Douma Harem + Douma Oneshots

☆douma x muzan☆

(A/N: im not dead guys)

The cult had received a visitor. It was not unusual for people to arrive, but something about this one in particular was off putting.

He wasn't like the others that came - he wasn't pleading for a sanctuary, wasn't begging for forgiveness. His voice was smooth, quiet. His clothes were clearly expensive, and he didn't display the usual exhaustion most people did after climbing up the mountain to reach the Eternal Paradise Faith Cult.

The people guarding the doors finally let him in, after he assured them he was there to see the Gracious Founder. Obviously there were people guarding the doors, no one was allowed in without permission.

Or out.

The man walked the winding corridors. He knew the way, in fact, he could probably get there with his eyes closed with the amount of times he'd been here. He reached the golden door in a matter of minutes, not even bothering to knock before he entered.

He shut the door behind him, locking it. His red eyes focused on the other demon in the room, and he strode over, grabbing the younger by his silver hair.

"Eh? Who did-" There was a gasp, as rainbow irises slowly rose to meet the Demon King's. A large smile instantly appeared, faker than Muzan's love for his human wife. "Muzan! How kind of you to bless me with your presence!"

Muzan groaned in annoyance. Of course, Douma always did try to flatter him.

The compliments worked, not that he'd ever tell the Uppermoon Two.

"Shut up," Muzan growled, gripping the silver hair tighter. Douma smiled, enjoying the pain.

"It's been a while!" Douma commented, pulling his hair away from Muzan's tight grip.

Muzan grimaced, seemingly displeased with Douma's carefree attitude. "I wish it had been longer."

Douma laughed slightly, the sound like nails against a chalkboard to Muzan. The way the demon never stopped smiling disgusted him, as the Uppermoon Two didn't see that fact that a demon as high ranking as a Kizuki member shouldn't express feeling.

"Why are you here? Need to let out some anger again?" Douma asked, leaning down slightly. His face was close against Muzan's, only centimetres away. Muzan could feel his breath, quiet and precise, against his face.

Muzan grabbed Douma's neck, shoving him up against the wall. His grip was tight, uncomfortably so, but the younger demon liked that.

Muzan's grip only tightened, and he threw Douma against the wall, now standing a few metres away from the Uppermoon Two. Douma hit the wall with a crack, his bones breaking upon impact.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes~"

"Shut your mouth."

A tendril of flesh emerges from Muzan's shoulder, encircling Douma before wrapping up the demon. More flesh tentacles spouted from the one trapping Douma, tying up the Uppermoon's limbs.

The fleshy ropes tightened around Douma, restricting the Uppermoon Two's movement. Muzan smiled sadistically, his fangs poking over the edge of his lips as he gazed down at Douma.

"It's always amusing, seeing you like this. So... defenceless. Powerless. Weak." Muzan's words were cruel, but his tone was sweet, like it was dipped in honey. Dipped in honey, and smeared with blood and fake, hollow promises.

Douma laughed slightly, before he was cut off by Muzan's tentacle gripping his neck tighter. Muzan knew his words had no effect whatsoever on the demon, but he still liked saying them. Douma could take insults and punishments well, better than any partner Muzan had previously had.

Muzan stepped closer to Douma, grabbing at the latter's wrists with a hard grip. His claws left cuts in the Uppermoon's skin, cuts that wouldn't heal unless Muzan allowed them. Douma gasped softly, his eyes widening. A completely faked reaction, but a convincing one.

Muzan growled, slicing open Douma's turtleneck with a long fingernail. Douma watched wistfully as the ruined fabric fluttered to the floor, now unwearable.

"I hate your voice. I don't want to hear you speak those disgustingly sweet compliments,"Muzan's voice was angry now, his eyes narrowed. "We're not lovers. Don't talk to me like we are."

Douma rolled his eyes, placing his hand on Muzan's shoulder, pressing him onto the floorboards. The blond demon smirked, displaying white fangs that Muzan would love to break in half.

(A/N: too tired to do more. Wish me good luck for my therapist appointment tmrw (๑>◡<๑)