tapiocaflower
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a muscle the size of your fist by venusiancarbondioxide
Fandom: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
18 Nov 2024
- Words:
- 11,284
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 21
Bookmarked by tapiocaflower
20 Oct 2025
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Summary
He should have realized sooner. He was a doctor – there was no excuse.
Yet, standing in front of the tarnished mirror that topped his dresser, excuses were all he could think of. He had returned to the capital a shell-shocked shadow of the man who had left, a skeletal parody sizes too small for his own clothes. Of course he had been sick and ravenous in turns. Of course he had been fatigued, of course he had been gaining back weight. And the hormonal injections that instructed his body meant menstruation was no reliable indicator of anything, a near non-presence in his life for years.
He’d had no reason to suspect, except for that one reckless night with Artemy Burakh, back when the future had felt like a bad cheque to write.Bookmarked by tapiocaflower
19 Oct 2025
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Summary
He was as inexorable and solid and practical as the train that had brought him here—had brought them both here—and there was something admirable about the whole thing. About his distinctness, especially in this part of town. Daniil approved of it in theory, prided himself on his own distinctness as a man, but something about Burakh’s manner of sticking out nagged at him. It was like a rock stuck in his shoe, one that he couldn't dislodge.
Bookmarked by tapiocaflower
16 Nov 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
When had it started? Had it ever stopped? Daniil couldn't say—he had missed it, missed it all. But he wasn’t missing it now.
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Summary
Daniil had made every reasonable effort to avoid that outcome.
He had left the capital as soon after the full moon as he could reasonably arrange it. He had fully intended to return, with or without Simon Kain, long before that lunar affliction waxed again.
But every plan had been derailed, every train delayed, and the last one absent altogether. By the time he had arrived in the town on the Gorkhon river, the gibbous moon had already been staring down at him like an eye startled wide by his intrusion. Still opening at the slow-seeming pace of celestial surprise, inexorably towards the night when its round and brilliant stare would burn away his mind.Bookmarked by tapiocaflower
19 Oct 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Artemy had watched a two-legged Dankovsky eat his bread with enough care to avoid dropping a single crumb on the mud-tracked town hall floor. It seemed his wolf-self didn’t care for those niceties either – gristle twisted and tore, blood spattered as he bolted down his meal.
。。。
It was all about warmth, his grip and mouth and the earth and the wolf said with every sinew. All about warmth and blood and love.
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Summary
"Daniil couldn't help it; he laughed, and the wrinkles between Artemy's brows grew deeper. 'You won't like the answer,' he said.
'Try me.'
'Simply put, I brought this upon myself.' "
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Daniil carries the scars of his time at Thanatica, both physical and otherwise, a little too close to his chest. Unfortunately for him, those scars had a nasty habit of surfacing when he'd least want them to.Bookmarked by tapiocaflower
12 Dec 2021
Bookmarker's Notes
“Well--” Daniil winced, finding it hard not to feel shameful. “...Yes. But I’m used to them. It’s been happening for months, now.”
Artemy was not impressed. "I don't think you can successfully downplay chronic episodes of your heart stopping.