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shmowder · 5 months ago

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But what if… Georgiy Kain as secret admirer 👁️👄👁️

I want to believe it would be kinda sweet and somehow tempting, even. Idk I just love his velvety voice and royal demeanor.

Everyone thinks I am joking when I say that I want that 77y old man BUT I REALLY DO WANT HIM.

Fuck, can you imagine? THE Judge himself. He's the only person in game who corrects the bachelor! Daniil gets a history fact wrong and Georgiy doesn't let it slide and calls him out, embarrassing Daniil in the middle of his own "I'm smarter than you" speech.

The fact he spends time in his workshop? moulding designs out of clay, carving marble and stone, with a hammer and chisel. Even woodwork, too! He was studying a tree branch on one of the tables.

Especially how beautiful his workshop is, it has a glass roof. His wing of the crucible is the most appealing to me by a far margin. Just look at this view!

Like he has a hobby beyond his work?? that is so attractive omfg.

I have a headcanon that he even made this statue in the crucible courtyard. The way it's reaching for the sky, humanity breaking out of its cocoon and surpassing the larva stage.

Georgiy Kain is very regal. A grandiose man in every sense. When he speaks the whole room quiets down, his words force you to pay attention and wait your turn.

The way he's firm with his jurisdictions, he doesn't humour any tardiness, all legal cases are nullfied if the necessary papers aren't delivered and handed to him within the day. Immediately casting his judgment the very same hour.

He forces the town legal system to stand on its toes, to straighten its back, and to work as efficiently as possible. Perfection is the minimum standards and he expects nothing less. Everyone adheres to The Judge's words. Remember how he lifted quarantine just by a wave of his hand during the marbles nest? How Dankovsky's orders become nought against his own in the eyes of the masses.

Even the game developers describe him with reverence and awe.

A judge, philosopher and thinker, but above all, a Smith, a Sculptor. Following Simon’s death, he’s become the main embodiment of the Kain idea, the builder and creator: the Crucible is his crucible. This is why we see him in his workshop, engaged in quite literal sculpting; this is why he’s dressed like an architect. He has the large hands of someone who works with stone and clay.

"The Crucible is his Crucible"

People might have studied philosophy, but Georgiy Kain IS a philosopher. He is the one thinking, truly thinking about the meaning. While people follow in the footsteps of others and dictate their morals based on the laws made by the ones who came before them, Georgiy Kain creates his own ideas from scratch. Every single law the town has, he made himself. he pushed as many boundaries as the kin allowed him to, then asked for more.

He isn't satisfied with simple answers, he doesn't want the easy way out, he doesn't settle.

Subjectivity bores him. It is just a dull excuse for the lack of progress. He doesn't view humans as separate individuals but as a whole, as humankind. An organ working in unison, slowing down and forgetting its purpose, getting lazy, wasting time.

It's in need of repair, of an epiphany, a miracle to get the wheels turning again.

Humanity is simply a subject for his great design.

What differentiates him from the passive dreamers is how he is a working man first and foremost, a builder at heart. He plans, he executes and he achieves results.

Georgiy does not sit and wait around for anyone, be it time or mortal. He doesn't marinate his brain in champagne and tales of saints and knights like Eva, neither does he waste away and water his talents down with alcohol and stimulants like the Stamatins.

That's the major flaw of the utopians. Very little gets done when you're sitting at the mountian top with your head in the clouds. That's why the Kains are a necessary evil to them. They tear them apart, then build them back from the ground, they direct them towards a purpose, and they harden and pressure them into diamonds so they may truly shine.

Without the Kains, the utopians unravel and fall apart. Sensitive souls and vision cursed minds; they're not fit for the crude real world. An average mind cannot see their potential. They'll be left behind.

That's why each of them has a role to play. Victor, the pragmatic aristocrat, the cunning diplomat. Simon, both the miracle and the designer, a living proof of the concept he invented.

And Georgiy, the builder and sculpter, the executor, the final judge.

Character analysis over, x reader below.

Georgiy doesn't love; he obsesses.

He doesn't hate, and he doesn't fear. He studies, and he analyses.

When you inevitably catch his attention, make his eyes drift to you across the room, steal the focus from his mind for brief seconds. He immediately asks "why?"

He doesn't brush it aside. Nothing is a coincidence. Are you another unpolished gem hidden in the mud? A new candidate utopian for the Kains to add to their collection when they depart to eden?

No. It's different. The obsession he feels is shifting. It's not in stasis; it's fluid and swirling. Painting the corners of his mind, pouring down his thrown, flooding his heart.

It tasted... like the necter of the gods.

A lover isn't something he can afford, it's not feasible within the current logistics of the grand plan. His brother–simon–has been restless as of late, the focus is ready.

...this body will not be his own for very long.

But Georgiy doesn't give up. If something doesn't work out the first time around, then approaching it from a different direction is the next step.

