#papers please fanfic

[jadzio-writing-prowess]

It’s gonna get worse, before it gets better (Papers Please fanfic)

Rated: T

Sergiu Volda & Calensk, Sergiu Volda & Calensk & Inspector (in bg)

A terrorist attack happens at the Grestin border checkpoint, Sergiu gets hurt and Calensk takes it upon himself to help his friend.

Warnings: Discriptions of blood and injury

Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic (kinda), No Beta - We die like Sergiu when a terrorist attack, Developing Friendship

A03 link if you want to read it there

The cold barrel of the rifle is being held steadily, in Calensk's big hands. It's another slow winter day, at the border checkpoint. Line of immigration is moving lazily. The hollow voice of the Inspector, methodically breaks up the silence. A few detains here and there, nobody is putting up much of a fight today. The air is cold and clear. The sunlight is harsh, but not warm. It's starting to get late, ⅔ into his shift, soon they will be able to all go home. Calensk closes his eyes, lets them rest and tries to welcome, in his own way, the cold embrace of Arstotzkan winter.

After a few minutes, there is a stir in the line, uneasy steps and voices fill the air. Then quick and frantic taps of boots, against the concrete. Some gasps from the crowd. The terrorist speeds past Calensk, creating a small breeze and scales the border wall with ease.

Dammit, his pay. He hopes the detainment bonus will be enough to cover for it. Uneasy steps turn into panicked running. Calensk  opens his eyes. The line of immigrants is evacuating. His fellow guard is already retreating - not their side of the wall anymore. But he chooses to stay a little longer. He listens to the sounds of the commotion on the other side. Nothing, but frantic running and shots from the other guards. He waits for the Inspector to do his usual. “For Kolechia!” resounded against the concrete walls. A gunshot echoes in turn, from the Inspector's booth and a pained moan follows.

Explosion rumbles through the air on the ground. Pained moans multiply and Calensk can hear quick shuffling, mixed with swears from the booth, followed by a shrap door swing and sounds of running. Calensk starts to make his way toward it, an uneasy feeling creeping in. He steps through the still open checkpoint and starts running.

The tranq dart was accurate and made its way deep, in between the ribs of the terrorist. Effectively neutralizing the target in seconds, while not killing or doing any major damage. The guards weren't so lucky. The late shot didn't stop the grenade that was already flying through the air. Red stains decorate the post. A medium sized hole has been blown, before the guards and large rock chunks were sprinkled all around. 

All of the guards managed to back off far enough from the grenade, to still be clinging to life. The first one had pieces of debris lodged all over his leg. The middle one had been pushed back by the explosion, now he is lying on the ground, treated to grenade parts and sharp stones all over his body. And the last one - Sergiu, kneeling on the ground, clutching his right arm in pain. The Inspector is already tending to him.

Calensk runs up to them. “Calensk! Friend, don't worry, I didn't get hit hard. Pyotr is already helping me out.” Sergiu looks up at Calensk with a weak smile. His painfully trembling arm and panic in the Inspector's movement, contradict his words. Pyotr is muttering apologies for his slow reaction and gently wraps Sergiu's arm in his shawl. It's blood soaked by now. He turns to Calensk. “It's not good. He will have to be escorted to the hospital, with the rest of the guards.”

Sergiu objects at the idea. “What! No, it's fine, it's barely anything. I've lived through worse during the war.” Sergiu turns white, his voice weaker than before. “Sergiu, this is serious. Rocks and grenade parts are deep enough in your arm, to be piercing through your veins. If you were to remove them on your own, you might bleed out. And if you leave it like that, your whole arm can die. I also wouldn't be surprised if it got infected and after that, it'll be just a matter of time before it reaches your bloodstream.” Inspector tries his best to sound stern and commanding, but the mix of guilt and fear in his voice are unmistakable. Calensk can tell that he is exaggerating a little, but the amount of blood coming from Sergiu's arm, his pained expression and the injuries of the other guards, are enough of a sign that he needs immediate medical help.

But all this, does little to change Sergiu's mind. “I won't… I can't go. If I do… they will get me off this checkpoint. I will be assigned a new job, or in the best case, I'll be moved to a less busy checkpoint.” Sergiu's words are broken up by painful gasps for air. “I will be fine… I can take care of myself. I can take care of this wound, on my own. Nothing, some bandages, water and sleep won't fix.” He tries to stand up, but his legs quickly start wobbling and he almost falls to the ground. Inspector and Calensk quickly catch him, before he reaches the ground. Sergiu lets out a painful groan, but does his best to stand upright, with their help. He clings to Calensk's side.

