#maria kaina x reader

[shmowder]

Well, hello there! I have a request. How would patho characters react to the random dance invitation from their significant one? Who will join them immediately and who will be dying inside with shame?

That's a fun request, like casually getting up, putting on some music and wordlessly extending your hand to them. Maybe a romantic slow dance, or a fun energetic dance as you pull them around.

Here's the most to least willing.

[Romance, Several characters]

1. Eva

There isn't a single person on this planet who's more willing to follow you to the end of the Earth than a deeply infatuated Eva. She wants to dance with you all the time. To kiss you until you both drown.

When has Eva ever refused you a whim or a craving? When has she ever denied your affection? Be it hugs, twirls, or even your extended hand. Inviting her to join you in this declaration of love out of the blue.

Overjoyed, her enthusiasm is infectious as she accepts your offer in a heartbeat. Standing on her toes and letting you spin her around. Falling into your arms and humming alongside the melody in the air.

-

2. Vlad Jr.

Is love hereditary? The urge to put your partner on a pedestal and appease their every wish seems to run deep in the Olgimskys' genetics. For the average person, getting a favour out of Vlad Jr. is more akin to pulling teeth, and yet all the stubbornness fizzles into thin air once his beloved comes into the equation.

He's just curious and indulging you, is what he says. He definitely doesn't melt the second your fingers brush against his hand. He doesn't forget the concept of embarrassment once your lips curl into a smile as you whisper his name, urge him to leave the chair and stand on his feet.

He imagines putting his hand on your waist, a crystal clear picture before he follows through with the act. He imagines yours on his shoulder. He's even already predicted the pain from that one misstep you'd have over his foot. Yet he still does it all the same, follows through like it's his lifelong dream that he suddenly remembered he must achieve.

-

3. Bad Grief

If shame was ever worth a dime to him, your dearest wouldn't have become a criminal to begin with. That ship sailed long ago. Neither does he attempt much to keep his tough guy act going.

Sure, your request would harm his street credit and make him appear as more of a softie, so what? He can just raise it again after. Put people back in their place. This warehouse isn't a sand castle threatening to topple over at the slightest display of fragile masculinity. His people are loyal to a fault.

And he's sick of the same old boring routine. Look at you switching it up a little with a dance or two! although, a little cliché, don't you think? Not that he's complaining, if anything, he's the one pulling you back into even more dancing until your legs grow sore.

-

4. Artemy

It takes little effort besides the suggestion itself to convince him, maybe bat your eyelashes a little, hug his arm, and he's completely yours for the time being.

He used to watch the herb brides dance as a kid. He had his fair share of drunk soldiers stumbling around and dragging the "surgeon who saved their life" into a clumsy rowdy dance. Artemy's body is the most comfortable swaying around, deliberate controlled steps, large hands holding you close and preventing you from stumbling to the ground.

Definitely improvises, weirdly good at it. Has no problem following your leads if you ever take control of the dance. The atmosphere is light-hearted. He hasn't done something simply, just fun in a long time. The dance ends in laughter as sticky marches upstairs to ask what's all this ruckus is about. Some people are actually trying to sleep in this house, you know.

-

5. Lara

She reluctantly agrees after you plead your case for a while. A sigh leaving her lips as she gets up to join you. She's rigid at first, unsure movement and distant eyes. Clearly, her mind is preoccupied with a different matter, putting up very little resistance as you move her around.

So much weights on her mind, it's hard to forgo all her worries and simply be in the moment with you. Feel her heartbeat drumming along to the music, your touch on the nape of her neck, the warmth of your body so close by.

Eventually, she gives in. Walls melting as she regains her strength with a deep breath, putting her foot down and dancing to her own rhythm rather than simply making you trudge her limbless body around. She moves with fervour and passion, repressed emotions resurfacing, it's you who struggles to keep up with her. By the end, you're both breathless laying on the ground.

-

6. Daniil

He's too busy, he doesn't have the time. Why don't you just go to a club if you want to dance so bad? Not to mention, you're in public right now. He would like to maintain his dignity and not have the people talking about the mad doctor who lost his mind and started dancing in the streets just yet.

But if you're going to be persistent, fine. He'll do it, only to make you happy. He isn't exactly in the mood, but sure, once the two of you are back at the comfortable privacy of your home, then he'd gladly play the gentleman role as much as you want.

Daniil enjoys it more than he lets in, having someone who looks forward to dancing with him, specifically him. Even if it conflicts with his schedule, he'll make the time for you.

-

7. Stakh

He hasn't danced in...very long. Probably since he was a kid. Once his limb grew too tall, height too awkward, body too large for someone to properly hold.

The refusal comes out of his mouth before he has time to think about it, shaking his head and denying your earnest request. A guilty look in his eyes as your shoulders deflate.

It feels wrong, gnaws at his throat, he doesn't want to stand up. It doesn't feel appropriate yet, to celebrate, not when it's barely been a year since...he passed away. A part of him wants it, to take you in his arms and twirl you around, to smile with shakey lips as he attempts his best to recall the steps, to be a good dance partner for you, a good partner in general worthy of your heart. But he feels frozen in place, sitting on the wooden chair, back slightly hunched as he watches you move, still brimming with life.

-

8. Yulia

It's not that she doesn't want to. It's more of her leg not allowing her to. Making it greatly difficult for her to move around so freely. On some days things are fine and she's able to walk around the street she carved, on other days...not so much. Even the pain of her body weight pressuring down her leg as she stands is far too much to endure.

A cane might have made it easier, but she doesn't want one, nor does she care to explain why. She's more than content to sit down, nurse her drink, and watch you waltz around.

