Hi! I would like to make nsfw short fic request based on the prompt below with Douma x f!reader. You're a really great writer and I appreciate your work very much! Congratulations on your 3 000 followers! 🎉
❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜
A well-deserved prize - Douma x Reader
Warnings: smut w/o plot, fingering, f!reader
Synopsis: Douma gently reminds that you are exclusively his
A/N: thank you so much, dear Nonnie! ♥
MASTERLIST
The air was thick with tension, every glance exchanged between you and Douma charged with a palpable electricity.
You stood in the dimly lit chamber. With a graceful gesture, you untied the intricate obi belt that held the kimono in place, allowing it to slowly unwind from around your waist. The sleeves of the kimono, adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to tell stories of distant lands, slipped down your arms like whispers of silk. You watched as the garment pooled around your feet, revealing the subtle curve of your shoulders and the gentle slope of your collarbone. Your movements were deliberate yet unhurried, a quiet ritual that held a sense of both tradition and intimacy. As the kimono parted from your frame, the cool air of the room caressed your skin, creating a gentle contrast against the warmth that still lingered from the fabric. You stood there for a moment, appreciating the sensation and the freedom that came with shedding the layers of the day.
"I love that no one else has seen you like this," his voice was a low, seductive purr as he slowly started closing the distance between the two of you, "that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. They don't get to have you, but I do."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a confession that had left you reeling.
Your heart raced in your chest, his words igniting a fire within you that you could barely control. Douma's rainbow eyes bore into yours, his gaze unrelenting and intense, as if he could see every thought racing through your mind.
"Douma," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you took a tiny, cautious step closer to him. His presence was intoxicating, a heady blend of danger and desire that drew you in like a moth to a flame.
He closed the distance between you, his pale hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he traced the curve of your jaw with his fingertips. "You're mine," he breathed, his lips dangerously close to your ear, his voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill coursing through you. "No one else gets to claim you, to touch you like I do."
The intensity of his words left you breathless, a mixture of fear and excitement pooling in the pit of your stomach. You knew the danger of getting involved with someone like Douma, a demon with a reputation for ruthlessness and cruelty. But there was something about him that drew you in, something that made you want to unravel the enigma that he was.
"I can't deny that there's something between us," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of defiance, "but that doesn't mean I belong to anyone."
A predatory smile tugged at the corner of Douma's lips, his gaze darkening with a mixture of amusement and desire. "Oh, I don't expect you to be so easily tamed," he purred, his fingers trailing down your neck in a feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine.
His lips brushed against yours, a tantalizing tease that left you craving more. You could feel the pull between you, the magnetic attraction that neither of you could escape.
"You challenge me," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire, "and I find that… intriguing."
Your heart raced as his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, a clash of fire and ice that left you gasping for air. His arms wrapped around your naked form, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace.
As the kiss deepened, all reservations and doubts melted away. In that moment, it was just you and Douma, the undeniable chemistry between you igniting a passion that burned brighter than anything you had ever experienced before.
When the kiss finally broke, you were left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest like an animal trying to escape a cage.
Douma's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of hunger and something that almost resembled tenderness. "I don't intend to let you go," he admitted, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine, "not now, not ever."
You met his gaze with a determined expression, a newfound strength coursing through you. "Then prove it," you challenged, your voice steady despite the chaos of emotions swirling within you.
A smirk tugged at Douma's lips again, his fingers tracing a path down your spine in a way that made your knees weak. "Oh, don't you worry," he whispered, his voice a promise that sent a thrill through your veins, "I intend to show you just how much you belong to me."
In that moment, you knew that your life was about to change irrevocably. The allure of Douma's darkness was irresistible, a dangerous path that you were more than willing to tread. As his lips captured yours once more, you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of his embrace, ready to explore the depths of desire that awaited you both.
He turned you around and drew you close against his clad chest, sensing your gradual melding into his embrace. Tilting your head back, your gaze locked onto his captivating eyes, and Douma savored the delicate sighs escaping your lips as his hands traced your contours. With a firm yet gentle touch, he explored, eliciting reactions that were music to his ears, all the while observing your descent into a state of surrender, where control became a comforting anchor.