“You can't be left alone, like this, to deal with it on your own. You can't address your wound properly, in this state. It won't heal right.” Calensk shifts a bit, to get a better grip on Sergiu. It causes his friend to slightly hiss in pain. “You need to get your wound cleaned by a doctor. You need to go to the hospital, Sergiu.” Sergiu is visibly in pain, but that doesn't stop his protests. “It's impossible, Calensk.” He's weak, but seems to get ready to put up a fight, if need be. If this argument goes for longer, he will inevitably tire himself and pass out. Calensk sighs, knowing his stubborn friend enough to tell that trying to argue more, will be futile. "Someone should go with you, to help. Do you have any bandages at your place?” Sergiu shifts a little and avoids eye contact with Calensk. “No… I hoped to get some, on my way home...”

The Inspector chimes in. “He can't go to his apartment. The Ministry of Information agent, will visit him in his apartment, for an interview about the attack today, if he doesn't go to the hospital with the others.” He looks over at the other guards.

“Won't that make him suspicious?” Calensk raises an eyebrow. At the same time, he almost never gets interviewed for terrorist attacks. Most of them happen on the other side of the wall. So he's not accustomed to after attack procedures.

“Not necessarily. The agents are used to those situations and if there is no one at home to open the door, they schedule the audit for the next day at work. Only after you don't show up to it either, do they start an investigation. The rules are stricter than this, but no agent wants to spend the rest of their day searching for someone, who - is, most likely, just at some bar getting too wasted to be answering any questions, when found.” The commotion on the other side starts to shift, they seem to be starting to get on with the transport of the guards. The supervisors start to take notice of the three.

“I see. Sergiu, you will go with me.” Calensk looks at Sergiu. “My apartment is close by and empty. My wife and kids went to visit my mother-in-law. I should have something at my place, to patch you up.” He said in a commanding tone. Sergiu was getting worse and worse, there was no point in drawing this out. Calensk trusted that his friend had a good reason to be so desperate. To stay at this checkpoint, wounded and sick.

The Inspector shoves 5 credits into Calensk's hand. “Should help cover the rent today. I might come around later, in the evening. My wife is sick, so I won't stay long, but I might be able to drop off something useful. I will try to get your supervisors off your back for now. And hey-” The Inspector lowers his voice. “take good care of him, ok?” Calensk takes the money, he will need it with today's cut pay. He could use an extra set of hands to help, but he nods along understandably. Sergiu stays silent, looking like he is going to pass out at any moment.

They split, Calensk and Sergiu go towards Calensk's apartment and the Inspector walks to the rest of the guards. The two friends slowly make their way to the apartment. It's close by, mere 2 streets from the checkpoint. But with Sergiu's dwindling health, it took a while. Calensk also lived on the 6th floor, so getting through the stairs was another hurdle on their way. Sergiu needed to catch a breath every two floors. Slowly, but surely they made their way up and got into Calensk's apartment.

It's small. No hall. You almost immediately walk into a room that's a fusion, between a living room and a kitchen. It's humble, just a sofa, table big enough for a family to eat together, and a bookshelf. On the kitchen side, a counter fused with a sink, some cabinets and a fridge. Deeper in, there are 3 doors leading presumably to a bathroom, bedroom and the kids bedroom.

Calensk helps Sergiu take off his rifle and the uniform, then does the same. He pulls two chairs from the table and puts them opposite to each other, next to the sink. He sits Sergiu down on one of them and takes a seat himself.

He gently, but decisively unwinds the flimsy, applied layer of shawl that substitutes for bandages. Finally getting to have a look at his friend's wound.

“Jesus Christ…” Calensk mumbles. He has definitely seen worse, in the years he served under the Arstotzkan government. But that doesn't compare. If the wound gets any worse, the consequences will be gruesome. Pieces of debris and the grenade are sticking out of Sergiu's mottled skin, inserted in deep. Blood was slowly dripping out of some tears, mixing with the dirt, creating smudges of brownish paint all over the arm. Some of it managed to dry into dark reddish-brown clumps of unnatural shapes. The whole gash was covered in dirt and pieces of concrete, after the fall. There wasn't any water on hand to clean it at the border. But now there was.