His infatuation would prove to be a distraction if left unattended, and so loving you from far away was the next best thing. An equilibrium to balance back the scales with.

Becoming your secret admirer, the title is a little juvenile for his taste, but it will do. Falling in love at his age and wisdom felt a little juvenile as a whole, after all.

The letters he writes you help sate his appetite, quinch the ache in his heart. Cursive handwriting and scented papers. The poems he spins for you, talking of your virtues and grace, your innocent sins, your sensitive soul.

Georgiy starts documenting his thoughts down in notebooks and papers. The more sensual poems he decided against sending and instead kept for his personal indulgence, the wish fulfilment fantasies of you he notes down, the details and discoveries he finds out about you the more fate makes you two cross paths.

Even the courier doesn't have the slightest idea where all these letters keep coming from, only that they're addressed to your resident. They don't know who the sender is, when you question them about it..

Georgiy isn't suffocating with his love, he realises how easily a sweet admirer can spiral into an obnoxious stalker. So he sends them out on calculated schedules.

Sometimes, you receive a flower with them, sometimes a full bouquet. Once during your birthday, it was a box with a very intricately designed vase. You run your fingers against the scouplted design, you press your thumb against the fingerprint at the bottom, feel the one-of-a-kind lines against your own.

His hands must be callused, each of the three Kain brothers are. But for different reasons. Victor's clocksmithing and precise handing of delicate tools made the tips of his thin fingers the most bruised, the hand becomes softer the lower you move down.

Georgiy's arm had aged skin with prominent viens, bigger hands with a rough texture throughout all of palm. A firm grip came naturally to him from handling stones and wood. The knuckles thicker, the nails trimmed and clean. Fingers used to handle bigger and heavier tools, blunt and sharp alike.

Nerves worn with time from handling the clay furnace. Perfected coordination and trained restraint to spread out the glaze evenly on the clay, to push the knife at the prime position so it slides through the wooden branch like butter.

Splintered, calluses, and bruised hands are the norm for him.

He must imagine how you'd react to his touch, to the unusual feeling of the rough texture against your skin. Would you pull away from surprise? would you lean into his touch? Would you be intrigued by every bruise and trace your fingers alongside the stitched lines on his palm, enjoying the texture and comparing your own hand size to him.

Georgiy would let you do whatever you want, like obliging a curious cat. His eyes may be hardened as he simply observes you from above, but he doesn't pull away or tell you to stop.

Maybe you figured out who the secret admirer was.

Maybe it was a hunch. Georgiy wouldn't deny it if you ever confronted him about it, but he wouldn't handfeed you the answer either. You need to figure it out and explain your theory for him to consider you worthy of the truth.

He only asks you one question: Do you want him to stop?

That's all he has to say. He doesn't explain himself, and he doesn't waste his breath.

The letters are still sent, except that he signs his name this time. If you ask for more, he offers to read the poems for you, but only if you join him for breakfast early in the morning.

He doesn't do nighttime or evenings; those are work times.

That's how most of your meetings are conducted, in his workshop at the early dawn. You sit and watch him work. Sometimes, he tells you stories and shares his ideals. It's so easy to get lost in his valvety voice. The firm tone alone demands your attention.

Suddenly, you're in a trance, content with sitting there like a domesticated bird at his side, docile and attentive. Listening to his every word, learning from his lessons, and believing in his notions. Taking every word of wisdom that he spares you to heart, even if you're the kind of person who only does what they want. The way he phrases them and explains them logically, simply can't be argued with.

You agree with him without realising it, even when try not to, he speaks what you think, you begrudgingly accept it. Because saying no would be lying to yourself.

He draws you in effortlessly, impresses you without trying, and you find yourself coming back more and more. Subconsciously, you seek his approval and affection.

And his affection... oh his affection makes you feel like the sun at the centre of the world. It makes you feel like you're truly something, a muse, a scholar and a soldier all at once.

Georgiy Kain is kingly by nature, surpasses your expectations at every turn. You thought his ways would be those of tradition and old-school but he's much more progressive and eccentric than you ever thought.

And you're the pretty bird he trained to eat out of his hand.

#♧Georgiy #♧character study #♧x reader #Georgiy Kain x reader #x reader #pathologic x Reader

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shmowder · 5 months ago

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ah, georigy lover. give us your smut hcs on your little "judge"

my gerontophilia is showing again, isn't it?

Where do I start? Where do I begin? Is there a moment of the day where obscene thoughts of that man don't invade my mind?

No, there is not.

How is he so attractive? Is this why I was down bad for Shadowheart's dad before in the other blog? Is this why I wanted to fuck Admiral Hackett so much?

God have mercy.

I'll save you a seat in hell next to mine, anon. For now, let's wallow around in our sin akin to happy pigs in their own filth and sexualise this old man.

His arms oh god his veiny arms! The arms of a weilder, a builder. A sculpter and a sculpture himself. Do you know what it takes to still look this strong and capable for a man his age?

