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[DISCONTINUED]
[Chapter 1+2 are completed, 3+4 are in draft form]After the fall of the Polyhedron, Daniil suddenly develops a mysterious illness. He suspects that it's somehow tied to the Steppe.
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Turn away (‘cause I’m awful just to see) by Cabbage_patch_kid
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
15 Dec 2025
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So what if his former associates thought of him as a lowlife? So what if he was disgraced from academia? So long as he was still welcomed back into the town-on-Gorkhon, nothing else mattered.
With quivering hands, he picked up the letter and carefully opened it as though he was afraid something would jump out at him from inside it. But nothing had changed, it was the exact same as when he had first read it a week ago.Bachelor Daniil Dankovsky,
There is another way.
— Victoria Olgimskaya Sr., The Light Mistress.Yes, there was hope for him still, and hope he would cling to till death did them part.
———
Over a year later, Daniil Dankovsky returns to the Town, with a letter from a dead woman and a ticking time bomb inside his own body, in a last-ditch effort to defeat death.
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Daniil cleared his throat.
“The Powers That Be are the embodiment of order. There are always threads in the universe that dare to hang loose, and like a moth to a flame, they are always there to tug on them. The Powers That Be unravel everything simply to see what falls.”
“So what? The plague is... it's all gone.”
Daniil noted the slight tremor in Artemy’s voice. Artemy Burakh also lost many things in the chaos. He must also suffer from the nightmares. He must.
“They wanted me to die in the plague along with Aglaya and Block and yet, the more information they received from us, the more they urged us to cure the incurable. To preserve the town. Do you hear me? They will not leave a town of miracles alone. It may not be right away… but they will send someone.”
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There's no choice but to build a new life and live with the consequences, and so they do. But the events of the plague left deep wounds with the pain and fear of loss ever looming.
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"What of your other vices, then?" he asks, managing to make eye contact again, flicking his eyes quickly to the pout of Artemy's lip and back up. "Any of them outstayed their welcome?"
Artemy inhales sharply. "No," he says, keeping his eyes on Daniil's. They're light, betraying the way his pupils have widened in the dimness of the bar. "No, rather the opposite."
"You've been left wanting," Daniil chances. It's a risk.
He watches Artemy's throat work through a swallow and knows it paid off. "I have."
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The front door slammed open. Murky stood in the doorway, her spine ramrod straight, face thunderous.
Before Artemy could process what could possibly be wrong, she had ran over to him, chest puffed up with all the emotion her little body could fit in. "Where's my nest?" she demanded.
"What?" Artemy asked, confusion overtaking his worry.
"Where's my nest?" she asked again, her voice rising. "My bed! My nest!"
Artemy and Murky have a horrible fight.
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“I want,” the officer says, walking closer to Artemy, who tears his gaze away from Daniil in favour of the floor. Let them think his panic is because of the general situation, but they absolutely cannot be given the ammunition of figuring out the full extent of their relationship. “For you to explain why, after a year of searching, we find a wanted man in your house. Or do you not know how that came to be, Artemy Isidorovich?”
Any hopes he could possibly have had left of getting out of this with both of them intact disappears. Artemy doesn’t know what to do, he can’t talk to people like this, not with the finesse you need to get out of this kind of situation – Artemy knows how to work with reputation and favours, necessity and hard work earning people's respect. He has no idea how to make a man like this officer change his mind on executing them both.
OR: After a year, everything breaks; the Powers that Be were never going to let them get away, and Artemy struggles to breathe against the powerlessness as he has to figure out a way to put everything back together.
OR 2: The chase is over, the rat is caught. You can find him, but it will take time, and it will hurt.
Series
- Part 1 of No light, no light
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“…Yes. Yes, you’re right,” Artemy acknowledged, the words leaving an acrid taste on his tongue. “I just- I don’t understand. Any of this.”
Daniil stepped back, an infuriating look of sympathy etched into his features. “I think that’s…kind of the point.”
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Artemy can no longer witness Miracles. All things considering, it's not the worst fate.
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“I wanted to see how you’re doing. I know this—being here wasn’t your first choice.”
“No,” says Daniil. It’s hardly an admission. “But few of us have had our first choice these days, have we? In adversis, necesse est accommodare.” Never mind that he’s not adapting especially well at all, that Artemy has seen the proof for himself. “If you’re feeling responsible for me, I’d rather you save it for someone better suited for your protection.”
At that, Artemy looks up, and straight into Daniil’s eyes.
This close, in the light of the gas lamps, they are an unfathomable color and depth: light and simultaneously shadowed, somewhere between blue and green and gray, like staring into a clear lake that stretches deeper than the eye can make out. Daniil stares into those depths and finds himself straining forward, leaning, as if he could tip into that body of water and lose himself beneath the surface.