True to her word, she does pay attention. Clear eyes following your every move, her finger tapping against the table with the rhythm of the music. Maybe with enough liquid courage, she might stand up and join you for a few seconds. Although you'd have to be the one to sit her back down before she strains her ankle for more than she can endure in a moment of spite against the world.

-

9. Andrey

Just because he spends 90% of his day in a bar doesn't mean he's down to dancing. He watches others dance, not the other way around. The observer, never the entertainer.

Is what he claims, but in reality he doesn't mind dancing as long as he's in the mood. Make him think it's his idea, Andrey always chases after his desires, it's not that hard to make him desire having your bodies pressed together and moving to the beat of music in the air.

You'll have to be clever, plan ahead, and build up to the dance invitation. Getting Andrey to agree to something isn't that different from attempting to appease a greek god into granting you his favour.

-

10. Peter

It would take nothing short of a miracle to get the man to depart from his beloved corner to sulk in and actually use his god-given tissue connectors to frail his limbs around.

Peter doesn't like moving much—wait no, let me rephrase. Peter doesn't like moving much when it's not on his own terms and mood. His habit of swaying around in place only extends so far, attempt to reach for him, and he'll recoil away with a bothered expression.

He doesn't like changing his schedule for someone else, and most of all, he doesn't like getting bored. Most of his own ideas do not interest him for more than a passing second, and he's the innovative genius architect of the decade—if not century. What hope do you have with your average imagination? Even in love, he tends to be self-centered. Wanting things to go his way. For you to pay attention to him and his interests, rarely indulging yours. Why dance? Aren't we all just dancing clowns in the circus of life? Isn't society already a big masquerade? All music sounds the same, you're not doing anything new, so why even try? He might stare at you with blank eyes, dissociating halfway through.

-

11. Maria

Sit down before you embarrass her any further. She loves you, but this isn't the time nor the place for your impulsive shenanigans.

Spend enough time around the utopian bunch, and you, too, will quickly develop immunity to these eccentric types and their silly requests. Your display doesn't impress her. She's not letting her morning tea go cold just because you felt like taking her for a spin.

There is etiquette to these things, considerations. And your behaviour will reflect on her as well, she didn't marry so she could babysit, have some self control and wait your turn between all the other people and responsibilities demanding her attention.

[shmowder]

wanna play more with the Edwardian era period-typical homophobia and the Pathologic world. Specifically, where you end up being their gay awakening. Yulia and her "roommate" or Andrey and his "midnight friend"

Rubin, who's so deep into the closet that he found Narnia. Only for you come along willy nilly, on a random day, and accidentally trigger the major gay awakening of his lifetime. You're a guy, a man, you're a whole man and yet when you press your hand to his and make a passing comment about how big his palm is, blood immediately rushes downwards, leaving poor Stakh standing there in astonishment as the realisation sinks in, the many implications of this sudden revelation.

For some characters like Peter and Eva, it wouldn't phase them, but what about the more repressed and straight-lined characters? How would Alexander Saburov react to realising that his new right-hand man is extremely easy on the eyes and maybe he can't help but imagine you in a dress—the most lovely lavender fabric, a flower behind your ear as you look up at him with those mesmerising eyes—although the tailored suit you're wearing is doing wonders to your figure.

Or Maria, who helped tie the lace of your undergarments one time, and the memory of the shiver running up your spine at the coldness of her fingers has been etched into the forefront of her mind. She always knew women could enjoy each other's company, courtesy of the friends she keeps, but she never thought she'd end up fantasising about dressing you to the nines, whisk you away on a grandiose date, only to be the one undressing you at the end of the night.

Maybe even Artemy, who's not the same sheltered young boy anymore, the army opened his eyes and piqued his curiosity. He's experimented during his days of service—a generous amount—but always chalked it up to the lack of women around, soldiers were only human, and they needed to find release somehow. Not sparing it any thought beyond sex. Sure, he can see himself sleeping with a guy, but he never imagined he'd end up falling in love with one, let alone have his face flushed at the mere idea of marrying you, calling you his husband and the love of his life.

Or you could be Victor's friend back from his university days who sent him a letter out of the blue inquiring about his well-being, a suggestion to drop by, for old time's sake. Your handwriting is the same as he remembers. The smell of cologne on this paper is oh so familiar, one he associates with sleepless nights spent cramming for exams, nursing hungovers together from the most absurd substance, that lipstick you got him to wear after he lost a bet only for its stains to end up littering your neck. All those memories came rushing back, the involuntary flutter of his heart as he brushed his thumb against your signature at the bottom of the letter. "Signed, yours," a sentence so short shouldn't have this strong of a reaction on a man his age and status, and a widow at that, but gods, he is only a man.

[shmowder]

Hi!! Absolutely adore and love your writing it’s become like a drug to my brain! So I come baring a request! Can I get some general hcs on how it would be like to (non sexually!) sleep with Artemy,Daniil, Maria and Eva at night!

Thanks kindly if you end up writing this one!!

Thanks for clarifying it's nonsexual, I genuinely would've misinterpreted it otherwise. You're so sweet!!!! <333 I'm glad to hear that.

Sharing a bed with them

[fluff, cuddling]

[Daniil, Artemy, Maria, Eva - GN Reader]

Daniil Dankovsky

It depends greatly on if he's still residing at the stillwaters or not.

Despite the many overnight stays at work and sleeping over his desk in Thanatica Labs, Daniil rarely feels comfortable in any bed that's not his own.

Resulting in a very stiff Dankovsky laying next to you on the mattress, staring at the roof in offence as if it was its fault that the pillow under his head feels wrong no matter how much he adjusts it.

The night is uneventful.

He is the first to wake up–courtesy of never getting much sleep to begin with.

Now, if you were back at his apartment at the Capital instead?