Or how he still puts effort into his appearance. A trimmed combed beard, brushed styled grey hair, and clean smooth skin. He's very well-groomed and majestic.

The apron he wears is doing something to my brain. A kingly grand man like him in such a humble apron, rolled up sleeves and tools at hand. He's not shy to get his hands dirty despite how grandiose he looks and acts. He is truly the ideal man.

Reminiscent of old greek philosophers who were strong enough to hold their own in fights, who backed their words with action and planning, who set the foundations and principles of which whole civilisations were created upon.

I want him to throw me on the bed and manhandle me, even though he will never do it because brutality is not his style. He is far too sophisticated for that.

The idea of him being condescending under the guise of politeness is extremly hot for some reason, how it would fly over my head because I can only understand something when it's as subtle as a brick to the face.

No no, me and you anon, us common folks would never match or catch up to his mind. He'd rather treat us as naive children, actually even lesser, pets more likely.

Don't you want to be his cute little pet that he doesn't bother explaining complex concepts to, because he knows your brain is too small to comprehend it?

He's not blind, he's aware to how much you drool over his body. How shamelessly attracted you are to someone his age and status, tiptoeing the thin line between bravery and stupidity.

Georgiy doesn't even entertain your attempts to make yourself seem anything more than you are. You could try to appear smarter, stronger, or more capable in order to impress him, but he can see right through you.

You don't have to do any of that. He couldn't care less, really. He sees your worth beyond these superficial traits, there is beauty in the mundane, and the best statues were chiseled down from rocks and marble, neither diamonds nor gems.

Be his pet, indulge in your most primal instincts around him. It's only expected you'd want to submit to someone like him, it's in your nature to seek guidance and approval from those older and wiser.

Sit on the floor between his legs, lay your head on his thigh as you watch him work on shaving down a wooden branch, observing the beautiful shape taking form gradually with his careful yet confident movement.

Act as a pet should, nuzzle your face against his shirt until he gives you the attention you're so desperate for. Petting your head and playing with your hair, praising you for remaining patient and so well behaved.

Would you like a collar? He handmade it himself from expensive leather, connected every part with expert craftsmanship. He'd lift your chin so you properly look at him while he fastens the collar around your neck.

Or maybe you'd prefer something more delicate? A silky ribbon that feels unbelievably soft against your skin. Airy fabric that drapes down your collarbone, two strands swaying on a particularly windy day. He'd wrap it around your neck each morning, tie it into a beautiful bow before allowing to be on your way.

Continously fixing it for you throughout the day, asking you to step closer, come here, just like that, what a good pet you are. Let him adjust your collar or fix your loosening ribbon for you.

A proof of ownership around your neck, a constant reminder that you may never escape nor forget as you feel it tickle your throat with every breath you take. Never too confining but neither quite like freedom.

An illusion, a mix of both worlds.

At least he isn't degrading enough to attach a tiny silver bell to it, not that he didn't consider the idea. The temptation is a constant at the back of his mind, yet he'd rather have you ask for it out of your own accord, even if he has to wait.

He has all the time in the world after all, doesn't he?

Being the centre of your whole world, Georgiy is akin to the sun above to you. Having you wrapped around his finger, always nearby, pulling just enough to keep you in orbit but not strong enough to consume you whole with his blazing flames.

You're fragile, he realises. He wouldn't want to accidentally break your mind, neither shatter your world. If dancing with the shadows on the wall makes you content then wouldn't it be cruel of him to snuff out the flames?

No, you may play and live freely. He's as much of a protector to you as the cage's gold-plated bars are to a songbird

The sexual nature of your relationship rarely crosses his mind, it's just not as a prominent part of his life, not anymore, diminished with alongside youth by the time wearing down all forms of novelty and dulling desire.

A tasteful kiss satisfies his needs better than any prolonged nights of animalistic lust. Even as he presses your lips together, it's more sentimental than sexual, pouring his emotions and devotion into it.

Slow and tender, teaching you patience and restraint as you melt against his lips. It's almost sinfully innocent how chaste his kisses are in comparison to the deviant relationship the two of you have.

And yet he is anything but dismissive to your own libido and needs, Georgiy is never negligible of his beloved treasured pet.

He attends to your needs regularly even if he himself doesn't gain any relief from it, using his calloused fingers to bring you pleasure.

Stroking your hair as you move your hips up and down, indulging your carnal needs and bringing you the euphoric release you crave so much.

Expert hands learning how to properly play your body, tuning it, and discovering all of its secrets.

The relationship you share is the furthest thing from what's socially acceptable. It's basic degeneracy plain and simple, even amidst this progressive and open minded town, they'd never understand the dynamic the two of you have.

Neither does he ever expect them to, tha Kains grew used to having their visions constantly doubted and their proven facts dismissed.