Gradually and tenderly, his hands traversed you pussy, fingers gliding in rhythmic motions. Unhurried, deliberate, and unyielding, he indulged in a gentle caress of the aroused cunt before him. Douma sensed your longing, your eagerness to draw nearer to his touch, the mere tease no longer satisfying. A low groan escaped you, carried by labored breaths, the tone of desperation imbuing your response with unwavering determination, no longer a whisper but a voice of resolute need.
His soothing caress remained constant, neither ceasing nor quickening. Douma observed as you savored his touch, craving an escalation yet ensnared in your own arousal. With his second hand, he secured your position, skillfully engaging with your nipples. Skillful pinches between his fingers elicited fresh moans from you, coaxing forth an uncontainable response. "Oh my God, Douma!"
Your fingers threaded through his silvery locks as you reached your hands back, your grip firm as you trembled and let out soft moans.
Saturated with desire, Douma sensed you teetering on the precipice of climax, a point where most of ordinary men would readily succumb to the overwhelming sensation.
Abruptly, Douma's hand departed from your yearning, moist pussy, securing its hold on your hip while he nipped at the column of your neck, drawing some blood. "Have you been a good girl?" He inquired in a low, teasing tone.
Accompanied by a low whimper, you eagerly nodded, affirming without words that your compliance had been steadfast.
Douma's lips curved into a smile as he gazed down, his rainbow irises darkening with an intense, primal desire. "It seems you've earned yourself a reward."
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I was reading your Dōma works again because I am a freak. Holy shit. The dating hc's where he's too big? The overstimulation hc? Holy shit. So good. I feel like the greed they described in the Bible. I cannot get enough.
-🎉
18+
"oops! that's quite a tight fit, isn't it?"
the moment dōma realizes just how stark the size difference is, his reaction a mix of surprise and playacting embarrassment. though anyone who knows his true nature would recognise the exaggerated pout for what it is—a careful study of feigned modesty, nothing more.
"i figured you were small, but wow!"
the newfound discovery doesn't stop him from rocking his hips in small, testing motions, determined to find out just how much you can manage. beastly thing that he is. but who are you to blame when it was you who let him slither his way into your bed?
you exhale through your nose, valiantly trying (and failing) to coax your body into relaxing. it had taken considerable effort just to ease the tip inside. every inch of him forces your body to accommodate what it clearly wasn’t built to take. pressure builds, a searing sensation that sends nerves firing up your spine. even so, upper moon two remains infuriatingly buoyant. he tilts his head, birch-coloured hair cascading over his shoulders, catching the dim light like a fucked-up halo. his eyes—kaleidoscopic, prismatic orbs that seem to hold every colour known to man yet not a single trace of humanity—crease at the corners upon seeing your pitiful tears.
"oh dear," he murmurs, tapping his chin thoughtfully with a lilac-tipped nail. "now now, don't cry, makes me sad too."
then, in a sudden burst of manic energy, dōma brightens, as if experiencing an eureka moment.
"oh! i’ve got an idea!"
you barely have a moment to dread what’s coming before he seizes your ankles, hoisting your hips clean off the futon. your elbows dig into the sheets for leverage, trembling from the strain as he folds you into a precarious half-bridge.
one of his hands slips beneath your knee, guiding it up until your calf rests along his shoulder; the other braces your hip, his thumb stroking idle circles as though this were some leisurely dance rather than a grotesque contortion. then he pulls out with a wet squelch, the withdrawal leaving your insides clenching helplessly around absence. for a fleeting instant, you’re granted the privilege of seeing him in full—the obscene size of his cock, slick and flushed, pulsating veins standing stark. a translucent strand of slick stretches, snaps, and lands against his navel. "see, i can go waaaaay deeper like this!"
he thus proves his point by ramming his entire length into you.
you despise that thing, holding you so tightly in its embrace. upper moon two: evil incarnate and scum on earth, the very antithesis of everything your nichirin sword stands for.
however, in the aftermath of another skirmish unresolved, you find yourself in an untenable position.
