pathologicroundrobin | Pathologic Kink Meme!

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Pathologic Kink Meme!

Hello, welcome to the Pathologic Kink Meme! WARNING: This one is NSFW!

Please make anonymous prompts for things you would like to see, or anonymously fulfill prompts by creating stories, poetry, drawn art, music, or anything! I just want to say that this prompt meme is open to people of all skill levels, so have fun!

Some basic rules that were recommended to help out before we get started:

- This is the Pathologic Kink Meme, and it's NSFW! Please post any NSFW prompts or fills here. A good rule of thumb is whether or not you'd be comfortable with your boss at work looking over your shoulder and reading what you have on screen.

- If anything is a little too explicit in detail (e.g. in terms of medical procedures or gore), it probably needs to be here as well. Basic mentioning of medical procedures is allowed, but this is just in case for folks who have limits in regard to certain explicit things. Speaking of explicit things...

- Please use tags and content warnings, especially for things that people might be triggered over. For prompt fillers, please put those tags in the beginning of the post so that way people can skip over them if need be. Tags can also attract people to your art if it has content that they're interested in, so it can be a helpful tool for content creators as well.

- No writers of incest (kains which does include aglaya and her relatives, stamatins, olgimskys, etc), underage/adult ships (which DOES include Clara,) or rape. Please don't make anything gross happen to underage characters!

- Multiple fills to a single prompt is not only accepted, but wonderful! It's a win-win for everybody!

- In the case of a filler of a prompt going inactive for a long time in the middle of a story, it's okay for a different person to continue where they left off. Please make it obvious that you're not the original author, and then feel free to write.

And that's as much as I have in regards to rules! Hopefully these answered answer any questions you might have! Feel free to recommend any rules of your own, or ask me for clarification on the current ones.

AND THAT'S IT! Have fun! :D

LINKS:

Pathologic Prompt Meme: https://pathologicroundrobin.dreamwidth.org/825.html
Pathologic Round-Robin: https://pathologicroundrobin.dreamwidth.org/654.html
Pathologic Kink Meme (nsfw): https://pathologicroundrobin.dreamwidth.org/1201.html
Contact me here if you have any questions!: https://pathologicroundrobin.dreamwidth.org/1347.html

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Something based on this line Andrey says in Pathologic 2: "You do look like a hero - from the front. But what about the other end? Bend over."

+If Andrey starts out being cocky but ends up the one bending over

“Then what can I do?”

“Follow my lead.” He unbuttons the front of his pants and takes out his cock. "You're a bright student, I'm told."

"By no teacher of mine," says Rubin through his teeth.

"You want me to put you over my knee?"

Rubin shouldn't shudder at that, but he does.

Saburov spits in his hand and wraps it loosely around both of them. Rubin’s hips shift, seeking his touch, wanting him closer, harder, inside. When Saburov begins to move, deliberate as he is in all things, he finally looks up at Rubin, and his face is full of naked want. Unexpectedly, it pushes Rubin over the edge. He has to look away, biting his lip hard enough to bleed.

Saburov strokes them both once more, slow. He puts his forehead on Rubin’s shoulder.

“Next time,” he says, “next time--”

Saburov comes with a choked noise and spills over both of their hands. He pulls a kerchief from his pocket and begins to wipe his fingers with it, but Rubin draws them to his mouth and sucks them clean. The bitter taste feels appropriate. Saburov eyes him and wets his lips.

"Thank you," says Rubin.

"...Of course, my dear boy."

SECONDED. I WOULD PAY TO SEE THIS

OH MY GOD PLEASE I NEED THIS

I'M NOT THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THIS BUT I'VE BEEN WATCHING THIS PROMPT LIKE A HAWK SINCE IT GOT POSTED AND IM EXTREMELY HAPPY TO SEE IT FILLED, AND SO WELL TOO!! YOU NAILED BOTH THEIR CHARACTERS SO WELL AND BONUS POINTS FOR TRANS GRIEF TOO, THIS IS EVERYTHING!!

Rubin's got some issues he needs to work out with Grief, and there's certainly more than one way to do that than just talking.

*Bonus point for trans Grief

Please I think about Artemiy destroying Andrey daily

SECONDED PLEASE.....

Thirded! These two have so much cool baggage.

I was wondering when someone would bring that line up LOL.

OP here! Andrey calling Grief 'Grisha' killed me, almost as much as Andrey calling Grief 'good boy.' Grief is such a slut, in the most fun way, he's enjoying himself so much, and when he grabs Andrey's hips 'mean and possessive' aaah.

And Andrey tastes Grief on his fingers before he leaves! unf that's good.