You'd notice the massive difference.

His bed is completely catered to his personal taste, having picked everything out with immaculate care, down to the type of feather stuffings inside his pillows.

Daniil is a many pillows person, you found out.

Yes, even the small decorative ones, he has those.

Like a fish in water, he's completely in his element.

Tense shoulders softening as he sink into the mattress below, jaw unclenching as he buries his face into the pillow.

He enjoys sleeping on his left side.

Depends on how close the two of you are, 9 times out of ten, he'd politely offer you the bed and take the couch himself.

But if your relationship is more on the intimate side and this isn't your first time sharing a bed or being in such close proximity.

Then he'd assume you know you're very welcome in his bed.

It is a little jarring at first to see him without the his heavy coat or the many layers of clothes he adorns.

Seeing the bachelor without his red cravat was akin to witnessing a peacock without its colourful feathers.

Daniil does change into a full sleep set with a button-up long sleeves shirt and matching pants.

Made from breathable cotton, accent colours decorating the collar and cuff ends.

Fitting him comfortably. The "business-casual" of pajamas, something you wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen in by your boss if they dropped for a 3am surprise visit for whatever reason.

He has multiple sets that he cycles between, actually.

But that's a conversation for another day.

Daniil might not initiate touch himself, but if you happen to curl into his embrace or wrap an arm around his waist, Daniil wouldn't pull away.

Moving closer to you in his sleep, the heat of your body feels heavenly against his own under the warm blanket.

By the time you wake up, he's still there.

Sleeping on his side, facing you.

Realising how much softer his face looks relaxed, his overworker mind offered momentary peace.

He might not admit it, but the warmth of your embrace is a luxury he wishes he could indulge in more often, something he'll never take for granted.

-

Artemy Burakh

Whatever preferences and qualms about sleeping he used to have were smoothed out by the army barracks life

He can have the most restful sleeps on any surface.

Even a couch is more than sufficient for his power naps.

At the beginning of his return to the town, he slept stiffly.

Barely moving and staying in place, any twists or turns were the results of another nightmare plaguing his brain.

So as he gets accustomed back to the blissful domestic life where he has his own large bed–an actual bed this time around, unlike the wooden plank makeshift bed in his lair–his old habits slowly return

Artemy moves a lot in his sleep, you found out.

Sleeping on one side and waking up on the other, blanket on the floor, one pillow across the room for some reason.

His previous trait of being a light sleeper fizzles out as he gets accustomed to the security of a safe life.

Becoming more and more heavier of a sleeper.

His bed can fit the two of you, albeit snugly courtesy of his sheer size.

But Artemy has no problems with sleeping next to someone.

He used to have a lot of sleepovers as a kid, Lara, Stakh, and Grief using him as a pillow a lot.

So why don't you sleep on his arm instead of sticking to the wall like a bug?

Even without a blanket, his body feels warm next to your own.

With your head on his shoulder as he laid on his back, you watch the rise and fall of his chest.

Through the hours of the night, his hold on you doesn't falter even as he moves and turns.

You're helplessly dragged with him to the other side of the bed.

From the way his sleeping form keeps hugging you with no intent of letting go, you wonder if he used to sleep with a teddy bear or a plushie as a kid.

Artemy still remembers the way he used to tiptoe to his father's bed at night whenever he was having bad dreams

Isidor welcoming him in without any qualms or fuss.

Even as his son grew tall into his awkward teenage phase, the safety of his dad's embrace stayed a constant in his life, an open option he could seek every night.

Which is way on any given night, it's not strange to find either of Sticky or Murky fast asleep by his side.

Especially Sticky who used to occupy the chair at the end of his makeshift bed each time Artemy slept in the lair, watching over him as if he's afraid the other will abandon him in the middle of the night.

Murky prefers her own bed more, personal space being an important thing to her.

But she still stands in the doorway of his bedroom shyly at least once a month, clearly wanting to join the three of you but too prideful to admit it.

Artemy getting up with an amused smile, picking her up and heading back to bed.

With the four of you in bed, it is a snug fit.

Murky on top of Artemy like a stubborn cat, having hogged one of the pillows to hug as she used his chest as her own mattress.

Sticky on his left, sleeping on his arm because it was his pillow that Murky stole, complaining that his dad's sweater is too ancient and stray wool pieces keep irritating his face.

Finally, you are on his right with your back to the wall.

Choosing to ignore the concerning creeking sound coming from the frame of the bed under you four.

Maybe it is time you convinced Artemy to invest into a bigger one.

-

Maria Kaina

Silky sheets and valvet covers, Maria's bedroom is the embodiment of luxury and elegance.

Yet you can't shake the feeling that something lurks beneath the glamorous surface.

The cracked mirror on her vanity, shattered glass shards still remaining a whole piece despite the gap in the middle.

The aftermath of someone's fist colliding against its own reflection, bloodied knuckles slammed into the glass, shattering the brittle mirror.

Maria often invited people to her wing of the crucible, she doesn't go to others, they come to her instead.

And while that bed has seen her share fair of one night lovers, they never overstayed their welcome.

Maira... doesn't remember the last time she has let someone sleep by her side, just sleep.

The last time she entrusted another soul enough to remain defenseless next to them throughout the dead night.

She keeps a journal–a diary under one of her pillows, you discover it by accident as you adjust in bed.

She's quick to snatch it away, locking it safely in a drawer without offering a single explanation.

Adorning a crimson floor-length nightgown, ruffles alongside the shoulders, a matching robe on top. Both parts of the same set.

Her usually loose hair is secured by a tie in a low bun

other times, it's braided to the side.

whichever hairstyle makes it easier to untangle in the morning, she's not picky.