"haah, you feel so nice and warm!" dōma crooned, voice sugared and bright. for not the first time, you curse yourself for drowning in those panchromatic eyes. no wonder his disciples fell so easily; he lured them with his sweet words and otherworldly beauty, only to devour them once the mask slipped. perhaps your punishment for fraternising with the enemy should be to share their fate. but no. the leader of the eternal paradise faith cult has made it abundantly clear he isn’t interested in eating you. because for over a hundred years, dōma had made a vocation of hollow cheer and cultivated compassion. but now, balls deep inside you, he swears there’s—something tugging at the cavity where his heart should be. lust? curiosity? whatever infinitesimal, inarticulate thing it is—in the endless abyss that defines upper moon two, being able to feel something is still more than nothing.
throwing back his head with a giddy laugh, dōma fucks you harder to consecrate the wonderful revelation.
You know... Douma could help with the back pain (or make it worse, it all depends how gentle he's capable of being so not very). Straddles your butt, kneads your sore muscles, pokes at your spine with his too-sharp claws.
dōma takes great pride in his ability to help, and really, what could be more helpful than this? after all, his purpose in the world was to ease suffering—and you’re suffering, aren’t you? a bit of back pain… nothing he can’t fix!
his hands are broad, perfectly made for kneading sore muscles, though his enthusiasm far outpaces his gentleness. he starts to knead, though “knead” might be too generous a word. it’s more a series of curious prods and pokes as though he’s playing with his food, marveling at each twitch and hiss of breath as signs of progress. his nails, inconveniently long and pointed, trace your vertebrae in little teasing circles.
the thought nags at you: the sheer trust it takes to allow him of all people to do this. to have him straddling you, while you’re bared beneath him in every sense. he seems utterly oblivious to it—or perhaps, and this seems more likely, he’s entirely aware and simply doesn’t think it makes any difference.
to his credit, dōma really can help. he lets his palms frost over, a coolness seeping into your tense shoulders and numbing the ache in seconds. the chill spreads deliciously slow, and oh, he’s rewarded by your soft little sigh. he knew he was good at this sort of thing!
but, of course, he can’t simply behave. while his powers numb the pain, he uses the excuse of “helping” to indulge his curiosity—leaning forward to brush your hair aside, murmuring sweet compliments about how warm you feel beneath him. and when you don’t immediately tell him to stop, he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck as encouragement for recovery.
dōma never understood the appeal of abstinence until he met you. for more than a century, he had obeyed the simplest of creeds: hunger should be fed, desire fulfilled, pleasure taken whenever it presented itself.
tonight is no different. while his appetite in the physical sense was already glutted, his carnal desires never waned for you. and curse that freakish stamina of his! judging by the hardness nudging your thigh, it was clear that he could’ve kept going without pause, had it not been for your human limits.
four drawn-out rounds and still, he could not leave you alone. after being denied the comfort of staying inside you, dōma sought consolation elsewhere, mouthing languid kisses to your shoulder, in both quiet worship and tender defilement. (it wasn’t morality that stayed his fangs from tearing into your arteries—to dōma, it was more of a game. curiosity turned self-inflicted torment. he’s somewhat of a masochist.)
you mumbled half-heartedly about needing rest, but he ignored it entirely. “just one more kiss. pleasepleaseplease pretty please?” you both knew one kiss would never suffice—greedy thing that he was. cold lips trailed down your neck, nipping lightly. you evoked an instinct to consumeconsumeconsume, but for now he’d leave just a trail of shallow marks, little crescents fading to bruises by morning. proof that he’d been a ‘good’ lover and a ‘bad’ upper moon.
before you could squirm away, he caught you around the waist and tumbled you back onto the futon in a careless sprawl of limbs. laughter spilled out as he pressed you down, his birch-coloured hair framing your face like a halo of moonlight. “where d’you think you’re going?” he chirps, the very picture of mischief. “can’t leave me all alone— that’s just cruel!”
when he trailed lower, tongue flicking out to tease your already-sensitive nipple, you swatted his shoulder. “dōma!” you hissed, exasperation colouring your voice.
