You first met Douma when you were brought into his cult, a place that you could get away from your troubles and seek help through someone.. greater.

At least, that’s what everyone said he was. A blessing. A gift from the gods. You didn’t exactly believe this, but you just wanted to find peace amidst your terrors so you went along with it anyway.

However, from the moment you first saw him you knew he was no blessing, nor gift from the gods. He was the exact opposite. A demon. The kanji in his eyes, sharp fangs, and sharp nails gave it away— albeit these traits weren’t entirely obvious and could have a different explanation, you knew that wasn’t the case.

You had been familiar with demons since the area you used to live in often got attacked by them since it was a populated area— you witnessed firsthand what demons could do.

Yet, you didn’t say anything. There’s not a chance he wouldn’t kill you the moment you even showed any of your suspicion, so you played along like everyone else.

But, it became increasingly harder to play pretend when you had caught him eating his own followers a few times, you could smell the blood from his room inside the mansion whenever you got close enough, and you had even seen a glimpse of it.

One wrong move and your life was over— Douma would know, and he would kill you. So, when Douma suddenly asked for your presence one random day.. you prepared yourself for the worst. Which was ultimately death.

But you definitely weren’t prepared for him to simply place a hand on your head and speak. “I never thought a mere human would figure it out. But, I must say you have intrigued me from since you first appeared. So, for that I’ll be merciful!” Douma had said with a smile.

Now, if that was a good or bad thing was personally up to you, but at least you would live another day as long as he found you amusing.. which was impossible for him to not when it seemed like whatever you did he just liked you.

You found yourself being pulled to Douma’s side more often now, he wanted you next to him as much as possible. Probably because he wanted to make sure you didn’t tell anyone what he truly was, but definitely because he just liked your presence beside him.

Now, in his room, you sit on his thigh while he’s listening to one of his followers pour their heart out to him, his hand resting on your head almost absentmindedly. He really seemed intent on keeping you close, and keeping a hand on you.