Even if the two of you are not on equal footings, even if you are world aparts, you still make it work. Slot together so perfectly like two souls lost in the night, drifting amidst a stagnant sky, a lone planet orbiting a massive star.

#♧Georgiy #♧x reader #Georgiy Kain x reader #♧smut #♧fluff #smut #fluff

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shmowder · 4 months ago

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As a fellow Georgiy enjoy I can’t help myself but thinking about him from time to time. So recently I had a vision about his travel to the Capital with his new youthful muse, who is happened to be his spouse likewise. Oh well. I find it weirdly amusing to only imagine faces of their dear parents when they meet master Kain of Gorkhon river for the first time. They can't even utter a word in his presence! When he sits down, everyone sits down. When he casually drinks tea, everyone does not dare to move, crumpling like grass from his commanding presence. Except for his betrothed, who does not stop smiling and pouring a hot drink into his cup, looking with loving eyes. In short, he is the type of guest that the household is afraid to encounter at night in the hallway while they go to get water. I also imagine Georgiy grumbling about senseless (from his point of view) changes in the infrastructure of the city, which he visited once many years ago, while taking a slow stroll with his spouse. That trip will lasts for a week maximum and when they finally return home, Georgiy will torment Maria and Caspar with silence for several days, after which he will say a dry "not bad" and go about his business, which is why the children will begin to harass his spouse.

🧡 anon

You have blessed my eyes, my soul is ascending into paradise, and I will save multiple copies of this to reread in my free time. This hit all the right spots in my brain and heart, I can't stop internally screaming. Everything you've described is pure perfect. I am so thankful you granted me the chance to read this.

That's my ultimate fantasy.

Walking through the Capital streets with Georgiy, a cute spouce clinging to his arm, brimming with youth and bouncing energy. Barely paying attention to anyone or anything else besides him, the way he guides you along is the only reason you haven't tripped or bumped into someone yet.

You can't help but marvel at seeing him wearing one of his lavish suits, the clothes he normally keeps at the back of his closet, preferring a more practical style with an apron during his normal days. The clothes of a creator, a builder, a man who never stopped pursuing the greatness in art.

Completely turning your brain off around him because you know he'll look out for you, it feels incredible to just let go and let him shoulder your every worry and responsibility as you enjoy this trip.

Listening to his retellings of stories about capital history, why streets are given certian names, the names of the architects who designed those infamous arches, the engineers responsible for the newly constructed bridges, pointing out all the details in sculptures and statues.

He hasn't been in the Capital for ages, yet he still remembers everything with perfect accuracy. Georgiy lets you view the world through his eyes for a second, an insider view into the Capital's most important figures that he personally knew. The governor of Capital himself is someone he went to the same university with.

Even if you were someone with no interest or knowledge in infrastructure, you can't help but agree with whatever flaw he points out in the city's design. Every criticism is righteous and well thought out.

But now he looks like what you'd expect from the head of an aristocratic family, embellished coats, orantal scarfs and his well-maintained body and straight posture making it all come together beautifully, he walks the streets of the Capital akin to a king walking the halls of his castle.

Back in the town, the Judge is the most important person in any room he walks in. Despite being in the Capital now, he still holds himself with poise, a natural aura of authority that follows him around.

People unconsciously bend to his will, take his words as orders, and attempt to please this grandiose stranger they just met.

And you're the awestruck lover at his side with stars in your eyes. The only person he allows the right to stand this close to him, link your arms together, to whisper in his ear about how your legs are tried from walking all day and maybe we should sit down somewhere?

Georgiy Kain never treats you as mere armcandy either—despite you having absolutely zero objections if he ever wishes to—he is a gentleman through and through. Pulling the chair for you, opening the doors, and making sure the respect he receives is extended to you as well.

That honeymoon phase never fizzles out for you, the intensity of your love would've scorched the skin off of anyone else. But because it's him, it's the Judge himself, it doesn't even phase him.

He maintains you as you are, never attempting to change or dampen your shine and brightness.

You're a constant companion in his travels through the Capital. Showing you all of its greatness and glory, allowing you entry into whatever place you ever got curious about, indulging your question and inquiries, never brushing your requests off.

There's something to be said about how always lets you be the one to initiate touch, allowing you absolute freedom to wander and be wherever you please.

If his arm is around your waist, it's because you placed it there. If his hand is resting atop your thigh, it's because you wanted it there.

Like setting a bird free, knowing it will come back to nuzzle him each time. As quickly as you depart from his arms to investigate something that caught your attention, you're quick to come back to his side.

Georgiy never liked figurative collars. He's not the type of husband to keep you on a leash.

His love is more akin to a simple chiffon ribbon tied neatly into a bow around your neck. Fabric so light hat you never feel it against your skin, delicate, and easy to unravel by a simple tug.

Taking Georgiy home to meet your parents would be extra gold if you never mentioned his age in all of your correspondence since you moved into the town. Merely informing them that you've found the love of your life! You're soon to be wedded as well. He's s such a fine gentleman, you can't wait for them to meet him.