Daniil (of either game! Your choice which one) gets sandwiched by two Artemys in his dreams, has the time of his life.

Bonus for any of them being trans! Have fun with it :)

(trans daniil, content warnings: masochism, some exhibitionism, light d/s dynamics)

Daniil expects exhaustion to take him to sleep as soon as he strips off his clothes and crawls into bed, but he's still awake, and he has no morphine to spare. This is ridiculous, he thinks. I should go back to work. But he finds he can't drag himself from bed, either. He needs to sleep. He needs to rest. And he can't quiet his restless mind; he can only distract it.

His thoughts turn to Eva Yan, to her offer to spend a day in bed drinking and forgetting, an offer he could never take. What would she do with him now? Would she smile a teasing smile, brush the hair from his forehead with a soothing hand, and tell him how silly it was to deny himself? Would she lean down and kiss him? Her lips would be soft. Searching. She might lay a hand on his breast, might bite him and laugh when she learned how much he liked the pain ...

A shudder courses through Daniil, the restlessness of his mind felt in his body. His hand wanders to where he imagined Eva's, aimless, drifting.

Would Eva be fierce with him? Or would she be gentle, so gentle the promising sweep of lips and teeth would stretch into something agonizing? He remembers -- damn him, but he still remembers nights with Andrey in the Capital, as brash and brilliant then as he is now. How Andrey’d throw himself into a kiss the way he’d throw himself in a brawl. How he’d fist his hand in Daniil’s hair. How they’d wear each other out, every climax a competition, until they collapsed loose-limbed together and still clutching each other’s bodies.

Daniil groans with the memory, groans with the image of Andrey pulling him by the hair, baring his neck for Eva to kiss, Eva suckling bruises into his skin … He lets his hand drift further down, down the plane of his stomach, to the join of his legs. He feels exposed, vulnerable in this borrowed bed, but what of it? He longs to be looked at, to be the subject of Andrey’s sharp eye, his assessing smirk.

Or better yet. He thinks of his unlikely ally, the criminal Bad Grief, who sizes up everything and everyone. Daniil imagines his eyes hungry, taking in the full form of him, personal as a caress. Yes. Yes, he likes the idea, likes it as much as the little shivers of pleasure he feels when he circles his clit with his fingers, forcing himself to draw it out. He draws in a breath.

If he can’t sleep, so be it. He spreads himself, hips arching from the bedsheets, biting back the whimper on his lips. If the gloved hands of Bad Grief could only press him down … or would it be better if he never touched Daniil at all? Watched him pleasure himself, present himself? It thrills Daniil more than he thought it would, the idea of being watched, judged, and (if only, at the end of it all) found worthy.

But he craves touch, craves hands. Craves hands like Stakh Rubin’s, in their moments of mutual work, steady on the blade of a scalpel or a microscope slide, moving with a practiced grace and precision he never catches Daniil noticing. Daniil sinks a finger into himself and swears.

Or what about the ripper, Burakh, the so-called Haruspex? It’s a desperate thought, but it’s a desperate night. Broad hands, circling his waist, while Daniil sits in his lap and kisses the man to distraction. He’d like to see Burakh undone by him, begging for him. The slide of his finger is so easy now he has to slip a second in beside it, a third, moving in and out with the rise and fall of his chest, panting and quick. His palm sweeps over his clit and he presses hard with it, thoughts wild.

Andrey, lifting Daniil like it’s nothing, holding him up against the wall and fucking into him with savage thrusts. Bad Grief with his clever mouth between Daniil’s legs, humming something Daniil can feel reverberating through the core of him. Rubin grasping the edge of an autopsy table while Daniil sinks down in front of him, and kisses down his chest. Burakh, holding him by the wrists and grinding together their hips, artlessly craving contact. Eva tying him with her scarves, spread by the bedposts, and speaking promises into the shell of his ear. The Inquisitor, pushing him to his knees. The Commander, laying back so Daniil can straddle his waist …

He feels a restless, prickling heat, a wave of warmth, and he comes with a cry he didn’t know he could make. After that, his thoughts are hazy and bright as sunlight in the steppe, something he’s never seen, but feels with the twyre in his lungs.

At last, Daniil sleeps.

IM NOT OP BUT ANON I OWE YOU MY LIFE

IM NOT OP BUT THIS WAS SO GOOD.... THE DANIIL/ANDREY, DANIIL/GRIEF, AND DANIIL/RUBIN PARTS MADE ME FUCKING LOSE IT

I /am/ OP and THANK YOU FOR MY RIGHTS

there are a few characters with gloves as part of their outfit and personally i would like if they kept them *on* during sex. gloves in mouth? partner whining for more while being fingerfucked but they're not even getting skin contact? skys the limit

(tags: trans grief and trans daniil. fingering. you know how it is.)

