Rot of Stars by Plaguedboar (Pathologic, Burakhovsky)

╰┈• “You know… I tried to save my Thanatica several times. Coming here was a last resort. A last chance. But it wasn’t always like that. Believe it or not, when I established the institution, I got a letter from the Powers that Be. Want to know what it said?”

Artemy hummed. Focused on not putting too much weight on the other nor on his knee, and still marinating in shame of his outburst. He didn’t feel like talking, so he let Daniil fill the silence.

“It said…” Daniil scoffed at the memory. “‘Congratulations, Bachelor Daniil Dankovsky. With your fine establishment, we know you will do great and terrible things. For this reason, we offer only one to you; safety or freedom. Please inform us of your decision as soon as possible.’ I reread that so many times.”

They stumbled on the last step up before they were officially on the second floor. Despite the darkness, Artemy can see the rosy cheeks and bittersweet smile of his companion.

“You chose freedom, didn’t you?” Artemy leaned against the railing. The crackling in his voice echoed through the hallway. Daniil nodded.

“Without a second thought. What good would Thanatica be if all projects had to be approved by someone beyond? But of course, I knew that freedom didn’t mean freedom from consequence. They let us play for a few years, and then when progress was made… there you go.”

They walked to Artemy’s room, too empty and bare. A bed and a dresser. He didn’t need anything more. He didn’t have time to add anything more. Daniil sat on the bed.

Artemy joined him.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m bringing this up, aren’t you?”

I’ll tell you. I will- the way I’d tell a close, intimate friend.

Artemy was too tired to talk.

“Well… It’s because I look at you, and I see someone that never got to choose. You had both in your youth… but it was stripped, slowly. So painlessly and carefully, or worse, under the mask of obligation that you never realized you lost them both beyond the short term that was promised.” Artemy blinked. The days of youth are gone, despite they were both still young. His first curled tightly at the memory of his father telling him that the university would bear great fruits in his future, that he should go. And Artemy did, because that’s what he thought was best. But… was there ever a choice? Then his father requested him to come home. Was that a choice?

“And now we are surrounded by people that never had to make that choice and have no idea how precious those two things really are.” Daniil continued, and he gave a small lean against Artemy, too subtle to call it a shove. Something comforting and to emphasize his words. “Although my wax wings melted, the sun was warm and bright, my friend.”

Artemy could hear the sad smile the other had. But Artemy frowned.

“I’m content with my path in life. I chose this.” Artemy spoke too softly. Spoke in a way that was more akin to ensuring he was saying the right words to the witnesses in the walls rather than to Daniil. But Artemy meant it.

He was sure of it.

“As did I. We chose the responsibility and now we bear the consequences. I ask, do you feel safe or free even if you feel content? Is this what you really wished for? To be the town’s only surgeon, menkhu, caretaker to a useless leech, and a father of two?”

Artemy stayed silent.

“You’re trapped, the same as I. And sometimes that hurts. And sometimes it’s stressful, to manage it all and pretend that it doesn’t hurt. What I lost… I lost because I had it, and I chose to have it. You lost because… it was the only path forward. For you and others. There wasn’t another choice, and for that, you have my sympathy.”

Artemy stayed silent. But his eyes started to drift from the wooden floors to Daniil, without intention nor will. And he saw Daniil looking back at him. As if he did so for the entire conversation. Artemy’s elbows slowly met his knees, trying to get closer to the ground. He wanted to feel small.

“What I’m saying is that… whatever you did, whatever you said… Words can be refined but the heart is a disgusting and demanding organ; claiming it otherwise is dooming it to break.” Daniil leaned just enough to get a better angle of Artemy’s visage. “I won’t claim to understand, because our positions are opposite. But what I can say is that I know that look of desperation and well… I know that look. Where it seems like you can’t escape. Your anger and sorrow and hatred and joy… you shouldn’t be ashamed of them. You’re only one man, after all. Your friends will understand, and maybe in time, they will forgive you. And after that… maybe you can tolerate your own sins, paved from duty and good intentions.”

With that… Artemy crumbled.

Daniil knew. The suffocation. Loss. He shared his own with Artemy because he knew Artemy understood- even if the sins were different, they held equal weight. Artemy buried himself, lower and lower, until he burrowed his face unto the crook of his arm. His knees were finally pressured into silence by the weight.

The floorboards were dusty because he hadn't had the time to sweep or clean anything yet.

Artemy’s chest felt tight.

“I had to kill. I… I felt relief when someone attacked me first.” Artemy’s voiced quivered and echoed from between his legs. It sounded like he felt. “Grateful . Because their death… because then they weren’t as innocent. But… I knew some of them- I knew their faces, once or twice from back then. Talking with their sweethearts in the markets… visiting my father for their checkups. They… They weren’t like that before. They weren’t cruel.”

Artemy never admitted that out loud. He didn’t even think of it before the words leaked out like pus on a wound. He let out a strained whimper as he tried to choke back any involuntary tears.

Then… foreign thin arms trailed behind his back until they reached his side. A small tug and Artemy let himself be guided to Daniil’s torso, where the other arm encased him. The breath he was straining against was let go into a shuddering whine.

It was an awkward angle to be hugged. His arms were trapped and he had to pull them down and tuck against his chest to fit into the other’s frame.

But… it was intentional. It felt intentional. Daniil wanted to give comfort, not be a recipient; not even as a mutual act. Artemy couldn’t hug back, even without the curse, and so he nestled himself into the frame- it felt natural how well their bodies pressed into one another.

“Neither were you,” Daniil whispered, resting his head on top of Artemy’s.

your fool in this game for two by abillionstars (Deadpool & Wolverine, Poolverine)

╰┈• "You signed up for this,” said Wade, his hand still busily working away between Logan’s thighs, and his eyes flick up to meet Logan’s gaze.

Logan kisses him, then. “I did,” he says, and rolls Wade back into the tangled sheets. He overshoots; they roll off the side of the bed. Wade falls easy, laughing. And Logan, in a move he’s growing to like more and more every day, follows.

✒⸻