girl… abt douma… i get you so much 😭 his character is just way too fascinating and so intriguing… the voice acting (mamoru miyano) did an excellent job as well aaaa! i would love to kinda poke your brain for relationship/smut hcs abt him if you have any..! 🤲
上弦の弐 — DŌMA relationship headcanons
contains: MDNI 18+・f!reader・religious themes・manipulation・power imbalance・reader is unaware of dōma's demonic nature・size kink / size difference・p in v・fluff・headcanons
note. i rewatched every single scene featuring dōma in the anime & movies yesterday. might start watching death note bc mamoru miyano voiced light yagami
❅ ── dōma has no real attachment to material things, yet he understands the human fondness in beauty. so the hairpins, jeweled combs, and silken sashes he presents to you are drawn from his vast collection of "leftovers" from decades ago. he is careful, so careful, never to risk placing in your hands an keepsake that might once have belonged to someone you could remember. instead, he offers them with a flourish, smiling as though each gift were chosen specifically just for you.
❅ ── insults don’t faze him in the slightest; if anything, they seem to delight him. you can call him childish, annoying, a downright a charlatan, and he'll laugh heartily, before pressing a kiss to your knuckles, "why, yes, all true! but you still like me, don't you?"
❅ ── scolding earns you no contrition either, as he doubles over in gales of laughter, shoulders shaking as though your reproach were the finest joke he's ever heard. he looks up, grinning widely, and croons, "ouch, how cruel! i think i rather like it when you're mean to me."
❅ ── hand-holding with him is constant. if not to swing your arm in wide arcs, then to twirl you mid-step into an impromptu dance. sometimes, he simply threads his fingers through yours, admiring how small they look compared to his own.
❅ ── when dōma sleeps (or rather, pretends to,) he habitually slides a leg between yours or drapes an arm across your waist.
❅ ── he enjoys sake baths with you. the bath is deep and aromatic, liquid steaming with a golden-tinged glow. half-submerged he sits across from you, hands respectfully idle unless you initiate play. when you splash, he counters with mischievous ripples, shooting rivulets from clasped hands and laughing uproariously at your shrieks and retaliations.
❅ ── he's perpetually cold, corpse-like to the touch, yet that never stops him from sliding icy hands against your stomach just to hear you yelp. "ooh, you're so warm! like a little stove~" but on a redeeming note, when you shiver at the mysterious draft in his quarters, he drapes his cloak over your shoulders with unexpected care.
❅ ── his kisses are never quite solemn. dōma peppers them across your cheeks and nose in a flurry, punctuating each with cute little "mwah!" sounds until you're laughing or annoyed. if you try to kiss him properly, he plays along (though inevitably, he'll attempt to slip his tongue past your lips, far more invested in your fluster than in the kiss itself.)
❅ ── he insists on "sharing meals" with you, though you notice he never seems to partake himself. instead, he sits across from you, plucking up sweets and slices of fruit to hold against your lips. whether you're hungry or not is irrelevant; he beams as you accept the morsel, praising you as though you've done him a great kindness by eating.
❅ ── in front of his followers, dōma tempers his physicality so as to maintain his guru persona. his disciples see you as part of his court or his favoured companion, but nothing more; as he offers serene smiles and gesticulation with elegance, but never touches you beyond polite proximity.
❅ ── formalities bore him in private. he waves them away with a grin, pressing a finger to your lips. "none of that stuffy '-sama' nonsense, alright? just dōma. nicer that way." he prefers the sound of his name on your lips without adornment.
❅ ── when storms roll in, he insists on pulling you outside to watch, uncaring if the rain soaks through your clothes. he gestures toward the sky, presenting the lightning and thunder as a divine performance for the two of you to enjoy. every flash throws his features into violent chiaroscuro, and you cannot help yourself but steal glances at the kaleidoscopic whirl of his irises, the colours ever-shifting. each thunderclap earns an exultant clap of his hands, laughter ringing clear and bright like a child at a firework festival.
❅ ── and when the weather clears, dōma's amusements turn domestic. he delights in dressing you like his personal doll, layering brightly dyed silks across your shoulders, fussing over which colours flatter best. when he finally deems you finished, he guides you to the mirror, slides in behind you, and rests his chin on your shoulder. arms encircle your waist, his smile reflected alongside your image, as he marvels aloud at just how cute you are.