The mattress is more on the firmer side, the kind that adjusts your spine to it rather than the other way around.

It's good for your back, she explains.

Despite it being a queen sized bed, Marine lays directly in the middle, a force of habit.

Rather than split it in half.

You either stay near the edge of the bed and risk rolling over and falling during the night.

Or take the risk of snuggling up to her.

While a head injury pales in comparison to certain death, you still pick the more exciting option.

She already agreed to let you sleep in her bed...that at least shows that Maria feels comfortable around you.

Her breath hitches when you lay your head atop her shoulder

laying so close to hers, she can almost feel your body heat.

There is a moment of silence as she clearly contemplates her next course of action.

Before giving you an annoyed look, you think oh no, you're doomed.

Until her arm sneaks under your waist, curling around your back and pulling you closer to her.

"If you're going to cling to someone, at least do it properly."

Her skin is cold.

You run your fingers down her back soothingly, she tries to downplay how reactive to the touch she is.

As if no one has granted her a tender touch in years, she hasn't been shown this...delicate form of love since a long time ago.

...not since she was a kid, clinging to her mother's skirt after accidentally ripping the arm off of her favourite doll.

Maria attempts to remain stiff next to you, to school her expression into neutrality.

But amidst the darkness of the room, the realisation that you couldn't see her features even if you tried offers comfort.

Easing her into a sense of safety, her jaw unclenches, after what seemed like an hour, she finally lets go and melts into your embrace.

As the morning comes, she doesn't dare acknowledge the previous night nor speak a word of it.

Back to her usual smug and confident demnour.

Still...she trails at the end of her sentence, a subtle open-ended invitation to spend the night over again whenever the need arises.

Maria doesn't mention the fact her dreams ceased by your side,

That for one night, her mind was put to rest.

No future-plagued visions, no voices from the grave calling her name, no omens of what's to come.

A silent, restful sleep.

And someone's warmth lulling her into a sense of safety.

-

Eva Yan

Fresh out of the shower, having washed the soot of the day off of her, Eva is ready to curl under the convers and doze off.

Her sleep pyjamas are loose and airy, thin straps that keep falling down her shoulders, a pastel pink babydoll nightdress, the short skirt flares at the bottom.

The hair she keeps up in a ponytail is let down, strandends brushing against her shoulders, brushed throughly at her vanity after being dried.

You watch her go about her nightly routine with interest

How comfortable she is in her own skin, how much she pampers herself with cherry blossom scented lotions.

A beautiful smile adorning her lips as she meets your eyes in the mirror, offering you some.

Not wanting to strip to put on the lotion after you got comfy in your sleepwear, you politely refuse.

Eva insists that you should at least try on her chapstick.

It's strawberry flavoured.

Her fingers grip your chin gently, tilting your head upwards to meet her as she puts on the chapstick for you.

It does, in fact, smell sweet.

The atmosphere is light, reminiscent of a sleepover you'd have with a best friend.

Only she can get any person to feel as comfortable with her as an old best friend in such a record time.

Her bed is akin to a cloud stolen from the sky above.

The mattress sinks below your weight, engulfing half of you into it.

Fluffed up pillows stuffed with feathers, a soft cover that's seamless against your skin.

Multiple blankets, in fact, a lot of blankets.

She likes layering them on top of her rather than getting a big one.

Enjoying the feeling of their weight against her skin.

Plus this just means she'll always have enough blankets no matter who comes over.

Eva even takes her favourite blanket with her whenever she's off to spend the night over in a friend's house.

Trust her, you don't want to see the monster she becomes once a fight over the blanket starts.

Because she will win.

Her sharp well-maintained nails aren't just for show.

As her cheerful smile returns to place, you're urged to move on to more important subjects.

Such as, would you care to share a glass or two before bed? Red or white? She keeps both bottles right next to her nightstand, you don't mind the lack of glasses, right? Wonderful!

Blowing out the candles illuminating the room, a slightly tipsy Eva is finally ready to go to bed.

For real this time, no more stalling.

Only five minutes—no six, pass before you're delicately nudged as a quiet "Hey, are you awake?" follows.

You see, she just remembered the funniest story about a cat she saw today.

Would you like to hear it? Of course you would! So she was walking near the river, getting some fresh air as autumn finally cleared out.

Not that winter is any better. It's just more preferable to the twyre bloom season.

To be honest, the chilly weather isn't her style.

She's more of a summer child, but the sparkling snow always makes up for the harsh weather.

But it is a good excuse to share her bed more, nothing is better than to cuddle up next to another's warm body during the cold winter nights.

Which just reminded her, you do plan on staying in the town during the winter season, right?

She'd be so sad if you left so soon.

Even more sad that you never got the chance to view this town during the blossoming spring, the trees flourish and greenry fills the steppe.

She admits that she misses spending more time outside, staying in her house all day probably isn't the best for her.

But Eva doesn't talk to the Stamatins anymore. The Bachelor is always working, and Maria never has the time for her now that she started coming into her Mistress position!

Yulia barely squeaks a word in her presence no matter how friendly Eva tries to be.

She really has no one...so you can't refuse if hypothetically she asked you to accompany her to a picnic tomorrow afternoon?

it will make the most sweet memory, the two of you can watch the sunset together, share dessert and she could read to you one of her romance books.

Oh–sleep. yes right, ah she forgot. Do forgive her, she gets over excited sometimes.

Would you like to...cuddle maybe? She'll play with your hair until you've fallen asleep.

Sweet dreams.

[shmowder]

Yeah, divorces are cool and funny, but how about the actual weddings? It seems to me that the wedding of any Utopian would be the return of Sodom to Earth, of varying severity. Andrey is a professional toastmaster for sure!

