Small death fluff headcanon?🥺
sure, have some fluff :) i was unsure if you wanted this to be a small death x pansophical pretender mc or just small death x anyone in general,, so it can be read ambiguously. written in 2nd pov!
Sometimes he calls you by a pet name, but you have no idea what it means, or what it even is. He says it originates from some archaic language from long, long ago. You just smile and nod; the intent behind it is enough.
One day, you catch a fever. When he visits, he uses this as an excuse to touch your face everywhere. He goes about constantly resting his palm against your forehead and prodding at your cheeks. He argues that his hands, deathly cold, would help cool down your temperature. You wordlessly agree -- all of that physical affection is a nice added bonus.
He has a habit of scooping you up and holding you into the air. It all started months ago. You had noticed his ability to float and never touch the ground, and humbly requested him to lift you up and carry you 'just to see what it was like.' At the time, you really just wanted to enjoy some physical contact, but for him, it seems to have developed into a habit. You're not complaining.
In moments of rest, he wraps his arms around you, envelops you with his robes, and rests his chin atop your head. When you feel the robes' fabric, you find that it is ridiculously silky to the touch, almost otherworldly. From then on, you regularly joke to him about how lucky the Gods are to have such a blessing of a clothing designer.