He Immediately takes the seat that's reserved for the head of the family, and not a single objection or beep is heard from anyone.

Only for them to open the door to be greeted by the philosopher of the century with a full white head of hair. Introducing himself with the most refined manners, the confusion on your parents face turning into flusteration as they suddenly feel small, attempting to make themselves appear presentable and well-mannered.

Your family is too intimidated by his suffocating presence to even scold you for forgetting to mention this dire detail in your letter. You, none the wiser to this trial you've put them through, simply getting up and telling your husband that you'll make some tea for him.

This unreachable man, who looked like he belonged in an oil painting, seemingly untouchable, a god amidst mortals. You just gave his cheek a smooch before happily going to prepare his tea.

And he just let you???? It seemed almost blasphemous to touch him... but you did it so casually, so sweetly like a practised routine, a tender moment between lovers.

Offering his gratitude when you come back with his cup, prepared just how you know he likes it. Planting a small kiss at the back of your hand, a silent order to sit next to him.

How quickly you obey, not a second of hesitation before you've completely forgotten about your previous seat. Eager to be at his side again, leaning into his side, looking at him with the same loving look he grew fond of.

The trip back to the town is as peaceful as ever. The train cartridge is empty save for the both of you.

Your head laying against his shoulder, feeling the muscles underneath move whenever he flips a page of his book. Admiring the ring on your finger, an intricate design you've seen him sketch a thousand times before, it took a lot of trial and errors for him to be satisfied with a prototype enough to commission a renowned jeweler into making a golden version of it.

A matching ring on his finger, the trip to the Capital was everything you could've wished for and more. A week that felt like an entire lifetime in paradise, how Georgiy's presence in your life not only made more interesting but much smoother.

You can't wait to get back home and lay against his chest, feel his fingers run through your hair. Your lips captured his own in a hungry kiss. He remains collected and patient as he sates your eagerness.

People would think you're starved for affection from the way you can't get enough of him, hugging his arms, laying on his lap, entangling your fingers with his, bringing his hand up to cup your face.

Georgiy is indulgent of your desires, even if he doesn't reciprocate the enthusiasm, his thoughtfulness is evident in the way he shuts down anyone who tries to tell you off for clinging to him all the time, as if he'd ever get annoyed by you.

Being private about his marriagal affairs even with his own family can be frustrating for them. Especially when all they get in response to their inquiries about the trip to the Capital is "It was sufficient." Before going back to his daily routine as nonchalant as ever.

#♧🧡 anon #♧Georgiy #♧x reader #♧fluff #♧romance #I would die for this senior citizen #Georgiy Kain x reader

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shmowder · 6 months ago

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What Pathologic characters bring for your birthday Pt.2

[Note: this took...so much more effort than I ever expected, I'm unsure if I'll continue the termites and humbles part. Either way, I hope you enjoy this.]

The Utopians

Andrey Stamatin

he is used to sharing his birthday with his twin brother. As kids, most people would just hand them one present and expect them to split it. He knew better and would always concede the gift to Peter throughout the years. He's not used to attending a birthday that's not his own either. Going out of his way to indulge people was never one of his traits. And yet, he came to yours. Maybe that's a gift of its own. His gifts tend to be self-serving in one way or another, chaotic in nature, and borderline inappropriate. They usually include:

Imported fabric from the Capital, its pattern is unusual, but Andrey claims it's the current peak of high fashion in the industry. He can lend you his tailor's mailing address if you ever wish to fashion it into something wearable, or you could just drape the fabric over your naked self and walk around, Andrey will enjoy the view either way.

A Pythagorean cup he moulded himself from clay. He doesn't tell you the nature of the cup and just hands it to you with a wine bottle he grabbed on his way out of the Broken Heart pub.

A .44 calibre revolver, which is the most beautiful gun you've ever seen. The handle grip is made of brown rich wood with a smooth surface, the trigger gaurd is plated in gold, the frame is engraved with an intricate design resembling silver leaves curling around the barrel and chamber of the gun.

He let's you borrow the Broken Heart bar for a whole day for your celebration party in case you didn't want guests trashing your house. If you insist to throw the party in your own home, Andrey insists to allow him the privilege of kicking everyone out comes midnight, as long as you don't mind some bullet holes in your walls...and roof.

♧

Peter Stamatin

He tends to think of what he would like to receive when tasked with picking out a gift for someone else. He let Andrey pick which flavour the cake for their birthday was each time growing up since the adults would just cut them one slice and expect them to share it. Peter would give up the whole plate to his brother. He's accustomed to people coming to his own birthday rather than the other way around. Maybe the fact that he left his room to walk all the way to your house is a gift of its own. Peter treats the gifting process as another medium for art. His gifts may include:

One of his paintings, a newer one you haven't seen before. Despite the subject depicted being abstract in nature, there is still a resemblance to a human figure on the canvas. The more you stare at it, the more it feels like you're looking onto a mirror, as if he manages to paint the essences of your soul.