Oh god Andrey's wedding. He's reinventing the seven deadly sins and adding a couple more, custom made by yours truly.

Words can never do it justice. If that man pops crystals on a regular Tuesday, I dread knowing what is considered sufficient for a once in a lifetime event like a wedding.

Andrey's bachelor party brings the flood back to wipe earth before the actual wedding happens. Of course you're invited, he's not going to slut it out there alone without you? It's his wedding and he will cherry pick which customs to follow and ignore.

The Utopians as a whole really know how to party- A wedding for one of them is just a chance for each of them to outshine one another. Everything is a competition to be THE main character in the room, especially another person's wedding.

Now the honeymoon? They are 100% taking you away from this dusty old town to a different more exciting place, if not a different country to begin with. Places which will put the Capital to shame.

One month, two or even 5 if the mood strikes them. They have no obligations and they're enjoying this love paradise with you. Whenever it becomes dull they'll finally decide to go back to the town.

While they all share the need to show off and have their wedding go down in history, each of their weddings is vastly different and reflects their inner personality... and biggest sin.

Starting off with pride! and none other than Maria Kaina herself. The town is her playground. The world bends down if she gives the word.

Preparations for her wedding will begin a year in advancement, and the two of you will go on many trips to the capital to get your measurements taken and have the best tailors at your beck and call. She truly plans on looking like a god on her wedding day.

Maybe even orders for a new building to be made just for her to have her wedding in. Carpeted red floors and glittering crystal chandeliers. The two of you get your portrait painted on that day, and it's hanged at the entrance of her wing in the crucible. Everyone in town is invited to marvel and gawk at her and her untouchable spouse.

Oh and if you start hearing voices in your head afterwards, do not worry it's just her "immortal" relatives saying hello before going back to their own focus.

Or on a more artistic note, an experimental wedding with Peter Stamatin. Maybe resembling envy? He plans everything by the hand and designs concepts that are so abstract and far off from reality. Instead of the cathedral, the wedding should take place in the cemetery. Only a handful of people are invited–including grace as the flower girl–it's in the dead middle of the night under a full moon. Actually scratch that, that man is so extra he'd wait for a full eclipse to have his wedding under.

The ring is the truly main event, he designed it himself. It took so long searching for a jeweler that could weild it without a single mistake. So many prototypes and failed attempts thrown in the dust. Making this become a reality cost more than the entire combined town income in a year.

Of course that jeweller is dead now, why do you ask? Anyway the ring's catch is that it can never, ever be removed. Unless the finger gets cut off, of course. it's as permanent as the bones in your body and even after you die it will remain etched onto your skeleton for eternity.

Yeah he has a matching pair, duh.

The list goes on, lust and Andrey, Greed and Vlad, Sloth and Eva.

[shmowder]

I wonder which characters could consciously have a relationship with an unhappily married person despite the possibility of being caught? It seems to me that it could be Andrey, simply because he does not consider any authority and is confident enough to use his fists if necessary. Eva, because she finds some kind of “thrill” in that cat-and-mouse game. Maria, perhaps? I think she will be a little disgusted by the realization that she is involved in something as dirty as adultery, but at the same time she simply will not be able to allow herself to retreat, admitting defeat. The most debatable choice would be Georgiy, but if we consider that he's into “epistolary affair” which you described in one of your posts, and also shrouded by his judge's status, he can afford it. After all, he was unlikely to let such a one-in-a-million chance slip from his grasp. Besides, I was thinking about Rubin's reaction to a similar situation. Considering how conscientious he is, guilt would eat him alive, but that makes it more interesting that there should be such a thing in his partner that he clings to them with the last of his strength. I am very interested to know your opinion on these and other characters! 🧡

You liked your spouse, you really did. They were a decent person, they kept to themselves and never bothered you. But life with them was just so... dull, you'd even take arguments and drama over this unfulfilling marriage. Alas they never cared enough to argue and you never felt strongly enough about anything they did to start an argument over it.

It was a marriage of convenience rather than love. Your families arranged it, and you went along because what else is there to do in such a small sleepy town? The wedding day went uneventfully, and yes, the two of you did put in some effort to try and fall in love... at least at the start, but it just never clicked. the two of you weren't too different for it to be interesting, and neither were you too similar to relate to one another.

It was torture, a boring dull hell. A divorce was out of question. People during this time period did not just divorce casually without a big reason. So the two of you stuck it out, more akin to roommates than a married couple. Cold morning greetings and never sharing a meal together, each one of you in their own world.

Was there resentment? Maybe a little but nothing major, they cared not for your whereabouts and you didn't raise any questions when they'd come home drunk in the middle of the night. They provided the money, you took care of the house, it was a simple arrangement. Or maybe it was the other way around where you worked during the daylight and they took care of the cooking?

But the feeling that you were wasting your life and youth kept eating you up at night, gnawing at your core, bitterness bubbling up your throat as you witnessed the lovely dovey couples outside. You weren't just going to sit and wither in this house for eternity like an idiot, you were going to go out and live your own life.

However... you still had to be discreet about it. Maintaining your family reputation and all. It was simple, people barely knew you and you blended in perfectly with the background crowds. You came from a humble family and your spouse was no one notable.

Were you guilty over betraying their trust? A little. They were still a stranger to you in some way, you wanted your own happiness to come first. Not to mention the lipstick stains you spotted just below their collar the other day completely cleared your conscience of any remorse.

Free to roam... well within limit, you unawarly caught the eye of some rather renowned people in this town:

Andrey Stamatin

Going straight into a pub wasn't the most creative idea you had to admit. But there is a good chance that the type of people who frequent pubs aren't the ones with families back home. Therefore, the chances of running into someone who actually knew you were slim to none.

