Douma Harem + Douma Oneshots

?Kokushibo x Douma?/ Random Oneshot (Part One)

A/N: hola. I do apologise for the lack of updates, been feeling a bit, ya know, shit. For anyone waiting for me to write their requests, I'm sorry if I've taken so long. I think someone's asked for kotodou smut, which is being written. Anyways, have this to make up for the hiatus. 

Douma had long since come to terms with the fact he didn't have feelings. Anger, sadness and joy were foreign concepts to him, something that others could have and he couldn't.

It was just the way his world worked. He'd been told that, first by his parents, then by the priests that helped run the religious aspects of the temple, and then Muzan.

Feelings don't matter.

As time went by, and he matured and understood the way that other's worlds worked, he tried to trick himself and those around him, to pretend his faked emotions were genuine, that he actually felt sympathy for those that came to seek him out.

It worked. Others couldn't see through the mask he'd carefully crafted to hide himself, couldn't see behind those rainbow eyes and that radiant smile. He held his fans to his face, sheltering his normally stoic face with the golden engraved weapons. Not that the others thought they were weapons. The humans thought the lotus patterned fans were for decoration, a symbol of his wealth and power; of his significance compared to theirs.

In a way, they were. Everything about him was radiating power, from his unique appearance to the fact his throne was elevated off the ground.

Once, he'd known someone who made him smile. But they were gone, and it was his fault they were. They were no more than a skeleton at the bottom of a raging waterfall, a memory to remember on a sleepless night.

He'd recently tried to mimic the feeling with another person, and to his newfound joy, it had worked. The emotions he craved had began to stir in his chest and mind, the complex web of feeling finally allowing him a few strands.

He didn't love the person, far from it, but they closed a cavity in his chest and opened a stitched-up hole of emotion inside of him.

He sat in his elegant bed, the aforementioned item of furniture in the corner of his temple room. The sun had long since risen, all demons scurrying away to their hiding places to seek refuge from the unforgiving glare of the sun.

It was around midday and as he didn't have any new followers to attend to, he was fine with staying in his bed with the other sleeping demon. The room had no windows, and as a result was dim, the only light source a soft glow of an oil lamp.

Douma sighed gently, the silence blissful. He wasn't usually in a chatty mood, contrary to what most that had met him thought. He preferred the silence. It gave him an escape form the crushing reality of life, distracting him from thinking about the path he'd chosen. And yet, he loathed the quietness at the same time.

It gave him an opening, an relapse to the screams that often echoed down these halls, past and present sufferings that refused to stray from his mind.

The demon in the bed bedside began to awaken, one pair of eyes fluttering open. Douma glanced down at the figure, who had opened the other two pairs of his eyes now. Yellow irises met rainbow ones, and the owner of the multicoloured eyes smiled.

"You're finally awake!"

"No." Stated the other demon, rolling over and closing his eyes again.

Douma shook Kokushibo's shoulders, forcing him awake. "C'mon, as the most powerful demon Moon, I thought you'd be more energised in the mornings!"

Kokushibo did not reply, instead choosing to pull the silken covers around him.

(A/N: this is not like me in the mornings, but I know someone who's exactly like this. You cannot get them out of bed.)

Douma forced a laugh. "Well, I'll be in the main room."

Kokushibo grunted tiredly, his eyes now closed. Douma smiled and skipped out the room. The moment he left the doors, his facial expression vanished. He wanted to feel more. The Uppermoon One only divulged so much emotion, and at time he would relapse into his emotionless state. He fixed the smile on his pale face again, striding down the halls which had seen so much death and despair over the century that they'd been in use for.

He opened the oaken doors to the main temple room, the one where humans would fling themselves at his feet and beg, plead, and sob for forgiveness and salvation. He now felt a certain feeling whenever that happened, a feeling of nausea and a strong desire to leave. Kokushibo told him that that was disgust.

In the temple room were four people he hadn't seen before. One was tall, a sorrowful and tearful - literally, he was crying - face. The one crouched next to him was a white haired, scarred man. Beside him was someone who looked similar, but had instead cropped black hair. A female one sat with her legs crossed next to the tall one, a smile on her face. If she was smiling, why did her eyes look so angry? There was another one as well, and he was standing away from the triad. He had ocean blue eyes and spiked black hair.

(A/N: y'all know where this is going)

What Douma noticed was that the humans absolutely reeked of power. They were dangerous.

"Hello, are you new? I don't think I've seen you before! Would you like a tour? How long are you going to be staying here?"

The human seemed taken aback at his flurry of questions, and the one in the corner cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes..we are new. We will be here for," he glanced at the others in question. The crying one looked up, Douma not surprised to see white eyes. If he cried that much, he'd have to have damaged his eyes somehow. He also had a faint sickly scent that lingered around him, as if he'd been sick for a while, or had been very ill as a younger person.

"For a few weeks." Filled in the blind man.

"Ah, I'll get accommodations set up for you. Where are my manners?! My name is Douma, and you are?"

The black haired woman spoke this time. "The one over there is Giyu. The one who is blind is Gyomei, next to me are Genya and Sanemei. I'm Shinobu."

She sounded happy, and her face had a smile on it, but Douma's could tell when someone was faking a smile. After all, he did it too. Douma kept up his - yes, fake - smile, polite. Did they really think he couldn't smell the repugnant stink of Demon Slayer on them? They were sent here to kill him, no doubt. That would explain why there were so many of them. But five entire Hashira - or he presumed they were, for what other rank of the Demon Slayers would dare attack him? - sent here could only mean trouble. He would have to kill them in their sleep, to minimise danger towards him. Usually he would be able to dispose of them easily, but they looked strong. Too strong for him in his own. Except the scarred black haired man, he looked weak. Douma inhaled the air, face hidden behind his fan. A very faint smell of demon came from the who'd been introduced as Genya, and as Douma looked closer, he could see small fangs peeking over his lips.

Odd.

Douma called for a servant, who he then told to prepare rooms for the new guests. "Please follow Akio to your rooms, newcomers. If you need guidance, I shall be here."

Douma waited until the five had left before dropping his smile. His only thought was to kill them. Why would they come here? 

Did they want to die?

(A/N: sorry again for the long wait, I hope you enjoyed this. I will try and update more regularly from now on)