❅ ── he enjoys walking with you after dark, wandering through the estate garden. holding your hand, he twirls you in dizzying circles. at some point he leans down and plucks a flower, tucking it into your hair without concern if his followers watch from afar.
❅ ── when you cry, dōma's reaction is twofold: fat, shimmering crocodile tears immediately well in his own eyes, coursing dramatically down his cheeks as if he's weeping on your behalf. he gathers you into his arms, cradling you close, stroking your hair in gentle yet practiced consolation.
❅ ── when you're feeling down, he produces games to keep you busy: go boards with their black & white stones, hanafuda cards painted with flowers. or even simple menko, slapping decorated cards to the floor with gleeful noise. he plays with exaggerated concentration, and yet somehow always manages to lose. when you "win," he explodes into applause and cheers. (though you suspect that he threw the game on purpose.)
❅ ── he loves to create small "rituals" with you that seem important only to him. for example, braiding flower crowns together from the blooms his followers present to him, a pastime he treats with uncharacteristic solemnity. he selects the brightest blossoms, tongue poking between his teeth in concentration, then beams when his creation is finished. he settles the crown onto your head with a flourish, before bowing his own to receive yours in turn.
❅ ── being sheltered all his life, even the simplest chores fascinate him. he trails after you with bright eyes while you sweep or cook, insisting on "helping." and though he manages a few useful tasks, he is a whirlwind of chatter.
❅ ── he carries you whenever the impulse strikes, with little regard for dignity. sometimes cradled in his arms bridal-style, sometimes straight up tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. every time he lifts you, it is heralded by his singsong "up we go!" followed by laughter when you protest.
❅ ── you take turns brushing each other’s hair, the simple act a shared ritual. he hums tunelessly as he combs through your strands, teasing knots apart with care, fingers occasionally trailing along your neck.
❅ ── when boredom sets in, he idly traces shapes across your bare skin with manicured nails. often it's kanji characters or doodles. he urges you to guess what he's written.
❅ ── for a guru with nearly two hundred and fifty followers ready to obey his every word, dōma proves disarmingly agreeable when it comes to humouring you. any whim is met with sparkling enthusiasm, "ooh of course! let's try it!" the result never matters half as much as the novelty itself, the brief reprieve you grant him from that endless void inside. in practice, it means he is willing to try anything in bed. he'd probably even let you peg him.
❅ ── the moment he realises his cock is simply too large for you, his reaction is both merry and seemingly flustered. tilting his head, he gives a helpless little laugh, "ahh… tight fit. that's a shame, isn't it?" still, the discovery doesn't stop him from rocking his hips in small, testing motions, determined to find out just how much you can manage.
❅ ── when he finally bottoms out, your gasp and frantic squirming bring him to a pause. he blinks down at the sight of you straining around him, genuinely mystified by how poorly suited you seem to be for his size. then, with mock-despair, he sighs, "poor thing… 'm too big for you, huh?"
❅ ── his way of encouragement borders on parody, but it's hard not to find comfort in it. he strokes your hair, coaxing, "c'mon, you can do it! just a little more and you'll fit me like a glove—oh, not that you're a glove, that would be weird—hehe." the chatter is aggravating, yet in its own way, reassuring. when at last your body yields, he claps his praise with tears spilling freely down his face, shimmering trails on his cheeks. "look at you… so brave! you really did it!" as if you had performed a great miracle.
❅ ── he watches himself disappear inside you with rapt fascination, murmuring to himself, "wahh… it really all goes in, huh?"
❅ ── when you whimper that it's too much, his lips curl into an exaggerated pout, "eh? too much? but it's just me! i'll be gentle, promise." the promise shatters within two thrusts, his eagerness far outweighing his self-control.
❅ ── dōma has no true concept of intimacy, but he wears the mask convincingly enough. after sex, he pulls you into his chest, smothering you in tender gestures: kisses pressed to your forehead with a resounding mwah!, his fingers combing idly through your hair. "you’re so warm. i don’t think i'd ever get bored of this." whether it is genuine affection or simply another diversion hardly matters.