But maybe you should've been more careful of the people who didn't know you and really wanted to change that.

Andrey's effortless charm shines through his well-deserved confidence. The eyes of a man who knew he always gets what he wants, yet never became too arrogant or let his ego grow too bloated. The worst about Andrey was probably the fact he earned his reputation through action rather than exaggerations.

A handsome shirtless guy wanted to buy a drink, who are you to decline the free show?

You heard about him, of course you did, who in their right mind didn't know about the infamous Stamatin twins.

Andrey, however, wasn't what you expected from a man with a very inappropriate reputation. He wasn't sleezy nor did he proposition you on the first opportunity. He kept his hands to himself and let you have your space.

He seemed rather interested in your mind, asking you about your thoughts on various topics. Showing you some of his art, sharing stories about his time at the Capital.

In a rather thrilling way, you felt like a piece of meat on a platter in front of him. The way his eyes shamelessly roamed your body but would go back to focus on your eyes as you spoke, paying attention to your words and putting thoughts in his replies.

It was taunting how he kept you waiting for him to make a move, for the shark's jaw to finally close down after you've naively swam so close to his sharp teeth.

Yet, it never came.

As you frequented the pub more and more, the two of you grew closer together. You became less intimidated by his deadly presence, seeing him as a safety net to let loosen in and know he'll be there to catch you.

Playful banter on your end, lightheartedly poking fun at him at other times and knowing the dangerous glare he is giving you is an empty threat because of the way his lipe curl upwards in amusement.

Andrey enjoyed watching you try things for the first time, to get the prospective of a fresh new soul becoming more and more tainted with sin.

He even let you hold his gun once, that was fun wasn't it for the fact he lied about it being loaded just to watch you hold it with shakey hands and wide eyes after he threw it in your lap.

You've never had this much fun before, everyday became memorable by his side instead of the hours melting into each other. You'd wake up with a glisten in your eyes, a bounce to your steps as you made your way to the broken heart pub every afternoon.

Directly walking towards the rather empty are Andrey claimed for himself, fearlessly sitting by his side and asking what kind of trouble is he planning on roping you into today, watching his eyes soften as he pulls you into a side hug with one arm. Keeping his arm wrapped around your shoulder the whole night.

The playfully friendly banter mixes with the sexual tension undertones. The way he still undresses you with his eyes while knowing you can see him. Unashamed of his actions as you're forced to face the lust brimming in his dilated pupils.

He knows you know. He wants you to know.

His lips so close yet so out of reach, teasing you by whispering against your ear. Never quiet kissing you no matter how close your faces are at times, making you the one who has to take the final step.

-

It doesn't surprise Andrey when you come clean about your marriage before things progress any further, he has played worse roles than a homewrecker seducer before.

He isn't phased either. Yeah, you're cheating, what are you going to do about it? He mentions how your spouse is either probably cheating too to have cast a blind eye on the hickies and bites Andrey made you walk home with each night or they're a real idiot, which sounds more like a them problem to him.

If anything... he gets a little ego out of taking you in his bed when your spouse haven't touched you in years. Whispering how he's the best man you've ever had, how your spouse could never compare or bring you half the pleasure. Making you keep the ring on while he's eating you out, enjoying the cold metal feeling as you pull against his hair.

Maybe he should just bring your spouse in and have them watch you get properly fucked, show them how to please you so they may learn one useful skill in their pathetic lifetime.

Would you invite him to your home? Would you let him take you on the same bed you were wedded on? Would you wear white for him too and play the role or the timid virgin as he ruins you for any other person who thinks they even have a chance with you.

Andrey doesn't have a problem with the arrangement as long as your spouse stay in their place and know their worth. If Andrey wants to take you out, he will. Any plans or whatever your spouse has will be postponed or preferably cancelled.

They must always have second priority in your life. That the only reason they can even remain your spouse is because Andrey lets them be. Once they step out of line or suddenly want to start playing proper house with you, they might just get a hole or five in their back.

Maria Kaina

Arriving at the pub, you knew it'd be a bad idea to accept free drinks from the human embodiment of the town bicycle if you wanted this affair to remain discreet. Also you weren't looking to have your spouse murdered, they were boring yes but that's not a crime to get killed over!

So you declined the free drinks from Andrey, which raises some eyebrows throughout the bar, but the man took it in stride and went back to his seat. Let it be known that Andrey Stamatin does not chase, he gets chased and never the other way around.

Except, your little show caught the attention of none other than Maria Kaina. Yes, the Misteress capital M herself sat down at your table. Red velvet dress and all.

Maria. THE Maria. Wasn't she from a proper and nice family? What is she doing in a dingy basement bar? You knew the Kains were progressive, but you never thought they were this open-minded to let their only daughter roam freely in the most dangerous part of town without a single gaurd or anything.

She didn't introduce herself, of course she didn't, she never had to. Everyone knows her. You, however, had to squeak out your name when she asked—No demnaded to know.

Maria had this heavy presence. It was reminiscent of her late mother's yes, but hers is more... transparent. Nina was a thick dark abyss that swallowed you whole, or so you've heard, you haven't really had the misfortune of crossing paths with her while she lived. Thankfully.

Maria's colour however was more wine red, a dark cherry, bitter and sweet. The faux airs of superiority do tend to melt away after talking for a while, you begin to spot the cracks where her innocence peak through.

Best of all, she was extremely fun and entertaining. The way she talked about herself, the way she microdosed you on manipulation every other sentence in a rather adorable attempt to pry more information out of you.

Huh she really is just curious with no ulterior motives? That goes against what you heard about her. Or maybe this is all an act and whatever clever moment you had where you thought you saw through her, was just a deliberate choice she made. You could be eating out of her hand without realising it, making you think she is a merely a girl forced to play a role bigger than her just so to lower your guard.