The first bottles of twyrine produced from the freshly picked herbs of this season. He much prefers the local drinks over the Capital's champagne and the pubs celler of wines. He usually goes out of his way to secure the first bottles to himself each season, but this time around, he decided to share them with you. Attempting to explain the unearthed magic that is this liquid condensation of herbs before losing interest halfway through the conversation and sipping on his glass in silence.

A tombstone he designed himself. Heavy black marble starting in the base and cut in precise spots midway through to allow for the seamlessly translation to the stained glass art which makes the top of the tomestone. The art piece itself is made from various glass pieces, different in texture and colours. A day celebrating your birth seemed like the perfect opportunity to offer a reminder of your inevitable death.

A bouquet of wilted flowers. What used to be white petals is now yellowish in colour, fragile looking as if the buds might crumble if you look at them for too long. Dried thin stems and falling leaves, flowers rotting from the inside as they fall apart on the outside.

♧

Eva Yan

She arrives late, water is dripping from her hair as she admits she fell asleep in the bath and didn't realise how much time has passed. You help her to the upper floor and lend her a towel to dry up. She asks to borrow some of the flowers from the bouquets you receive to decorate her hair with, and you oblige. Two golden braids crown her head with small flower buds framing them like pearls.

A silk handheld fan with a light blue floral design and rosewood base structure. As she hands you the gift, she makes sure to stay and explain the romantic symbolism behind the choice of flowers in the design. At the end, she teaches you the basics of handheld fan language.

asymmetrical clip-on earrings. One has a dangling delicate chain that ends with a silver moon charm, and the other is made out of thin fabric to resemble the wings of a butterfly. The earrings look like they were taken from two different sets, and yet they match in a beautiful contrasting way of day and night.

A single lotus flower. A real living freshly picked lotus flower with waterdrolpets clinging to the pale pink leaves. It's still in the process of blooming. You're not sure how Eva managed to acquire this flower in such a preserved state this quickly, maybe with the help of a friend or two. When Eva makes a passing comment on how she knows a good herbal recipe to make with lotus flowers, Dankovsky almost chokes on his drink as he opens his mouth to say something before deciding against it.

A blank book, the pages aren't well aligned, and they vary in thickness. The leather cover holding them together is stiched by hand with the spine. Eva made it herself, she confessed, it took a long time. The pages hold the slightest hint of perfume to them, a soft smell that threatens to be washed away with each passing wind. She heard someone was bringing you a pen, and so she wanted to provide you with the pages.

♧

Maria Kaina

She commands the room effortlessly with her presence. Even the more rowdy guests feel a sense of shame under her heavy gaze as they quiet down and keep the destructiveness to a minimum. Dressed up to the nines in one of her best maroon dresses, she looks nothing short of bewitching while walking as if she was floating on air. You find yourself mesmerised by her beauty for a moment while she stands in front of you, your reaction clearly feeding her ego.

A golden picture frame. You've seen similar ones hanging around the crucible with paintings inside, depicting her late mother while others capture her own likeness with. Gold is her colour. You come to the conclusion as you lift the frame and look through it at the elegant figure of Maria, looking at you unimpressed with one lifted eyebrow. If you're out of paintings, she'll let you borrow one of the Stamatin twins to make do with, they technically work for her family after all.

perfume...or is it a colonge? You can't really tell. It's certainly strong with an ever-lasting smell, but the smell itself doesn't sting your nose despite how intense it is. It weaves itself seemingly through your senses, and for a second, you almost find yourself in a trance as your heart skips a beat. Hours later into the party, you find yourself still reminiscing about that lovely scent. The reproctutions of using that bottle might outweigh the benefits, and you realise you must think twice before touching it again.

A carving of flowers made from mundane stone. The material looks unexpectedly dull with a simple design until you view the art piece under direct sunlight. That's when it... remains an ordinary stone. Maybe for someone surrounded by gems, marbles, and silks all her life, the beauty of the mundane is hard to come by. You're reminded of the tale of Meduca as you stare at the hardened petals. Which one of the goddesses did this humble flora anger, you wonder.

♧

Mark Immortell

You're not sure when he arrives. You don't see him come in, nor do you hear the door. You just turned around a corner in your room and saw him staring out of the window. He smiled at you as he offered you one of three choices.

A snake's venom, you feel the glass vial staring back at you. The liquid is transparent red, much like diluted blood swirling around itself.

A bull's horn, with a hollow inside only the shell of bones remains. You put it to your ear and listen to the sounds of worms digging beneath the earth.

A mouse's heart, it's barely the size of your fingernail. Beating still, contrasts of red and blue veins pumping nothing into the void. You say hello, and it squeaks back.