“what in the world has gotten into you?”
“ouchie! now was that really necessary?” dōma whined, lower lip jutting in a pout that belied the gleam in his rainbow eyes. “i was just tasting,” his words muffled as his hot wet tongue flicked once more. “you’re so cute… i could eat you right up.”
he propped himself on an elbow, watching you with a dopey, lovelorn smile. one you’d come to expect from him, and often it made you feel as though the two of you were in on some bone-chilling farce. for behind those hypnotic, iridescent irises, there was usually nothing at all.
but something shifted. and dōma must have felt it too, because for the briefest instant, a shallow crease appeared between his brows, uncertainty marring the usual placidity of his face. quickly followed by the rosy blush dusting his cheeks, wholly out of place. he blinked, once, twice, as though surprised by himself.
and then, the mask was back on place. whatever had just passed—some errant chemical mimicry of emotion or simply a trick of nerves—he dismissed it without a second thought. familiar vacancy settled back in, tranquil as ice reforming over water. a soft chuckle escaped and when he bent down again, brushing his lips against the curve of your throat, there was tenderness. whether it was genuine or only another act in his repertoire, you could no longer tell. it scarcely mattered.
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Douma had asked for a kiss so many times that Y/N had lost count.
At first, it was annoying. Then it became background noise. Every day, he would somehow find a way to bring it up. While she was reading, while they were eating, while she was trying to have a moment of peace. It was always the same thing. "Just one kiss". And every time, she would reject him without even looking up.
Yet somehow, he never stopped asking.
Maybe that was why she finally gave in.
The room was quiet that evening. No followers. No distractions. Just the two of them sitting together as the sun slowly disappeared beyond the windows. For once, Douma wasn't talking endlessly. He was resting his head against her shoulder, enjoying the rare comfort of her hand running through his hair.
When he looked up at her, his colorful eyes were softer than usual.
"Can I have a kiss?"
It was the same question he had asked countless times before. This time, however, Y/N closed her book and looked at him properly.
"...Okay."
For a moment, Douma simply stared.
It was such a simple answer, yet it felt impossible to believe. The grin on his face slowly disappeared, replaced by something almost vulnerable. Something genuine. He searched her face as if expecting her to take it back.
"Really?"
Y/N nodded.
The excitement that lit up his face made him look younger somehow. Less like an Upper Rank demon and more like someone who had just been handed the world.
Slowly, he moved closer.
Y/N could feel his eyes on her. Feel the anticipation. The happiness.
It was almost embarrassing how much a single kiss meant to him.
She leaned forward.
Douma did the same.
The distance between them disappeared little by little until there was barely anything left.
And then—
The sound of a biwa echoed through the room.
Everything stopped.
The walls shifted.
The floor distorted.
Y/N immediately recognized it.
Infinity Castle.
Douma did too.
The joy on his face vanished instantly.
"No."
The room continued to change around him.
His hand immediately reached for hers.
"No, no, no, no—"
For the first time since she'd known him, Y/N heard actual panic in his voice.
"DON'T DO THIS TO ME."
The castle swallowed him whole before he could get any closer.
And just like that, he was gone.
The room fell silent.
Y/N sat there for a moment before a laugh escaped her lips. Then another. Soon she couldn't stop laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.
Meanwhile, inside Infinity Castle, Douma appeared among the Upper Moons looking as though his soul had been ripped from his body.
The others could feel the tension in the air as they waited for Muzan's arrival, yet Douma wasn't paying attention to any of it. He stood there completely still, staring at the floor with the expression of a man who had lost everything.
All because after weeks of begging, months of asking, and countless rejections—
He had finally gotten his kiss.
Only for Nakime to take him away before it could happen.
And somewhere deep inside, Douma decided that the moment this meeting ended, he was running straight back to Y/N.
