~ my submission for this week's prompt - have some sappy headcanon drabble ^.^ ~
Julian
The sounds of leather folding and bending and creaking, of a pent up sigh, of a noble, anxious, too-big-for-its-own-good heartbeat fluttering against those thin, bird-like ribs
The smell of - yes, more leather - with a slight hint of sweat and the faded scent of the crushed herbs used to stuff doctor's masks
The feel of a well-worn, weather tested, oversized coat falling around both your frames, a cold set of bony fingers tangling into your hair through protective gloves
The sight of folded black cloth and slightly dulled metal buttons, a pale neck cradling your forehead, auburn stubble shivering over a bobbing adam's apple
The bitter taste of sea-salty lips, self-sacrifice, and coffee
Asra
The sound of an airy chuckle, a curious whisper, a deep, relaxed sigh, a heartbeat that touches your own with every gentle thump
The smell of smoking incense, sparkling spices, and syrupy vanilla, lurking beneath the petrichor of sunny spring rains on the dust of a far-off highway
The feel of a soft shawl on your cheek, sturdy linen body-warmed and slightly rough under your arms, heavy, heated hands running soothing pathways along your spine, cloud soft curls on your ears, a deceptively slight frame
The sight of golden metal and silvery blue stone on smooth skin, the barely-there rise and fall of a body slowly relaxing into yours
The taste of smoky tea, home, and desperate dedication
Nadia
The sound of rustling silks, the quiet clink of bracelets and rings, the hush of long, thick hair falling over chiffon-clad shoulders, a contented, throaty hum, a lofty heartbeat
The smell of jasmine, rose, pepper, and amber, of warm silk and chilled white wine, of flower gardens and powdery cosmetics
The feel of a heavy curtain of hair against your face, body warmth passing quickly through thin, gauzy sleeves wrinkling under your movements, of strong fingers tilting your chin into her collarbone
The sight of glinting gemstones and finely crafted metal, intricate embroidery stitches swirling across lustrous fabric, scalloped hemlines along sculpted shoulders
The taste of spiced fish, wine, and plush, commanding adoration
Muriel
The sound of heavy, rough cloth slowly dragging across itself, breaths hitching deep and slow, a grumble quiet and low enough to shake the earth, a nervous, powerful heartbeat
The smell of myrrh hanging around you like a cloud, of warm fur and chilly forest air, of falling leaves and running water and smoke
The feel of muscle and scruff, of radiating body heat, of massive, calloused palms alternating between gently splaying over your shoulders like blanketing weights and hovering cautiously around your waist in fluttering, feather like touches
The sight of thick, dark hair falling in choppy lengths over stubble and scar tissue, of thick green cloth over sinew
The taste of grilled forage and mead, of healing and steadfastness
Portia
The sound of an excited giggle, springing footsteps and jingling keys, a happy gasp and unstoppable heartbeat, a mischievous secret getting laughed into your ear
The smell of air-drying laundry and soap, hair oil and cocoa butter, fresh bread and sizzling butter and caramelizing berries
The feel of strong forearms, small, calloused hands, the push of energetic bouncing against your shoulder, of hair flying around your face, the plush squish of a no-holds-barred bear hug
The sight of fiery curls spilling over clean, pressed cotton, freckles speckling creamy skin, the occasional grey and white cat hair clinging to black ribbon, the dusk of a happy blush
The taste of yeasty bread, and the comforts of adventure
Lucio
The sounds of nearby dogs panting, a cutlass clanking in its sheath, the mechanical whir and musical hum of an alchemical arm, a confident, snorting chuckle and a devoted heartbeat
The smell of fresh sweat, warm metal, cinnamon alcohol in a journeyman's flask, hair gel and worn cologne
The feel of a padded, quilted vest, the quick rise and fall of an active chest, the slight tilt of a shoulder forever sloped in favor of a heavy arm, the sinewed grip of a warrior's touchstarved fingers and the cool, metallic touch of a careful clawed hand
The sight of sharp collarbones and glinting curved gold, fine flaxen hair at the nape of a snowy neck, crimson cloth and leather straps
The taste of grilled meat, traveler's wine, and new beginnings
Contrary to popular belief, I think Nadia is quite an obsessive partner. Like, y'all realize that she's in love with MC, right? She won't be like "eww no" when the love of her life asks her for an extra hug in the morning. Yes, she's busy with her Countess duties and she has so much stuff to do. I'm not saying she'd neglect her duties because she definitely wouldn't do that.
BUT. You can't tell me that when they're apart, she doesn't spend every moment of her day thinking about MC. She's signing some silly little papers about shrimp prices while fantasizing about cuddling and kissing them for hours. Put her in a room with literally anyone and she's gonna gush about MC at the first opportunity.
Yes, she's very dutiful. She works her ass of to make Vesuvia a better place. But she's also baby girl and a romantic. If she could choose between working or making out with MC, she'd gladly spend her whole life kissing them.
Also Nadia is hella possessive. She has to have at least a hand on MC whenever it's possible. You belong to her, got it? Anything you do makes her melt.
All this woman wants is to hold and to be held, but life often gets in the way. Please, give her all your love and affection because she craves it.
Nadia spent her entire life dreaming of this love. The entire Lost in Prakra tale proves that, hello??? Don't ignore that.
I'm sick and tired of people writing Nadia as cold and heartless. She might be more formal and reserved than (most) of the love interests, but she's still a woman in love.
One of the main reasons I love Nadia so much is because of how safe she makes me feel. Yeah, she's very mommy, she's smart, she's kind, she's a wonderful leader, but if I'd ever crumble and she took me into her arms, I know that at that moment, I'd feel loved and safe in her embrace. No matter how much I'd suffer, if Nadia told me that everything would be alright, I'd believe her without a doubt.
Trust is a bitch, but never when it comes to Nadia Satrinava.
Okay, but. Nadia has this bigass window in her bathroom. Does this mean that the people of Vesuvia can stare at the Countess' boobs if they stand close enough to the palace?
Portia and Nadia prove the difference between cute and hot. I want to snuggle with Portia and build pillow forts and kiss and cute stuff. I want Nadia to fucking step on me.
this is the only acceptable way to use the periodic table and if u disagree unfollow me rn, I rlly don't need that kind of negativity and toxicity in my life smh
jk guys plz love me and smooch
I'd make a deal with the Devil for Nadia Satrinava @nadiasteponmepls - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
