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❛　　Mydei Headcanons!　　ᵎ　🍂

note: I do not claim any of these hcs as fully my idea, some of these are inspired from another characters, fanfictions etc! also this can be OOC.

English is not my native languange, there can be grammar or word mistakes. Feel free to fix my mistakes on comments⠀⠀ᝰ.ᐟ

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹒﹒　𖨂🏵️　　❛　　I mostly imagine his immortality like just being immortal, not being able to heal himself. he only regenerates when hes ACTUALLY dead, this hc is mostly for angst drama shit and its so fun for no reason too. Also he mostly goes to Castorice when his injuries are bit too much to handle, he personally enjoys the purity and peace castorice's ability gives to him too.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹒﹒　𖨂🥮　　❛　　he mostly takes his mother as a rolemodel, he likes to read books about her and does research about her in his free time. also people thinks hes a bookworm because of he spending a lot time in libraries, but actually hes not good at writing and reading due to his lack of education.

@youngsweetscloud

Thinking about Sanemi who is the king of consent and check-ins.

He grew up seeing his father treat his mother less than kindly and despises men who treat women in a similar way. So it doesn’t matter whether he’s been pounding into you for the last half an hour, calling you every derogatory name under the sun (with your prior permission) — if he changes in pace or position, he’s making you meet his eyes to check-in.

“Listen to that,” he pants, the hand he’s had gripped in your hair pressing your head down harder into the mattress. “Your pussy is so fuckin’ sloppy. You like when I fuck you like a whore?”

Your answering moan and the way your thighs somehow spread wider made Sanemi chuckle, the sound rich and dark in a way that made you all the wetter. “Yeah, you do, don’t you?”

Your whines were cut off in a choked gasp as Sanemi’s arms wound around your shoulders and tugged you up until he was laying flat against the bed, your back pressed against his front. Shifting, Sanemi grips the back of your knees and hauls your legs into the air, suspending them and keeping them spread wide for him. Somehow, he still has the dexterity to reach for your jaw with his fingers to tilt your head back against his chest.

“Hey,” his voice is throaty and rough with desire. Blearily, you open your eyes to meet his, and Sanemi smirks slightly at the fucked-out expression in your glassy eyes.

“You okay?” There’s a gentle seriousness in his tone, and you know that the second you were to shake your head or voice any discomfort, he would stop, and he’d bend over backwards to care for you in whatever way you’d need.

It’s that thought, coupled with the hot friction growing ever more pronounced between your legs as Sanemi holds perfectly still inside you, that has you nodding desperately, eager to have him thrusting his cock in and out of your walls with such vigor that you forget your name.

Sanemi’s answering smirk is soft in a way that you know his hips are about not to be. “That’s my girl,” he chuckles, and he relishes the strangled moan that tears from your throat as he gives a sharp thrust up, his balls slapping against your over-stimulated clit.

“You’re such a good little whore for me, aren’t you?”

Death never brought itself onto her, but she noted how it always felt like a distant memory.

Maybe she had died once before—death at the hands of an executioner for her vile felonies that she was lucky to have only been imprisoned for, or at the hands of her own, the rich heiress with a family heirloom using her breast as a sheath she had buried there. Maybe, once, she’d seen death, seen his skeletal hands and his shrouded face and the infamous scythe to steal her soul and escort her onto the next host body as if she were a parasite. The baby she’d inhabit until death, when she was reunited with what would feel like her one and only true love, the only love she’d ever really know as she continued to cycle back to him and be in his arms once again.

Or maybe she was a new soul. A soul fresh from the womb of her mother, a fire forged and made to burn hot until the day she fizzled out into the cold hands of the being she’d like to envision as friendly and be forever trapped in the abyss of nothing, wandering in a place that certainly wasn’t Hell but did not match the stories of Heaven with the gates or whatever God or gods there were or the familiar faces of family and friends long since passed.

‘where lucia died’ tagslist: @theforgottencoolkid @vandorens @whorizcn @alicekaiba @evergrcen @goldbonne @babeineauxs @the-writers-blocks @suswriting @lucamused @noloumna @shezadis @semblanche @emdrabbles @sapphospouse @waterfallofinkandpages @calfromzeroday @andinbetweenwegarden @aphteavanawrites @bbabyapollo @hillelf @milkyway-writes @the-introvert-cafe | ask to be added/removed

I’m just a leaf 🍃 and you are the wind 🌬

You stir me up and drop me and I wait patiently till you come around and stir me up again in your torrential monsoon