♧

Vlad the Younger

From the way he seems to be studying the atmosphere of the party, it becomes apparent he is out of his usual element here. If you confront him about it, he admits that he never attended a birthday celebration before, even his own he'd usually ignore and be absent for. He simply didn't care for them, never saw the point. Although, since the day his sister was born, he made a habit of leaving gifts for her the day prior. It's a shame she grew out of playing with toys too soon.

A ruby ring it, was for someone else. The framing is made out of solid gold. It weights heavy on your palm and doesn't fit your finger quite right. A clear crimson crystal sits in the middle, not a single flaw amidst the professionally cut gem. For a second, you wonder if it's a proposal from how much the thing resembled an engagement ring. Vlad quickly clears the misunderstanding before it has time to occur. It simply is just a ring. Nothing more and nothing less. If the size is too off, just send it back to him, and he'll take care of resizing it for you.

a precious doll in a puffy dress. It's clearly meant for children yet is still on the high-end expensive kind of dolls, the ones you see in glass box displays. It comes with two different dresses and a golden hairbrush with a butterfly engraved on the back. You think you've seen a similar doll of this style on one of the shelves in Capella's room. Except this one is brand new while the one belonging to his sister was clearly well-loved and played with constantly in the past. He hands it to you with a melancholic smile.

♧

Georgiy Kain

He's very punctual with time, arrives exactly on the stroke of at the hour you've informed him the party would start at, and leaves on the dot at 9pm before bidding his farewells and congratulating you on throwing a successful social event. Saying he looks forward to next year's party, ah, but maybe you'd rather borrow the crucible for it? The location you've picked isn't exactly the most fitting, nor was the space accommodating enough. If you offer to walk him home, he'd find it amusing and indulge you by accepting the offer. The two of you walk about life and its meaning during the short walk.

A one of a kind vase, moulded by his own hands from clay. Countless hours must have been spent in the workshop for a vase to look this effortlessly flawless, as close to perfection as humanity can strive for. He humbly insists it was not a bother, the work was worth it. After all, if he doesn't push his limits with every single piece he makes, how is he supposed to improve? Each one has to put the last to shame, or else the whole process has been a failure, is what the judge explains to you as you awkwardly stand there holding the vase, hands getting sweaty and making you more aware of the possibility of accidentally breaking it. You hurry to carefully place it down a stable surface midway through his speech.

♧

Victor Kain

His congratulations are exactly tailored to fit the minimum standards of what's socially acceptable. He mostly keeps to himself through the party, discreetly keeping an eye on who's Maria's mingling with and making sure Casper doesn't break anything with the wooden sword he insisted on bringing while fighting with Notkin. Midway through the event, him and Bad Grief end up engrossed in their own conversation near the grandfather clock at the entrance of your house.

flowers, a bouquet of pure white roses and peace lilies, to be precise. A milky silk ribbon holds the deep green stems together in a delicate bow. A smaller ribbion made out of transparent lace makes a second bow right below the first one serving a decorative purpose. As you hold it and stare at yourself in the mirror, you get a sinking feeling in your stomach. You quickly place it into his brother's vase instead.

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shmowder · 4 months ago

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favourite + least favourite characters?

I love all of them. Genuinely even the obsecure ones like Willow, Nara, and Roy.

Even the one I jokingly hate on a lot like Alexander Saburov, Vlad the younger, and Mark Immortell. I literally adore them to death, I'd love to make memes and write requests for them.

It's fun navigating a "hated" or "least favourite" character for the general fandom *cough big vlad and Anna cough* And see the beauty in them! The intricate story and easy to miss details.

It's like their venom only makes their sweet moments sweeter, does it make sense?

I even like P1 Oyun, yes that annoying to the player Oyun who made me count the fucking seconds ingame and use every walking exploit known to mankind until I ended up with bruised numb fingers just not to fail his "quests"

My favourite tho? Hmmm... Artemy clearly when it comes to interactions in general. But I love Sticky the most when playing the actual game, in both p1 and p2. BUT Yulia is my favourite to write about in x reader, but but Daniil is my favourite to write in ships fanfic But but but Aglaya is my favourite to write in character study and analysis posts.

Taya is my fav to make memes about. I mean comon just look at this.

She reminds me of my niece kinda of a lot fosbcijsjdw They're both gremlins in a good way

Butttttt Capella is my favourite to make text heavy memes about? Especially when it's unexpected things of her being brutal to someone, or yk, the overused running joke in this blog that she kicked Georgiy Kain into the Gorkhon River.

Ugh, but Maria is so fun to make Twitter memes with. Just imagine her and Khan having a very public Twitter argument about how their favourite K-pop group is superior to the other's. Khan with his bts poster and Maria with her Black Pink photocards collection.

BUTTT the apple basket gang is the sillest to make group memes with? Yk the groupchat ones.

Ugh but Eva is my favourite design wise, she is just so pretty and her smile is so precious.

I could be here all night Anon, I'm really hopelessly in love with all of them.

Especially Isidor. wink wonk.

