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if they tell us that we missed our train, we'll just say that we'll wait for another by qawerian, seefaster
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
06 Jan 2021
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Of course, on New Year's Eve the clinic's working hours were much shorter and the only person still working that day was the Bachelor. To surprise the man, who didn’t care for the holidays all that much, was nothing less than a matter of principle to Artemy. He even figured out the approximate time it will take Daniil to get home, compared it to the time he asked the guests to "come help out a sick man prepare a celebration for his family" and the second Dankovsky's winter boots left their house, he began the preparations.
a year after the epidemic, in the middle of winter, Artemy and Daniil celebrate
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Bookmark Notes:
eating tangerines for christmas yes omg yes <3 <3 <3
good fic very good fic thank u for writing it i love it sfdgshagfddggbfdbf
(if they tell us that we missed our train, we'll just say that we'll wait for another - pathologic)
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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 Bachelor confides in Rubin about his secret romance. Then Artemy does, too.
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“We should wait for Artemy.”
Bad Grief asked happily, “Remember a few months ago when you wanted to kill him?”
Rubin asked unhappily, “Remember when you actually tried to kill him?”
Bad Grief slammed his hand on the table.
He shouted, “Artemy tripped!”
“C’mon, this again?” Lara said, raising her eyebrows. “That was over a decade ago.”
“You motherfuckers agreed he tripped!”
Rubin held up his hands in surrender, biting back a smile. Lara made no effort to conceal hers.
Throwing up his hands, Bad Grief grumbled, “Sure, everyone blame the convicted criminal.”
With a shrug, Rubin suggested, “Maybe the shabnak-adyr pushed Artemy into that ditch.”
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Fkin hilarious and beautifully characterized.
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Clara knew what sex was. She wasn’t a child, thank you very much. What she couldn’t figure out was why on earth the Bachelor and the Haruspex were having it instead of killing each other.
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“Clara, what little influence I have right now is entirely because I have the ruling families’ favor, which would certainly end if it were to come out that— that I’m a homosexual”.
Clara blinked.
“A home— what? Don’t throw your fancy capital words at me, Bachelor. They don’t impress me”.
Dankovsky gaped.
“Wait, is that what you were so worried about?” Burakh intervened, stepping forward to look at him. “I thought you were just embarrassed because you were supposed to be working, or something”.
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When Peter gets into trouble, Andrey cleans up the bodies. It’s always been this way.
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Когда ваша диссертация на грани смерти, флиртуйте с научруком.
- Language:
- Русский
- Words:
- 74,658
- Chapters:
- 27/27
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 72
- Kudos:
- 167
- Bookmarks:
- 25
- Hits:
- 2,740
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Двенадцати дней не хватит, чтобы полюбить. Не хватит, чтобы узнать человека, почувствовать его, смириться с ним. Но для Артемия их оказалось достаточно, чтобы далеким и враждебным незнакомцем заболеть. Связать себя с ним крепкой нитью, самой судьбой, и уже никогда не суметь потерять. А для всего остального им предначертана целая жизнь.
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The outbreak is over and winter has passed, but Town-on-Gorkhon's healers face a new challenge: Daniil has come down with a mysterious wasting illness with no name, and he will surely die when the twyre blooms again in September--if his spirit doesn't break sooner. A smaller crisis than the plague, but no less personal. Their knowledge and resolve will be stretched to their limits.
Series
- Part 3 of Tales-on-Gorkhon
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Revelations after Dark by localcreatura for spookyvulcan
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
06 Jan 2024
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Day 257, in which the Haruspex discovers that those around him intertwine in Lines he’d never noticed before. In which the Architect and the Bachelor rekindle something that’s probably been burning a while now. In which the Haruspex discovers he's the last to know what he realizes.
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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.
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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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in quattuordecim diebus by Roselightfairy for thevillainsmustache
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
03 Dec 2025
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For as long as he was able, Daniil Dankovsky has kept his past—and his body—to himself. Even as he studied up on the latest advancements in surgery and the potential they might hold to bring his body and mind into closer alignment, he never pursued them for himself. Instead, he binds his chest and hides beneath layers of clothing for fear that any exposure of his secret might have dire consequences for his life and his future.
But on the other side of insurmountable loss, there is Artemy Burakh—the first surgeon he might dare to trust with the truth of himself.
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Bookmark Notes:
“There are surgeries, you know.” Artemy is looking at him with a curious frown, a tug between the brows not so much of judgment but of curiosity: the look of a man with a puzzle he is trying to understand. Daniil knows that expression well from his time among scientists; is sure he would see it in the mirror if he ever bothered to look in one. “I know you know that,” continues Artemy slowly. “You’re at the cutting edge of medical research, aren’t you, oynon? Then why haven’t you—”
“Think, Haruspex,” says Daniil. His voice comes out hoarse, edged with a rasp he can’t even out. “There are surgeries, yes, but are there surgeons? Those of like mind, whom I could trust well enough with my reputation upon reveal—or with my body under the knife?”