All the thinking was hurting your brain, frankly. You came here to score a date, not to get checkmated in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

So you told her just that. Tongue loosened after a glass or two from the expensive wine she ordered. The expensive stuff always catches you off guard with their alcohol concentration.

She seemed... a little taken back. The look of surprise followed by a deadpan expression and a "huh." were probably the most sincere and authentic feelings she has shown today.

Logically, the next step was for her to take you to her bed. Getting up, paying the bill and bringing you a glass of water before linking her arm with yours like a proper lady as if you didn't just watch her chug wine straight from the bottle like an experienced sailor.

The walk to the crucible was rather short, the night was young and Maria smelled so... sweet. What kind of perfume did she wear? It made your tense shoulders relax, quieted your brain down and made you more agreeable than usual.

It felt weird entering the crucible premise rather than passing it by, like usual, the strange building always functions as a landmark for you to get around and use to rely direction. You never thought of it as a real building people can enter, least of all a warm home.

Your brain simply didn't accept the fact that real people lived inside of it, made food, showered, and slept on beds.

Wait, you did come here before once. Yes, the memory is a little foggy, but you're sure that it happened. It was the morning of your wedding, your parents took you to the judge to sign the marriage papers and proclaim your verbal consent to the whole affair so he may officiate it.

Oh god, would he recognise you? The Judge had a photogenic memory, he probably would. You hoped the old man is asleep by now like most old people do after 7pm. It would be so awkward to run into her uncle at this time, especially when his niece is literally leading you to her bedroom.

Actually, didn't her father live literally in the next building over? You can't decide which would make you want to dig your own grave more, stumbling into Victor or Georgiy at this forsaken hour.

Maria seemed fun at least, you're delightfully surprised to learn that someone like her makes such a good listener. She is curious about your hobbies and interests, inquiring about your favourite things from flowers and books to how you prefer your morning coffee.

She'd only share hers if you asked about it. It felt strange to think that no one before you asked her what her favourite bug is.

A ladybug, she'd say while looking away. Was she embarrassed?... No, that can't be.

Under the demands and "my way or the highway" attitude, Maria seemed... like a rather lonely person.

She wasn't shy or coy during sex, she was in her element as she laid you down and took the lead. Preferring to remain on top with you laid beneath her, she looked as majestic as ever while bare, her black hair falling below her shoulders, the strands soft between your fingers are you gently trailed your hand through it.

Maria does not do cuddles afterwards, even hugs were a little too juvenile for her taste. However, she let you continue playing with her hair, unconsciously leaning into your touch. Like a demanding cat, she'd move your hand back to her hair whenever you pull away, silently asking for more yet refusing to admit it out loud.

-

The two of you formed a routine. Maria was busy on most days and barely had time to herself, however she managed to squeeze you in her schedule even if it'd just for a mere hour.

She clearly enjoyed your company. Your bluntness and lack of tact seemed to amuse her as much as it annoys her at times. Yet it was play annoyance, rolling her eyes or crossing her arms. Saying how lucky you are to have her by your side.

Maria took you out on lunch, fancy dinners, and proper dates as she'd call them. Unlike that gross pub, she claimed she rescued you from.

When the topic of your marriage came and you dreaded the grim reveal, you decided you'd rather do it than break her heart later.

The day came and you told her the truth, to which she looked at you like you were an idiot.

"Of course I knew, I was there."

What.

WHAT?

She was there? at your wedding?

oh, wait, yeah. There was this beautiful bouquet of red roses left as a gift on the table, the card reading M.K.

At first you assumed it was a nice gesture from your spouse but they were confused when you mentioned it, when asking the guests if they saw who left it, they claimed the person in red came and left quickly, that they couldn't stay for long.

So it really was Maria Kaina and not some prank your cousins played on you?

"Now that you've brought the subject up yourself, we can finally discuss the topic of your upcoming divorce." She nonchalantly added.

You really thought The Maria Kaina would settle for being someone's side mistress? Secret lover? Please, you offend her.

She knows you're more clever than this, or at least she hoped you were. You should've seen this coming. She's already making arrangements with the judge, all that's left is informaing your family. Afterwards, you can move in with her.

Be grateful, she is rescuing you from a life of boredom and insignificance to a whole new world, the future of mankind.

Not to mention even her mother agrees that this is the correct step, she encouraged her to persue you and claim you for her own ever since that first conversation months ago.

Yes, her mother, silly. Her dead mother. Nina. They can talk, didn't you know? Huh.... Well now you do.

Welcome to the family.

-

I enjoyed writing this more than I thought tbh, it was both hilarious and heartfelt at times. I do want to make more versions for other characters in the future like Artemy, Daniil, young Vlad, Lara, Katerina and definitely Georgiy Kain omfg I want him.

But this post was getting too long for a drabble so yeah. I hope you enjoyed it anon!

[shmowder]

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.