The Nest was blessedly quiet today. Grief’s men had left for a place he preferred not to think about and he hadn’t received visitors all day. The only sounds he could hear were the creaking of the rusty warehouse and the faint ticking of clockwork.

It came as something of a shock, then, to hear the warehouse’s door be thrown open with careless force, the metal creaking and clanking as it went. In strode his unexpected visitor, snakeskin coat splattered with rusted blood and eyes drawn heavy by terrible bags.

Dankovsky looked… bad was not quite the right word. He looked haggard. Strung-out. At the end of his rope. Tired. His hair was sticking in all sorts of fun directions - he had clearly been running his hands through it all day. Grief was momentarily overcome with the want to run his own hands through it, have it be his fingers that ruffled the city-boy’s perfect feathers. It was not the first time such a thought had crossed his mind.

“Ah, doc!” Grief greeted, rising from the pile of crates he had taken as his kingpin’s throne. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

Dankovsky cleared his throat. “I wasn’t expecting to be here.”

Grief raised a brow at that. “Curious. You’ve never struck me as a man to tarry on his decisions.” He drummed his fingers against his thigh, a slight smirk creeping across his mouth. “What’s it to be then; business or pleasure?”

Dankovsky moved closer, dropping his bag by the door. “Strictly business, Grief.”

Grief laughed. “No chance I could sway that answer?” He paused at his own words, impressed by his own boldness.

Dankovsky frowned at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He waved a dismissive hand. “Nevermind, I don’t care. I don’t have time. I need a rifle, standard Military grade, and thirty ammo rounds.”

“Broke the first one, did you? So finicky these old things are, all rusted and busted. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Dankovsky swallowed. “I did,” he said, clearly lying. His hands clenched nervously at his side. Grief’s eyes flicked to them, distracted by the creaking of leather.

“Sate my curiosity for a moment, would you? What do you plan to do with such a weapon? I thought it was your job to heal, not harm. Something about your Oath?”

Dankovsky huffs. “Why do you care?” He snaps. He pauses, eyes widening just slightly, as though he knows he has given away his position. “It’s for… self-defence.”

“Then what’s so urgent, doc? That little pistol of yours no longer cutting it?” Grief said. His eyes raked over Dankovsky’s form, over his tense shoulders and jittery foot. “Forget the rifle. You could afford to take a moment, you know?”

“What?” Dankovsky snapped. “What are you talking about?”

Grief gestured to him. “Look at you. You’re strung as tight as a bowstring, ready to snap. I can hear your bones creaking from here.”

Dankovsky huffed. “So?”

Grief’s lips curled into a smile. He stepped towards Dankovsky, crowding him. Dankovsky stepped back, his back hitting a pile of crates. “I happen to be an expert in unwinding tangled things,” he said.

Dankovsky seemed to get the message and his cheeks turned a pretty rosey pink - like blood in water. Grief could feel Dankovsky’s breath against his skin, hot and coming out in quick puffs. Their height difference was not gargantuan by any means, but Grief felt like a giant. He felt in-control. He liked that.

“I was not aware of this talent of yours,” Dankovsky replied haughtily, though his breath momentarily caught. His body betrayed him.

“It’s a skill I allow only a few lucky individuals to see.” Grief leaned forward, whispering into Dankovsky’s ear. He shifted, slipping a leg between Dankovsky’s. He could imagine the flush deepening on his skin now. “Is luck on your side, doc?”

Dankovsky took a shuddering breath. “I hope so,” he gasped. Dankovsky was surrendering to his whims. He wanted this. Grief smiled. Good. That was what he wanted to hear.

Grief felt rather cheeky. “I didn’t quite hear that. It must be all this pollen in the air, making me go deaf.” The press of his thigh against Dankovsky’s crouch grew more insistent. “Say that again?”

Dankovsky glared at him. The effect was lessened by the lustful glaze in his eyes. “Please,” he replied, monosyllabic.

Grief pressed his lips to the shell of Dankovsky’s ear, nibbling at the sensitive flesh. He drew a gasp from the doctor, a shiver running through his body.

He bit gently at Dankovsky’s ear. He then snaked a hand down his chest, stopping at the brim of his ridiculous trousers, unbuttoning them. The waistband parts for him like a butter under a hot knife. Grief slips a hand inside. He could feel how wet he was already.

“Been thinking about this, have you?” Grief teased. “Do you dream, Dankovsky, in that great Loft of yours? Do you imagine this; me working you apart like a locksmith would a door?”

He circles a finger around the doctor’s clit, grinning as his legs parted for him.