He didn’t mean to say this much. It must be the pain, or the shock—or the shaky skin-peeled-off feeling that has nothing to do with the slice in his side still pulsing a sluggish flow of blood into his shirt. He clamps his mouth shut again, looks down.
Very quietly, Artemy says, “I’m a surgeon.”
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He hears Eva’s light steps race down the stairs, so quick he hardly catches it. As if her feet hardly touch the ground.
“Is he awake?” He asks once he sees now bundled-up gold in his periphery.
Her expression is grim when she shakes her head. Just once. “I tried to wake him up,” her hands fidget with each other anxiously, but her voice doesn’t tremble. “But he didn’t respond to any of it. He just…” She sighs, expelling the tension in her shoulders by force. “Come, see for yourself.” Then she turns on her heel and goes to return to the study.
Artemy follows at her heels without hesitation. If things are as grave as her expression implies, there’s no time to waste.
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“You're a surgeon. You would have dug it all out of my gut.” Artemy thinks of his face in the unnatural light of the Polyhedron filtering in through the window late that night, and he looks at blood-spattered skin in front of him now, the way Dankovsky is daring him with his non-commitment.
“I would have.” Like many other things at this stage in his performance, it would have followed him for the remainder of his life, but he sees himself in that alternate path. Daniil’s cold eyes, his smock covered in still-warm blood as Artemy digs through a dead man’s stomach for the piece of paper that will save thousands of lives and condemn... A hundred souls? Are they that few? That many? Will he ever truly know how many of Boddho’s children he’s going to slaughter before night falls? Will he have the time to count them, or will they turn to ashes the second the earth bleeds dry beneath them?
“I’ll tell you,” Daniil says. "I will – the way I’d tell a close, intimate friend.” Artemy should have kissed him that time, in the bed at the Stillwater, when Daniil was whispering to him in this same voice about their destinies entangling. Maybe things could have been different. “Have I ever told you about my Thanatica?”
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He thinks about what a fucking miracle it is that he’s still alive, and his chest tightens again.
The problem with survival isn’t the here and now, Artemy is beginning to realise; that’s easy. Here and now, what matters is taking another breath, is pushing through whatever is happening into the next moment. Doing what you need to get done when your life is on the line and, by proxy, the lives of countless others, isn’t the hardest part.
That is what comes after, when you’re no longer gasping for air, when there are no longer singular moments to gather your thoughts but an endless stretch of time ahead of you with no more looming disaster to take your mind off of the future.
Now, that’s where he finds himself; in the future, inside that vague notion of hope he was clinging to for weeks as he sprinted across town, plague clouds chasing his heels, herbs and bottles and raw human organs jostling around in his medic bag, dead bodies left in his wake. The whole time, the future was on his mind, getting himself and his children and his friends to it, and now it’s here and he doesn’t know what to do when he’s stopped running.
Series
- Part 1 of Dreams of a tomorrow
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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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With practiced ease Artemy cuts the ventricles free and lifts the heart from its cage. Still warm, he holds the prize out and for a moment he can pretend the pounding in his chest is coming from the organ he gingerly handles.
Slowly, Dankovsky reaches out to take it, eyes confused, evidently feeling the tension in the air. When the heart is held safely in his hands, Artemy squeezes his own eyes shut and for one moment lets himself wish.
He lurches forward and stands back up. Then he addresses the worms behind them: “Tell everyone it is done.”
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Artemy receives his inheritance on day one. Although some of the Kin aren’t happy with his return, it does make a few things easier – like when Daniil is caught performing an autopsy. Only, he wishes someone had told him what consequences marrying the man would have.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 77,000
- Chapters:
- 11/11
- Comments:
- 236
- Kudos:
- 1,079
- Bookmarks:
- 223
- Hits:
- 20,689
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how did we get here and how do we get back? by qawerian, seefaster
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
23 Apr 2021
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After Dankovsky gets a mysterious invitation to a scientific conference in the Capital, Burakh and him decide to pay a visit to Daniil's hometown to figure out what's going on and to run some errands, while they're at it.
alternative title: the world's shittiest big city vacation
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I Stand Amid The Roar by excalibutt for PermianExtinction
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
23 Oct 2022
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In which the Bachelor loses a friendly game, and the stakes are far higher than he anticipated.
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For He's a Fiend in Feline Shape by excalibutt, PermianExtinction
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
03 Mar 2022
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The people of the Town-On-Gorkhon whisper that you get strange dreams when you sleep under the violet light of the Polyhedron. But in Daniil Dankovsky's learned opinion? This is frankly ridiculous.
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Bookmark Notes:
catboooyyyyyyysssssss
(For He's a Fiend in Feline Shape - pathologic)
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Daniil Dankovsky suffers from a Steppe curse. Burakh performs triage.