Because there was no way he was letting fate steal it from him twice.
a/n: hii! this is my first time posting on here so I’m a little nervous. if there are any characters you’d like me to write for in the future, please feel free to let me know! anyways i hope you enjoy my take on douma hehe 💗
• douma is VERY clingy. he loves being around you, no matter where you go, you guys are basically together every second. if you ever need some time alone and tell him that, he would just stare at you while smiling and say some nonsense like “but why do you want to be alone?” or “its okay we can be alone together!”
• this man’s love language is definitely physical touch and gift-giving. you guys could be walking together or talking and he is always way closer than he needs to be. he will hold your hand wherever you go saying stuff like “you’re so tiny! if i let go of your hand i’ll lose you!” or sometimes he will just grab you out of nowhere and sit you on his lap with your back facing him, and hug you tightly while nuzzling his head in your neck. if you ever mention wanting new clothes or jewelry, expect to have your closet full with brand new clothes, and your jewelry box to be filled with the finest of gems the next day
• while talking about your interests (or anything really), douma listens carefully, he wants to know everything about you, the littlest things you say fascinate him deeply. he wants to understand why you make him feel the way he does, since he doesn’t feel any kind of emotion. he gets confused about the feeling he gets when he’s around you as no one else has ever made him feel the way you do. he listens to you with a smile on his face and his vibrant kaleidoscopic eyes stare at you in awe, hearing you talk or laugh is like music to his ears. while you’re talking sometimes he will lean in closer just to move a loose strand of hair from your face
• he absolutely loves teasing you, any reaction you give him (positive or negative) is enough for him. he just loves seeing you get all flustered and turning pink from the small comments he makes. sometimes he says the most atrocious things out of the blue and sees nothing wrong with what he just said. “you look so cute like that,” he says resting his head in the palm of his hand “i wonder how you would look if i-“ you immediately cut him off, already knowing what he’s gonna say next, all while covering your flustered face with your hands. “hm? did i say something wrong?” he says with a innocent smile resting on his face
• when douma gets jealous, he gets JEALOUS. he tries to act like it doesn’t bother him when you talk to his other male devotees, even if you just exchanged a few words, but deep down it eats him from the inside. he doesn’t even understand what he’s feeling, just that it doesn’t feel right. if he catches you talking to a guy other than him, he will make any excuse to quickly get you out of there. if you ask him whats wrong he will just brush it off and say that he misses you (he saw you 5 minutes ago). the next day expect to never see the same person again, if you ask douma about it he will just give you a closed eyed smile and say, “oh unfortunately they’ve decided to leave,” you look at him confused while he puts a hand on his chest acting saddened by the thought of it “it’s such a shame.” you ultimately believe him, but you can’t help but feel curiosity course through you wondering why they left so suddenly
• he absolutely loves playing with your hair, any chance he gets he’s either brushing your hair or styling it for you. you don’t mind, if anything you like it when he drops whatever he’s doing to give you his full attention. he’s really careful when he touches your hair, like it’s the most delicate thing he’s ever touched, after all he doesn’t want to hurt you. he’s always whispering sweet stuff to you while he brushes it like “what lovely hair you have hm?” or “your hair’s so soft i could touch it forever!”
• if you’re ever feeling sad or upset, douma can sense it from you before you even tell him. he will bring it upon himself to find out what made you feel like that, if you refuse to tell him he will eventually find out himself. he will try to comfort you by bringing your favourite foods, new clothes, or even just staying with you incase you need to talk to him. although he’s doing all this he doesn’t understand what you’re feeling, everything he’s doing is learned from seeing other human interactions. he wants to see you back to your normal self and will do everything to cheer you up
• he likes watching you eat, knowing you’ve eaten something puts his mind at ease. he will always make sure he gets you the finest foods, all while trying to find out what what you love and what you hate. sometimes he will feed you himself just to see how cute you look while eating. if you get full and tell him that he should eat something too and give him a plate of food, he just smiles at you and tells you he’s full or you realize the plate stays untouched the whole time. you get confused as you realize you’ve never seen him eat around you. (you will never know)
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It was one of those lunches where the conversation had started with homework, somehow detoured into whether Grim counted as a cat, and then stalled for a solid thirty seconds.
