leviathan feels himself right back where once was— in heaven, a soft tingly feeling travels him, something he hates. Too unworthy and mediocre to even think of such a possibility, and yet, when their eyes meet, they smile.
And selfishly, Levi smiles back— because whenever he’s with them, he’s not the worthless shut-in otaku. He’s laid bare like an unfinished canvas, awaiting the final touch of his painter’s artistry.
“You’re so cute when you smile.” It comes out like second nature, and MC cackles so loudly when he tries to hide himself away— shield his face with his unfinished poem.
He thinks he can get used to this feeling, forever, and ever.
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When they died, Leviathan thinks he understood the notion of humanity— fragile and unresponsive, cradled by Mammon’s arms, he thinks he falls a second time.
(Because he’s seething with envy when he shouldn’t, Levi wants to be the one cradling his human softly. To cry and beg for them to come back, not for his brothers, but for himself.)
When they come back, Leviathan is quiet. Not the kind of mourning quiet, he’s thinking about how fragile everything truly is. Once when a human acquires something, they can so easily succumb and forever fall under the weight of their own burden.
After that accident in the attic, Leviathan relaxes slightly— until Belphegor and MC are too close, until he’s burning with jealousy and wants to swipe them away, encasing them like a fish in his aquarium.
He doesn’t. Instead, he has to learn like all of his brothers. And he finds that he hates it, the funny little word that people define as ‘sharing’.
Sharing is lousy, nobody in the house wants to— they have to, it’s an obligation. Something that ties him down from acting out, until it won’t anymore.
At night, Levi dreams— a debauched dream. That in no way would happen, something born out of anger and jealousy.
A perfect novel, where he is the (albeit ordinary) protagonist and the human his pretty love interest. A world where they’re fated to be together.
He never sleeps the idea off, when slumber comes— he accepts the dreams that come with it, and when they do, he falls happily.
Much different to the agony he felt when he fell here, when a few centuries ago— he hated what he had become, something filthy.
A demon that on top of envy, felt incredible rage for being stuck here.
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The human world is colorful, pastel like— something straight out of a slice of life anime Levi only reads to better his mood, and maybe it is what it is.
When MC goes to visit it and comes back with a bunch of souvenirs, he and Asmo always get the long end of the stick— contrary to the usual, where Leviathan feels like he doesn’t exist, he’s placed on a higher footing. Over and over, it makes his heart flutter and his fantasies run wild.
(A little bit of puppy love laced with genuine admiration— when the human smiles and hands him a bunch of merch from animes and series they’ve talked about, all his feelings come to the surface— ready to emerge, to be vomited all over the floor as he can barely hide his blush.)
Once again, they steal his heart and Leviathan wonders when it’ll be his time to steal theirs. Whether or not they could live in bliss, hands in hands. When those thoughts arise, he buries them away in a safe— purposefully forgets the combination, and prays to never remember again.
It never lasts long, the memory loss.
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Levi thinks MC is beautiful— something out of the fanciest Devildom’s myth. A temptation ready to be laid on the softest flower bed and exposed for the world to see, something he will steal away. Something he wants to keep for himself, envious of everyone else who can admire them without guilt eating away at their skin.
Levi once again, thinks he’s gotten the hang of understanding his own greed— and his lack of self love, the perfect combination for a recipe to disaster. Something unlovable, something grotesque and all together an amalgamation of things he has.
Flaws that his brothers lack— shortcomings unbecoming of them, but so perfectly Leviathan. Sometimes he wonders how he manages to keep it at bay, even when his whole being orbits around it. And quietly, when MC smiles at him and sits next to him, he thinks he can handle it just a little more.
(He can go against the waves, let it sleep inside a bit longer— often, Leviathan ignores it, the ugly side of envy. By desiring and buying everything that could make him feel while— he eats away at that hunger, until he can’t anymore.)
It’s in those moments that despite being fed by his own ineptness, he yearns to finally have his share. For a few years, months, centuries— anything to put out the ever growing flame inside of him.
He finds himself to be easily subsided, a quick smile from then and he short-circuits— and all together admits defeat.
His chance will come, and with it, the happy ending he deserves.
(It’s the kind of soft fluffy hopeful feeling he keeps at shore— lest he’s ready to be heartbroken. But he finds this could be the best, or the worse.)