[shmowder]

X reader Drabbles

Alexander Saburov

criminal childhood friend reader

Specific fetishes: Dacryphilia + Thigh kink

-

Andrey Stamatin

proposing to him with a ring

-

Artemy Burakh

AroAllo Artemy x reader

Why you'd divorce him

Ex-husband HC

size kink smut

-

Daniil Dankovsky

Bicker and love

Ex-husband HC

The day you hand the divorce papers

How you two got married

Fluffy marriage HC

Marriage HC when you're on your period

smut oral fixation

With a reader on T

With a reader who has a cat

With pierced biker reader

Introducing yourself as a "doctor"

Psychologist reader pt.1

Psychologist reader pt.2

-

Marriage ceremony with kin reader

Deliberately ignoring you while you ride his thigh

Georgiy Kain

Secret admirer

Love dynamic

Trip to the Capital

-

Katerina Saburova

Not so innocent affair

-

Maria Kaina

Devoted knight

-

Oyun

Specific fetishes: Humiliation + CBT

Dommed + kicked by a short reader

Gently topping him

-

Peter Stamatin

Mouthfeeding you alcohol

-

Stanislav "Stakh" Rubin

Teasing him about his size kink

-

Victor Kain

X reader fluff

-

Vlad the younger

Calling the wrong name during sex

Relationship thoughts

One-sided Love

-

Yulia Lyuricheva

Specific fetishes: Toxic butch masculinity

Wearing a strap 24/7

-

Multiple characters / General

Reaction to modern reader's clothes

What they bring to your birthday Pt.1

Yandere concepts

General Yandere ideas

What their kiss feels like Pt.1 [Maria, Eva, Lara]

What their kiss feels like Pt.2 [Aglaya, Yulia, Katerina, Victor, Alexander]

with an inexperienced reader

General wedding ideas

Generel ex-spouse ideas

More Yandere ideas + music

Pursuing unhappily married reader pt.1

Pursuing unhappily married reader pt.2

Petnames Pt.1 [Artemy, Daniil, Victor, Rubin, Bad Grief]

Physical Affection

ideal reader for them

Plague doctor Reader and smut crybaby reader

Dom Aglaya/Reader, Sub Big Vlad/Reader

Old Coots Polycule

Finding out you have 10 cats

Threesome with Victor and Nina

Aglaya, Andrey and foreign poetry

Petnames Pt.2 [Aglaya, Yulia, Katerina]

-

Poly Artemy & Daniil

Hysteria

Hysteria pt.2

Hysteria pt.3

General Dynamic

Using you to settle an argument

Switching places

-

Poly Victor & Alexander

Threesome

Putting them in a "get along" sweater

[shmowder]

I really appreciate you writing all that out! Your replies are always so thoughtful <33 Thank you for sharing.

I knew being aro was a spectrum, but wow, there are so many different flavors. It's fascinating, really. As for me, I could do without the flowers and poetry, the grand dramatic gestures; romantic gestures in public? - gtfo of here. But I get crushes, the whole butterflies in my stomach deal, daydreaming to a detrimental degree.

I want tenderness! Soul crushing devotion! For, like you said, "my favorite person to stay with me only." But as you also pointed out, you can have all of that without romance. I've never really had a best friend that I would drop everything for, and for me the tenderness and devotion is itself romantic? I'm also quite touch-averse, so if I actually want to cuddle, etc. with someone, that pretty much automatically means I see them in a way that goes beyond platonic.

Tbh I'm not sure I'll ever be able to define it, but that's okay ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It is funny how we share the same taste in characters and x reader stories though! Smut with feelings is probably my favorite as far as x reader fic goes. Even if those feelings are unhealthily obsessive; I'll eat up yandere fic too.

I love what you said about Daniil. I'm gonna cave one day and buy P1 aren't I 😮‍💨 He loves her essence and soul!

That's something I never picked up about Vlad Jr. before. Interesting. I see what you're saying about Capella. And you're so right about the "robotic" character = aro stereotype!! I can't wait to meet Aglaya again during this playthrough (just started day 6).

I'm glad you think romance is fun to write!

🐿️ anon

Yandere pathologic omfg I would love to talk and write about that actually. My take on Yandere is exactly the helplessly in love an extremely devoted to that person. I write them less murder and kidnapping crazy because eh I don't really like that aspect, however the unconditional love and soul crushing devotion? Their love suffocating them with every breath they take not by your side? the paranoia and extremely jealousy? Yeah I ADORE these aspects

Maria Kaina and Andrey Stamatin feel like the most yandere-ish out of the bunch by nature tbh.

Eva has potential too! but she'll be more of a sweet guilt tripping toxic gf than a yandere. Like a puppy love crush yandere? Sickingly sweet.

Yulia and Vlad the younger are more on the chill side. The loose leash side where you think you can roam free but how come everyone around you is pulling away? They don't try to control you or be toxic to you in any way, instead it's others they intimidate into submission or trick into backing off. If there is no competition then you'll definitely run into their arms. It's them or absolute loneliness you see.

The more unstable Yanderes who need constant reassurance and are suffocatingly clingy and overprotective are Anna, Rubin and Oyun probably. Rubin will set himself on fire just to keep you warm and is the biggest drama king when it comes to seeing you get close to anyone else, he gets all mopy and extremely sad until you have no choice but to leave the person and comfort him.

Alexander Saburov and Alexander Block are both on the self-aware type. They're very aware of how wrong their feelings and extreme urges are. How you don't belong to them and they try desperately to resist the temptation but god you're just so sweet what if something bad happens to you? what if someone else whisks you away? They can't have that. They control themselves 90% of the time and are the best at keeping their real intentions hidden while they show you a calm facade.

Katerina feels the most prone to jealousy and spite.

Daniil the most passive aggressive. He tries to stick to his morality compass and have plausible deniability. Like he justifies his actions and urges by any means necessary to prove he is in the right and you're overreacting actually.

Artemy would start as self-aware but slowly give in to his heart's desire because it feels right so it must be right.

Do tell me your thoughts and ideas about yandere pathologic 👀 I'm curious and dying to talk about the great potential oh my god Yandere Aspity my beloved

-

If you ever get P1, wait until it's on sale. I got it for like 2$ from fanatical during a random sale? It's so much easier than P2 and the writing is funnier and less serious at a lot of times.

I do enjoy our talks <3 I'm happy whenever you're here.