Yuu, who had been quietly scrolling through something on her phone while eating, suddenly looked up.
“…Okay, but the beastfolk are born as animal form, right?”
Jack nodded once. “For species that naturally have animal forms, yeah.”
Yuu hummed.
“I am just thinking… if a human gets pregnant by one of them, maybe the gestation period is the same as the animals as well.”
Ace looked over immediately.
“…What.”
“Like lions and hyenas both have gestation periods around a hundred days.”
She spoke with the same tone someone would use to comment on the weather.
“If the cubs are smaller, maybe there isn’t much tummy to show off.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Deuce slowly lowered the carton of milk he’d been drinking.
“…How.”
“…did you.”
“…get here.”
“I’m curious.”
“No, I understand you’re curious,” Ace said. “I’m asking how your brain got here.”
“It makes sense,” Yuu replied. “If beastfolk biology differs from humans, there’d probably be differences.”
Epel blinked.
“…Huh.”
Jack sighed.
“I don’t know.”
Everyone turned to him.
He frowned.
“What?”
Ace pointed dramatically.
“You’re the beastman!”
“I am a wolf,” Jack said flatly. “Not an obstetrician.”
“Fair.”
Yuu nodded thoughtfully.
“So there are things you just… don’t know.”
“Yes.”
“Would your parents know?”
Jack nearly choked on his water.
“I’m not asking my parents that!”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d have to explain why I’m asking!”
Epel laughed so hard he had to set his spoon down.
“Oh my god.”
Deuce looked genuinely invested now.
“I mean…”
He hesitated.
“…there’s probably magical medicine for that.”
“There has to be,” Jack agreed.
“Because otherwise doctors would have a nightmare figuring out due dates.”
Yuu pointed at Deuce.
“Exactly.”
Ace threw both hands into the air.
“WHY ARE YOU TWO TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY?”
“Because it’s an interesting biology question,” Deuce defended.
“It is!”
“It is not lunchtime conversation!”
Sebek, who had remained blissfully uninvolved until now, looked up from his meal.
“…What precisely are we discussing?”
“No,” Ace said immediately.
“We’re not.”
Yuu answered anyway.
“I’m wondering whether beastfolk pregnancies follow human gestation or the corresponding animal’s.”
Sebek froze.
“…”
“…”
“I regret asking.”
“You didn’t ask,” Epel pointed out.
“I regret hearing.”
Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I doubt there’s one answer.”
Everyone looked at him again.
He shrugged.
“There are dozens of beastfolk species.”
“Oh.”
“Different mammals already have different pregnancies.”
“So it’d probably depend on the species.”
Yuu nodded slowly.
“That makes the most sense.”
Ace stared between them.
“I hate that this has become educational.”
Deuce looked at Jack.
“So wolves would probably be different from lions.”
“I’d assume so.”
“And rabbits.”
“And rabbits.”
“And squirrels.”
“And squirrels.”
Epel grinned.
“So somewhere there’s a textbook covering all this.”
“There almost definitely is,” Jack admitted.
Yuu looked delighted.
“I want to read it.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“I absolutely do.”
“I am begging you,” Ace said, “never become friends with the school nurse.”
“I’m already friends with the librarian.”
“…That’s somehow worse.”
Grim hopped onto the bench, balancing a plate piled suspiciously high with fish.
Helloo is it okay to request a fic with Jack, Kalim and Leona and the morning after him and Yuu's wedding? As in how they'd act the morning after they got married 🥹
I'm so fixated on them omg I love them
The morning after the wedding
✦characters: Leona, Jack, Kalim
✦fem!reader
✦OVER THE TOP FLUFF!!! GET READY!
Leona Kingscholar
The morning sun filtered lazily through the curtains, bathing everything in warm golden light. For once, Leona was awake before you. He lays on his side, propped up on one elbow, just watching your relaxed, carefree face. The wedding yesterday had been exhausting, all the noise, the people, the formalities. You must be tired.
His gaze drifted to your hand resting on the pillow. Slowly, gently, he reached out and brought it closer, thumb stroking over the wedding ring on your finger. A small, rare, genuinely soft smile tugged at his lips. He lifted your hand to his mouth and pressed a lingering kiss to the ring.