I guess Simon Kain is kinda meh in my books. Unless Clara is truly his incarnation in that P2 theory, then I absolutely adore him. Gender fluid queen.

#♧several characters

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shmowder · 7 months ago

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Victor kain appreciation post by that I mean I'm putting him in a fluffy wedding dress and taking him to the altar with me

Victor x reader rambles below? Extremely self-indulgent.

On the surface, he appears pragmatic with a clear head. He's never one to get agitated nor show much emotion. He prefers looking stoic, albeit a bit more lost in his own world than he realises.

Nina did all the heavylifting when it came to Kain's reputation and earned the family a lifetime of respect and fear, which is why Victor got to play the good cop in front of people, despite him encouraging Nina's behaviour. Likewise, he lets Maria roam free.

He loves his kids, but he also doesn't have a strong moral compass as much as Alexander saburov. As long as his kids are safe and sound, following what's right is more of an optional suggestion he gives them. And yet, if they endanger themselves by their own will, Victor isn't one to stand in the way of their own fate. He's logical, but he clearly had a great regard to the mystical world.

A stubborn confident Reader would do well with him. Someone who argues back and doesn't back down. Someone who doesn't fall for his utopian "for the betterment of humanity" facade and instead tell him to shush it and come back to bed.

Oh, but you know how deranged he really is inside. How much he is willing to sacrifice for an idealistic future, the mould of perfection he trims the edges of humanity to squeeze it into.

After all, he fully buys into the promise of immortality Georgiy and Simon gave.

I wanna wife him up so badly, have him happy again, slowly bit by bit. Compared to the rest of the Kains, he shines the dimmest, and it feels on purpose in a way.

Maybe you're a fourth healer, maybe just a side character, or just an isekaied modern reader. What matters is that any act out of the ordinary will definitely catch his attention. He's like a shark in the waters when it comes to new ideas, to innovation and unconventional means.

Surprisingly, a relationship with him progresses rather fast than you'd expect. He doesn't involve you with his family. He doesn't want you to become another cog in the machine. Especially since he knows how perfectly you'd fit into place with that brilliant mind and refreshing worldview, how easy it would be for Maria to charm you or his father to indoctrinate you.

Is he trying to protect you, or is he hiding you out of selfishness? Out of a need to finally have something for himself, someone for himself rather than sacrifice everything for the greater good of humanity.

Spending time together is a bit awkward at first. He isn't much of a talker, and when he does, it is stray thoughts that appear random and unrelated to each other, but in reality they're mere glimpses to the long conversations he has with himself inside his own mind.

However, when you talk, he pays you his full attention. His mind quiets down, and he finds himself...relaxing. It's been a long while since he has felt anything like that.

How much more merciful it is to be lost in another person rather than his own mind.

Victor is thoughtful in his own ways. He remembers everything you tell him, from the small details about a certain snack you missed eating that isn't available in this town, or a compliment you paid to a certain plant you saw on your way here that he makes a mental note to order more of its species to be planted.

One day, you find him sitting on the floor of his house. Hands hug his knees close to his chest as he rests his head against the wall behind, almost making himself appear smaller as he glances at the tall clock next to him.

With nothing else to do, you choose to sit down next to him. Listening to the ticking of the clock, each second passes by seems faster than the last.

Eventually, you feel his head rest against your shoulder. His body leaning against yours, his hold around his knees loosen.

An intimate moment of the two of you sitting side by side on the floor, staring at nothing in particular, listening to the flow of time through mechanical gears.

That marked the day he officially started seeing you as more.

More than just a passing interest, more than just a selfish need to own something beautiful, more than another pawn on the chessboard.

The next day, you find him tinkering with the same clock. He offers to show you inside of it, explaining the parts and how they work. He gives you his tools and guides you through dissemabling the parts before putting them back together, his hand feels cold holding yours.

You see the corner of his lips lift up, resembling the closest thing you've seen him give to a smile.

The two of you seek each other out through the remaining days, being each other's respites amidst the chaos of this town. You clear his head, lighten the burden on his shoulders, and flutter his heart, which he thought died.

Victor enjoys having you rely on him. He enjoys being handed problems and solving them for you. But he is not one to meddle unless asked, and if rejected on his offers, he never takes it to heart. He lets you be your own person first because it was you he fell in love with an not an imprisoned bird in a cage.

And yet, there is a developing co-dependency between you two. If you ever mention wanting to leave the town, he makes it his mission to change your mind. You can be as free as you want as long as you're nearby.

He lived at the Capital for a while and seen its flaws, he will dissect any destination you might have wished to move to and put its flaws on display in front of you.

If you're really determined, he reminds you that he can still reshape the town. Better yet, his family will build another across the river, a more perfected one. You can shape it too if you stay, rule alongside him even.

Just...please remain by his side.

#pathologic x reader #Victor kain x reader #♧Victor #x reader #fluff #♧fluff #♧character study

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