Pathologic Prompt Meme!

[maximumhusky]

Hello, welcome to the Pathologic Prompt Meme!

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 Prompt Meme, and it's SFW! Please post any NSFW prompts or fills into the NSFW Pathologic Kink Meme. 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 you're worried about anything being a little too gore-heavy (e.g. certain medical procedures can be), or etc., please post it in the NSFW Pathologic Kink Meme. This decision is 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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Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Either Artemy or Daniil have found themselves as a child again. I was imagining this as a drama, but comedy would be great too!

(Obligatory message but if you're going to have the characters in a pre-established Artemy/Daniil relationship, please don't do anything sexualized. That would be very uncool, no bueno, and I personally would die. If you're going to kill me, kill me with feels, not grossness. Thanks!)

Brought Low [1/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Hey what up? I'm OP and I decided to take a stab at filling my own prompt. Hope you enjoy!

---

“Wait. Tell me something. Are you Bachelor Daniil Dankovsky?”

“I am. Who are you? I don’t think we’ve ever met.” Daniil’s eyes looked down to face the man sitting against the outside of the theatre. The Theatre had not been in use for a while, so Dankovsky hadn’t expected there to be anyone around in the area.

Though his head was lowered from exhaustion, Mark Immortell still held a sharpness to his eyes and smile. “We did once before. But it’s to be expected if you don’t remember.”

“Excuse me, I do apologize. What was your name aga--”

“That’s not the important part.” Daniil’s eyes flinched when Mark cut him off. “I want to ask... do you still believe that you’ll conquer death?” Mark grinned. “Does that heart of yours still yearn for that impossible dream?”

“You’ve told me nothing about yourself and yet you expect me to drop and tell you everything in my heart?” Daniil replied.

“I wouldn’t normally ask. I’d just see it as clear as day. But now days I feel quite tired.”

Dankovsky scrutinized the other man, before softening his expression. “...You don’t look so well. Look, perhaps you’re in need of a medical consult. Are you in pain? If so then maybe we could do something about it.”

“Oh goodness gracious, you’re actually serious, aren’t you?” Marked chuckled, but it was followed by him wincing from a sudden pain in his gut, or what could be called one for a not-quite-a-person sort like him. The moment was silent between the two of them, and it seemed that Daniil’s concern was well founded. Mark was already feeling bruised as is, and this didn’t help.

“Sir,” Daniil begun. No one had ever called Mark sir before. Somehow this felt more like a slap to his ego than being called a more straight forward insult would be. “I’m a doctor. I only want to help. It doesn’t feel right to leave you on the ground in your condition.”

“Hm. A doctor you say? Then perhaps you should’ve noticed a more crucial detail first.” Mark reached behind his back, and had to hope he had enough power to conjure the prop he intended.

Daniil’s acquired reflexes led him to step back as Mark pulled out something from behind. It turned out to be a mere bottle of twyrine.

“Don’t mind me, doctor.” Mark smiled, and jostled the liquid inside. It was genuine. Never mind the fact that it hadn’t existed a single second before. “I was just enjoying the day. Care for a sip?”

“No,” Daniil’s eyes were those of one who had seen a falsehood committed in front of him. He glanced about at the spot where Mark had pulled the bottle from, trying to remember if it had been there before, but didn’t voice his suspicion. “That won’t be necessary. If that’s what this has all been about, then I’ll leave you to it.”

Before Daniil could turn around and do so, he was distracted by Mark’s increasingly large grin. “Your heart, Dankovsky. It’s kind and full of luminous ideas, but that’s also what makes it puerile. There might be some worth to those ideas though if you could separate the dross from the gold. Tell you what. Let’s give you that chance, and see what will win inside of you: an irresponsible and naive search for immortality, or perhaps a more grounded approach?”

“I won’t let myself take seriously the confused words of an alcoholic anymore. Enjoy your drink, kind sir. I’ll be off.” Dankovsky’s coat swirled as he turned away from the disheveled man, ignoring his gaze.

Mark watched Daniil become smaller with distance. “Do I have enough within me to direct another story, I wonder? I have the material in front of me. It practically writes itself. But can I put it into motion?” Mark asked himself.

Still staring at Daniil with the expectant eyes of a hawk, Mark raised his hand in the air and waited for just the right moment. He then snapped his fingers.