“No,” Artemy says at last, his voice low enough to stoke that heat in Daniil’s gut again. “I invited you here because I think you’re the only person in town I’m not responsible for."
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The Bachelor and the Haruspex huddle for warmth. Or something like that.
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"Have you ever heard of homosexuality?" Dankovsky asks, a confident non-sequitor.
The breath gets seized out of Artemy's lungs.
"'Homo', in this case meaning 'of the same'," Dankovsky continues as if he didn't just yank Artemy's arm out of its socket with his words – or push it into place, rather? "Homogeneous, homologous, homomorphous – "
"We're opposites," Artemy chokes out. "Didn't you say?"
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Мишка знает: матерь Бодхо ушла не насовсем. Потому что земля вечна, и потому что она всегда оживает весною.
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As the seasons change, a twelve-year-old Taya concerns herself with the present and future, through which the past is inextricably wound.
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On the anniversary of Isidor Burakh's death, Artemy decides to face the past by visiting his father’s grave.
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Written for Pathologic Fest 2025: Day 5, 6, 7 - The clock is ticking & Orders from above
Series
- Part 4 of Pathologic Fest 2025
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The Haruspex is still cursed with the inability to hug other people, even after the Sand Plague has passed. Curing such an ill calls for the gentle hand of a thanatologist.
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Written for Pathologic Fest: Day 3 - Medicine
Series
- Part 3 of Pathologic Fest 2025
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If Artemy could memorize the Latin vocabulary required for an exam – that satisfied him. But beyond that, what use could he have for learning a barbaric, emotionless and clinically precise language like that?
The answer to that question came to him years later, clothed in a snakeskin coat and with an arsenal of snappy remarks that somehow enamored Artemy as much as they annoyed him.
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Artemy wishes to confess his love to Daniil. He's considering learning how to speak Latin in order to do so. But at what cost?
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И только пуля поможет by fandom Mor Pathologic 2025 (Ice_Pick_Lodge), Meaansel
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
29 Aug 2025
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Спиртное не заглушало страдание. Зато его могла заглушить пуля. Револьверная. Или тройная?
Series
- Part 6 of fandom Mor Pathologic 2025: мибблы M-E
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Маро доживает свои последние дни в городе, где родилась, и оставляет в нём крупицы своей кончающейся жизни.
Сборник зарисовок про мою персонажку, Маро Терзиян.
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Сброшенная кожа by Dejavidetc, fandom Mor Pathologic 2025 (Ice_Pick_Lodge)
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
19 Aug 2025
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— Он причиняет боль, Медведь. Ты это знаешь.
— Да. Но он и лечит. То, что мы видели в нем тогда, было отражением нас самих. Он стал тем, кем должен был, чтобы делать свою работу. Мы с ним враждовали, Стах. Представь, каково было нам и каково это было для чужака... каково чужаку до сих пор. — Артемий опустил взгляд. Чума закончилась несколько месяцев назад, и все же они относились к Данковскому как к чужаку. Он сам относился к себе как к чужаку. Как-то иначе называть его было бы неискренне... и все равно это казалось неправильным.
— Конечно. Людям нужно приспосабливаться к окружающей среде, чтобы выживать. Но змеи не приспосабливаются, когда сбрасывают кожу, не превращаются во что-то новое. Они еще больше становятся собой, — медленно сказал Рубин, глядя на фирменный плащ Даниила на вешалке и подбирая слова осторожно и тщательно.Series
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Thirty-five Millimeters, Three Hundred Yards (перевод) by SadMW
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
25 Jul 2025
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Хан хочет применить на практике свои знания, приобретенные в Столице. Ноткин, никогда не отказывающийся от вызова, идет ва-банк и многое узнает о Хане и, если быть честным, в процессе и о себе.
- Language:
- Русский
- Words:
- 7,381
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 2
- Hits:
- 57
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The scab almost hidden under Clara’s cap itched and oozed, sticking to the wool and tugging whenever she turned her head. She would need another bandage for it – the last one had been lying crumpled on her pillow when she’d woken up, scabbed to it by the bloody mess she’d made in her sleep. But thinking about that, barter or scraping together enough coins to haunt the nearest pharmacy, had made her throat close and her eyes sting with stubbornly unshed tears.
Couldn’t it all just stop? Not just the bleeding, which seemed to go on forever from such a clean-edged cut. Not just the itching and stinging, but the prickle of new hair growing under her cap, the need for clean bandages and pillowcases, the ache she couldn’t seem to wrap tightly enough in her arms. The life that was growing and going on around her, even in her body, dragging her along while she was still trying to find her footing in it.