Douma Harem + Douma Oneshots

ʕ•̫͡•ʔDouma x Akazaʕ•̫͡•ʔ / Douma reincarnate AU (Part One)

A/N: requested by @Doumanotfoundyet . I promise to get the part 2 of the last chapter out soon, you guys are f'ing desperate! Also douma is a demon here, just in case you were confused by the beginning.

At first he hadn't really noticed. Akaza often went out, sometimes for long periods of time, so what has changed now? Why was his absence now ringing warning bells in Douma's mind?

In the beginning, it wasn't major. An extra hour or two. On the bad days, it'd be nearly a day.

Then it became a week. 

An entire one hundred and sixty-eight hours in which Douma didn't even get a letter or a mental message; just blank silence. When Akaza had returned, Douma turned his fury on him.

"Where the hell have you been?! D'you know how worried I was?" He screamed, the look in his eyes betraying how he felt; reflecting the sadness he didn't know how to express.

"I've got a fucking life outside of you, you idiot! When will you learn that the fucking world doesn't revolve around you?" Akaza had yelled back, anger blazing in honey yellow eyes that Douma oh-so-loved because they were the first eyes that had seen him for what he was.

But now, the eyes showed only hatred, and Douma loathed -loathed, the emotion of immense dislike, Douma remembered- that the hatred was directed at him.

"I know, but it's not fair that you ignore me! When was the last time you actually talked with me?! Not a few hastily stringed together rude sentences, but an actual conversation?!"

He could no longer remember the last time Akaza had smiled at him, actually smiled, not the fake upward quirk of the lips that Akaza had adopted. Nor could he remember the last time he'd held Akaza tight in a hug, not the half-hearted pat on the back that Akaza said he now preferred.

Something had happened, Douma was sure of it. Something or someone had gotten in the way. And he should have confronted Akaza about it, asked him what it was.

Maybe then it wouldn't have hurt as much when he saw his boyfriend of fourteen years fucking a human woman in Douma's own bed.

Douma lost it. He'd screamed at them both, yelling at them words he'd never said before, even flinging an elaborately decorated circular pot at them. 

(A/N: Poor Gykokko) 

But when they'd left, Douma didn't feel satisfied with what he'd said and done. He didn't feel sadness either.

He was hollow.

It was if the emotions that Akaza had brought out from his fractured  heart had hidden away again, and Douma was powerless in being able to get them. It was horrible. The woman's moans still didn't leave his mind, the look of bliss and love upon his boyfriend's face as he looked at the female. When had Akaza last looked at him like that? And yet, Douma still didn't feel jealousy rearing its ugly head.

Douma had taken Akaza's love for granted, the fact that one day Akaza might fall out of love never once crossing his mind. He'd just assumed they would always be together, together until the world fell apart and then they'd die in each others arms.

Curse those foolish, naïve dreams and the childish beliefs. 

It didn't matter now anyways. You couldn't feel sorrow when you were dead and cold; six feet  under, so to speak. When you had reached the limit, the sky, you could only fall down further. And Douma fell from grace. 

He fell into a pit of his own suffering, a self created mental prison. Gone was the old Douma, the one that when he laughed, it lit up the room with the silver sound.

Instead there was the new Douma. The one that regarded everyone in a glare of his once happiness-filled eyes. The Douma that was cruel and hostile inside. 

No one liked the new Douma.

And that meant that no one talked to him. Even Daki and Gyutaro, demons that had promised Douma to never leave his side, now walked away as Douma approached.

Where once there was happiness,

"I love you Douma, I always will."

There was now only the blooming ugly feeling of antipathy.

"Just die."

When someone told Douma something, he didn't forget. And he never forgot that's two words Akaza had told him, the words that Akaza spat out as if they were burning his own tongue.

"Just die."

Had he really meant it, Douma wondered. Because if he had, then he would be delighted with what Douma was going to do. Because what was left for the Uppermoon? He had no one else to anchor himself onto, to use as an island in a never ending flood. 

Nobody.

The sun should be something to appreciate. Such gorgeous colours and beautiful light was exceptionally rare, and the sun was both.

The sun should be something to be feared. Such harmful rays that could have dastardly effects on demons and the blinding light was horribly wrong, that something so far away should still hold so much power.

Red, a blood-like ochre, stained the sky. The demon lay amidst the dewy grass, the ferns tickling him slightly. He looked up, and silently begged for tears to come. To feel something before he died, just so it had all been worth it, so it hadn't amounted to nothing.

But he couldn't.

And as his body slowly crumbled, he still didn't cry. He still didn't feel. And soon he was just ash, and the wind whispered in the early morning breeze as birds began to sing.

How funny that someone should die before all the beauty wakes up. How sad that someone should die before all the beauty wakes up. 

The wind lifted what was left of his body; the dust, up and carried it softly across the meadow. And the the dust was flying, free from torment at last.

"Uppermoon Two is dead. Killed by the sun, as it appears. Due to this event, all your ranks shall move up by one."

No one had cried for him. In fact, no one ever would. He was thing of the past, an unwelcome memory that most people would rather forget. And forget they did.

The woman who Akaza loved became a demon, and they lived the future Douma had dreamed of, the future were everything worked out in the end. 

Too bad Douma didn't have that future.

Too bad Douma didn't have a future.