In the distance the dark-haired doctor stumbled on his feet, and caught himself before he could fall. His knees trembled for a brief time, but soon he found stability again and was able to straighten himself out. Mark saw Daniil rub at his face as he began to stumble away, but was still quite pleased at the result.

“Maybe I do have it in me after all. Here’s to the new story then.” Mark tilted the bottle of twyrine to drink from it, but then immediately began to cough. “Ugh. This stuff is stronger than I imagined it.” Mark wiped his mouth.

-

The old Burakh household. With the threat of the plague no longer present, and the desire to give the children he had adopted a better home to grow and live a peaceful life in than his old, blood-stained hideout, Artemy brought Sticky and Murky to live in the old home.

From within this home Artemy heard a banging against the door. When he went to open it he found Daniil pale and ill-looking on the other side.

“Daniil? What’s wrong?” Artemy asked.

“I don’t know. One moment I was fine, the next I’m dizzy, losing my balance, and my stomach is a mess. I barely managed to make it here as is. Artemy, I apologize greatly for the inconvenience, but can I trouble you for a bed to rest on?”

“It’s no trouble at all. You’re always welcome here. Please come in.” The menkhu stepped aside for Daniil to enter. Even inside the house, Daniil rubbed at his face, trying to get blood flow to the surface and restore some of his energy. Artemy offered his hand on the other man’s back for support as they walked.

Burakh’s adopted children, Sticky and Murky had been lounging in the kitchen as Daniil arrived unexpectedly. His sickly appearance startled even them. Murky looked up from playing with her doll, and Sticky stopped eating his sandwich mid-bite.

“Daniil.” Murky’s small voice called out. “Are you sick?”

“Just tired, that’s all.” Despite the weakness in his body, Daniil gave her a warm smile. “I just need to take a nap. Then I’ll be fine.”

“Do you... want to see the new flowers that I have collected?” She asked him.

“Ah, Murky, perhaps later. Daniil is feeling under the weather right now.” Artemy said.

“Sadly, the fellow’s right.” Daniil said wistfully. “But after a good rest I’ll feel right as rain, and would love to see the flowers then. That’s a promise.” As if he wasn’t pale and exhausted at all, he gave her a smile and a soft pat on the head. Murky as usual didn’t smile easily, but the expression on her lips wasn’t a frown either. It looked like there was something else she wanted to say, but Artemy couldn’t afford to indulge her at the moment.

“Come, erdem. We should probably get you to that bed now.” Artemy motioned for Daniil to follow him.

“Ah, of course.” Daniil said.

Artemy guided Daniil up the stairs to the second floor where there was a spare bed for the sudden guest to stay. Sticky and Murky, who were left behind had the space to themselves now.

Sticky was the first to speak. “Come on, Murky. Dankovsky’s not going to check out the flowers right now. He looked pretty sick. I hope he doesn’t throw up inside the house.”

“The flowers were supposed to help him feel better.” Murky frowned as she looked at the doll she was holding.

Sticky stood quiet, and considered what to say. He hadn’t meant to step on the quiet girl’s good intentions. She was often quite considerate in ways that Sticky still didn’t expect, which kept throwing him off guard.

“Hey...” Sticky started to say. “Maybe you could show me the flowers for now. As a little practice for when Dankovsky feels better? I like flowers too.”

Those were the magic words. Murky grinned and quickly dragged him by the hand to where the flowers were at.

_


“Thank you. I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps with rest this I’ll find this malady to just have been a temporary matter. I hate imposing on others, but you were the nearest doctor around.” Daniil apologized as he took off his shoes and his leather coat. His actions were both sluggish, and forced. He wanted to be in bed as soon as possible.

“Hopefully it’s because you know I’m your friend too.” Artemy said, but was paying attention more to the other man’s demeanor. As Daniil loosened the cravat around his neck, Artemy noticed his skin to be damp from sweat, and his eyes strained.

“Well of course, that too. I...” Daniil’s voice was cut off, and his mouth left open by the sudden way Artemy placed his hand on the other’s forehead. Artemy’s hand was pleasantly warm against his cold skin, but it was still unexpected.

“Cold sweats. It’s not a fever at least.” Artemy muttered.