“If I say yes will you keep going?” Dankovsky replies.

Grief laughs. He stills his hand. “Hm. Maybe I should stop, instead?”

Dankovsky grows serious. “If you stop I’ll find a new use for your hand, preferably severed and buried in a lab’s icebox somewhere.”

That took the wind out of Grief. That wasn’t the answer he was expecting. If he were to be honest it sent a rush of heat all the way down to his feet. He was nothing if not adaptable.

He slipped a finger inside of Dankovsky, revelling in the soft gasp it drew from him. Grief worried at his neck, nipping and biting as he curled his finger against the hot flesh of Dankovsky’s body. He keeps a steady pace, slipping his fingers in and out, rhythmic and practiced. He can feel Dankovsky’s rabbit heart beat beneath his lips, where his veins and arteries were closest to his skin.

Dankovsky keens suddenly, shuddering forward in pleasure. Grief caught his weight, leaning back against him. Continues his pace, drawing in and out of him, adding two fingers and then three. Dankovsky only grows louder.

“Oh, how the kitten purrs…” Grief cooes.

A weak growl is drawn from Dankovsky’s throat. The fingers that were now digging into his shoulders grew tight. “Don’t call me that.”

Grief’s heart is thundering in his chest. “Oh, and he has claws, too! Your words are weak here, doc, but there are other ways of shutting me up.”

Dankovsky moved his hands from Grief’s shoulders to Grief’s jaw, drawing him into a messy kiss, their noses clashing clumsily. Grief stilled for a moment, having not expected his taunt to work. Dankovsky worried at his lip, biting and nipping along soft flesh. Grief felt a rush of pleasure run up his spine. His gut was aflame with heat. It took all of his concentration to not still his hand.

Grief could feel Dankovsky clenching against his fingers and he could feel him moaning into his mouth. The vibrations traveled from one chest to the other, drawing groans from both of them.

Dankovsky drew back, burying his nose in Grief’s shoulder. He swore, bucking his hips against Grief’s hand. “Fuck…” he whined. “I…” he gasped.

“Use your words. Or have I taken them all from you? What a terrible thief I’ve been,” Grief hums. He quickens his pace.

Dankovsky doesn’t answer, only moans. Then suddenly he’s gasping, his breath wordless as he comes. His whole body shakes with pleasure, a yelp caught in his throat.

Grief waits until the last of Dankovsky’s shuddering stops before he withdraws his fingers. He wipes them clean on a nearby rag. He would dispose of that later.

“Better?” Grief asked. He ignores the bubbling in his own gut. He would deal with that later.

Dankovsky clears his throat. “Yes. Thank you,” he says with the haunty pride Grief is used to. It is the cadence of a man who didn’t just fuck himself silly on a sinners hand. Grief laughed at that. How quickly things return to normal.

“So,” Dankovksy says. “Rifle?”

This was great! I loved the dreamlike quality of this with how it slipped from one person to another with the shifts happening because of Daniil latching onto one idea and using it as a springboard to the next. It felt very fantasy-y. I also liked how his mind went to Eva first, considering where he was, and the line "...vulnerable in this borrowed bed," to exemplify that. I also really liked how he imagined different sorts of dynamics with everyone he thought about.

Ah yes, Daniil "bad at lying about rifles" Dankovsky. I like Grief surprising himself with his own boldness at making a move on Daniil. My favourite aspect of this fill would have to be the push and pull of the dynamic. One moment Grief's enjoying feeling in control, the next Daniil's making a threat, the next they're kissing and then Daniil's pride's coming back full-force. That was just handled very interestingly in the writing. Great work!

HI I'M THE OP OF THIS PROMPT AND THIS IS LITERALLY EXACTLY WHAT I WAS HOPING FOR WHEN I POSTED THE PROMPT, THANK YOU SO FUCKIN MUCH FOR GIVING ME MY RIGHTS AND WRITINV THIS I'M IN LOVE WITH IT!!

SECONDED....

WOW seconded.

thank you and thank you for this prompt!!!

all good pairs, thank you, i'm glad you liked my take on them. :D

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Pathologic Kink Meme!

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Artemy/Andrey

FILL: Rubin/Saburov, 2/2

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Re: Fill: Andrey Stamatin/Bad Grief

Rubin/Grief

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Re: Fill: Andrey Stamatin/Bad Grief

Pathlogic 1 Artemy/Daniil/Pathologic 2 Artemy

FILL!

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author's choice, gloves kink

Re: Bad Grief/Bachelor Fill

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Re: Pathlogic 1 Artemy/Daniil/Pathologic 2 Artemy

Re: daniil/artemy, erotic prostate massage

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