You stirred slightly at the touch, eyes fluttering open. “Leona…?” you mumbled sleepily.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he simply wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.
“It’s still early.” he murmured, voice rough with sleep but oh so gentle. “Go back to sleep, herbivore.”
You relaxed into his warmth almost immediately, drifting off again with a soft sigh. Once your breathing evened out, Leona buried his face in your hair and whispered, so quietly it was almost lost in the morning silence
“Thank you for choosing me… I love you…”
Jack Howl
Jack woke up to the sight of you sprawled all over the bed, completely knocked out from the long, busy wedding day. Your hair was messy, one arm thrown over your head, the sheets tangled around your legs. He couldn’t stop the gentle smile that spread across his face. His tail, however, betrayed him completely, it started wagging happily against the mattress with soft thumps.
The movement woke you. You blinked sleepily and caught him staring, a soft smile already on your lips. “Good morning, my handsome husband~” you said warmly.
Jack’s ears shot straight up. A deep blush crept across his cheeks. His tail wagged even faster. “G-Good morning.” he managed, voice a little rough.
You gave him a playful pout. “Hey! We just got married! Say it correctly.”
He looked away for a second, clearly embarrassed, but his tail refused to stop moving. Finally he met your eyes again, cheeks burning. “Good morning… my wife…”
Your face lit up with pure happiness. You reached out and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “What does my lovely husband have planned for today?”
Jack didn’t answer with words. He just buried his face in the crook of your neck, arms circling your waist as his tail continued its happy wagging.
“Anything…” he mumbled against your skin. “As long as I get to do it with you.”
Kalim Al-Asim
You woke up slowly, reaching out for your husband only to find the bed empty beside you. Confusion hit for a moment before you heard suspicious clattering and happy humming coming from the kitchen. You slipped on a robe over your pajamas and walked out. The sight that greeted you made your heart melt instantly.
Kalim stood at the counter in just his pajama pants and a shirt, absolutely covered in flour. He was squinting at a cookbook with intense focus, a mixing bowl in front of him and several failed pancake attempts nearby.
You snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.
“Eek!” He jumped, then immediately relaxed with a bright laugh when he realized it was you. “Good morning! I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed!”
You peeked around him at the flour covered chaos. “Making fluffy pancakes is harder than it looks, huh?”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah… I wanted to spoil you a little.”
Your heart melted even more. You hugged him tighter. “You already spoiled me enough at the wedding. Now I just want to spend some quality time with my husband.”
The word “husband” made Kalim whole face light up like the sun. He spun around in your arms, lifted you off the ground with a joyful laugh, and showered your face with enthusiastic kisses.
“Anything my wife wants, my wife gets!” he declared between kisses, still covered in flour and grinning wider than ever.
You laughed and kissed him back, flour and all. Best morning after a wedding ever.
Can you feel how much I wanted Lilia to share some of his grandpa wisdom? But nope, grandpa has more fun playing a teen and I can't blame him.
I actually like their relationship, lilia is a great character overall who just let things slide, I like his personality.
And yes, a part with Malleus is coming (I just did the storyboard though :')...). Drawing chess pieces was a pain though ..
Btw, please do not look at the placement of the game x), I just put them in random places, I don't have enough motivation to look for those conditions to win...
canon is what happens in the text. e.g. merlin tries to poison morgana
a headcanon is a fact that you have personally made up as an elaboration of canon. it is your invention. e.g. i think morgana and gwen had a teenage lesbian situationship before the events of canon. or, i think modern morgana would love evanesence.
an interpretation is how one reads the existing text. it is not an invented fact nor is it a headcanon, it is a reading. e.g. i think merlin tries to poison morgana out of misplaced self-hatred. or, i think that one line was delivered with suppressed malice and shows a nuanced relationship.
fanon is the general fandom’s accepted headcanons and interpretations that elaborate or recontextualize canon. e.g. merlin is a badass waif and morgana is a bitch.
these are all different words with different meanings.
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