“I don’t know what it is, Artemy, but I need the rest.” Daniil’s composure was dropping. He rubbed his face with both hands. “I’m sorry, I can’t really think that much anymore. I’ll speculate about it later.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll check on you in two hours. If anything happens though, use this.” Artemy pulled out a bronze-colored bell from his pocket and placed it on the table beside the bed.

“A bell?” Dankovsky looked at it. It was one of the bull bells that had steppe runes in its interior. In a town based heavily in its export of meat, spare bells were often found everywhere. Artemy had likely received it from one of Sticky’s or Murky’s exploits outside, though as the town’s menkhu there was always the chance that it was his own.

“Ring it in case anything happens. Or even for something as small as a cup of water. I’ll be there.” Artemy said in a somber way that threw Daniil off.

“Artemy, I’m not dying. At least I don’t think so.” Daniil blinked at the thought. “But still, thank you.”

The menkhu considered the exhaustion in Daniil’s eyes, and whether it would be fine to leave him unattended or not. Without any clues yet to judge the situation beyond mere, if not sudden, fatigue, he didn’t want to push himself any longer against the desires of his guest to get well-needed rest. “Of course. Rest well.” He decided to say before closing the door behind him.

_

The children mobbed Artemy with questions as soon as he went to check in on them. What was Daniil (the children were familiar enough with Daniil to not call him by Dankovsky any longer) doing here? Was he sick? Did he throw up? The children were concerned for him in their own way, Artemy knew, and he replied that Daniil needed things to be quite for now so he could sleep. He was going to be alright, Artemy assured them.

Sticky and Murky were satisfied by this, and vowed to continue the day as usual but with more quiet. That turned out to be quite useful for Artemy, as he endeavored to keep his ears on alert for the sound of the bell. He went about his own daily business, washing dishes and preparing a hearty stew, enough for the whole house including the newfound guest, all the while paying attention in the back of his mind for a noise that would cause him to drop whatever he was doing.

It was at the other end of the house entirely where Artemy heard the plaintive bell ring at last. The bell’s peals were weak but deliberate. It was a relief to hear the noise, because it meant that Daniil was awake and conscious at least. However, Artemy also knew that Daniil was the sort of person who wouldn’t call out for frivolous reasons.

His boots sounded on the wooden steps as he walked up the stairs. The bell continued to ring. Once he reached the top, the bell stopped.

Daniil was surely waiting for him, Artemy thought. But what was the reason? He had stopped ringing once Artemy was near, and yet said nothing. The air was quiet, and full of questions. Perhaps Daniil was just the type to avoid raising his voice if unnecessary.

Artemy knocked on the door to the guest room. “Daniil, you rang for me? Shall I come in?”

There was no answer for a while, before the bell rung out once more before being choked, and stifled.

Artemy opened the door.

The sight of the bed was most definitely not as it was before he left. The blanket had been pulled away from the sides of the bed and bunched together into a pile in the center. The piled shape was indistinct, so Artemy had no clue what exactly was within. Daniil being inside might have been the natural presumption, but the whole situation felt uneasy and made Artemy tense.

By the size of the pile, if Daniil were inside then he’d have to be tightly curled up to fit. Was he in dire pain?

“Daniil? Is that you under the blankets?” Artemy asked blindly, hoping and yet not hoping.

There was something most definitely alive under the blankets. Its breath hitched, and the blanket pile on top of it writhed in response. Then, a gap appeared under the blanket and out came the bull bell along with the arm holding it. A small, thin arm.

Another arm soon followed and stuck itself out from the blanket. Its hand hesitated before pulling the blanket away at last to reveal what was underneath the entire time. As the shape underneath rose and emerged, Artemy’s breath choked in his throat.

Black hair. Clothes that struggled to fit, and instead engulfed. Small hands that clutched at the bull bell. And dark, frightened eyes. Very, very frightened eyes.

“...Yes.” The child trembled at the sound of his own voice. “I’m… right here.”

Re: Brought Low [1/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Ha! Cool opening. Your dialogue is on point, especially for Daniil, and I loved the way you populated the world with side-characters. It makes everything feel more fleshed out and real I'll definitely be keeping an eye on this fill.

Re: Brought Low [1/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you so much!!! I've been practicing my dialogue skills, and I'm grateful that Daniil came off well! He was very fun to write. :) I'm grateful for your comment, and look forward to writing more of this story!