Calensk puts the bloodied arm under the tap and turns it on. Lukewarm water starts to swiftly make its way down the uneven path, taking chunks of blood and dirt with it. Sergiu hisses lightly at the sensation, but keeps his arm steadily under the flow. Water eventually brings some relief, but there is still a lot of work to be done. Sharp stone fragments still firmly in their place and some dirt, still stubbornly clings to his skin.

Calensk looks down at his hands, big and bulky, but most importantly incredibly dirty. Chunks of dirt and grime on the palms, some of Sergiu's blood and some cigarette residue under all of it. He feels that he is the last person that should carry out such a procedure…

But there is Sergiu, looking up at him. With trust and hope in his eyes. Calensk can see the fear and pain hidden deep within, but Sergiu puts his hopes in him and he was not going to leave him like that. He knows that the younger man, if left untreated, will probably end up trying to treat himself and end up infecting and opening his wounds even more.

So, he gingerly pushes his friend's arm to the side, to wash his hands. He does it with as much care and attention as he can, while also trying to not take too much time. He knows it’s not perfect, probably not even good. That it would take way more, to clean the cigarette traces off of his fingers. He wishes he had some clean gloves, but no luck. He puts Sergiu's arm back under the stream, goes to the nearest cabinet and grabs a bottle of ethyl alcohol. He pours it onto a kitchen cloth and wipes his hands clean. Then he goes to get a clean cloth and a pair of tweezers, runs them under the water and alcohol, lays them beside him and turns to his friend.

Calensk starts to work. He gently puts his hands on Sergiu's arm and slowly and methodically, scrubs any dirt the water didn't take care of yet. Even the slightest touch of Calensk fingers sends hot waves of pain through Sergiu's arm, but he does his best to keep it to himself. Once the skin is cleared, Calensk turns off the tap and lays Sergiu's arm on the counter. He wipes the wound with alcohol. To Sergiu, it feels like he is getting his arm, gradually roasted by a fire. To add to that, the sharp stones in his arm, no matter how delicate Calensk tries to be, dig deeper  and tear his skin. Calensk puts down the cloth and gets out the tweezers, but then immediately notices that half of the stone chunks are too big for them and he will have to use his hands again. He puts them aside and patiently, with as much care as he can, pulls out bits and pieces of debris and the grenade.

Sergiu bites his right fist to muffle the sounds of pain, he can't keep inside anymore. His vision starts going white, tears show themselves at the ends of his eyes and nausea starts to wreak his guts. His war deteriorated body and mind, are not what they used to be. He desperately tries to keep his clam and starts breathing heavily, desperately trying to stabilize himself.

Calensk stops and looks at Sergiu. He wants to say something, but he stops himself and immediately softens. “...Listen to me.” He puts his hand on the shoulder of his friend's healthy arm. “Focus on my voice. In one, in one two, in two three.” Calensk looks at him, patiently waiting. Sergiu's unfocused eyes and mind fail to catch his friend’s movement, but he manages to ground himself in his unusually soft voice. “...In one, in one two, in two three…” Voice weak and trembling like he was about to break into pieces. Slowly his vision comes back and the pain gives out a little. Calensk decided to pour him a cold glass of water, Sergiu slowly drank half of it. It helped with the nausea.

“Thank you my friend, I… my endurance is not the same as before.” Sergiu's eyes drift to the side, unable to face the judgmental look Calensk is probably giving him right now. Instead he gets a short response and an empathetic look. “I don't mind. War and Arstotzkan lifestyle took a toll on all of us. ..The thanks we get… .. Stupid terrorist. Just tell me when you need a break again.” Calensk's voice is back to normal. He's looking at his friend searching for any more signs of distress. “...I will keep that in mind. Thank you again, not everyone has as much patience when dealing with wounds and...” Sergiu gains a little courage to look at Calensk. His face is the same stone cold expression, he always carries and yet it feels a little softer now, a little more understanding. It gives Sergiu the courage and ease he needs. He releases a shaky breath.

Calensk resumes cleaning the wound. Picking out sharp, uneven rocks and grenade parts. Slow and tedious work, of digging out every speck of dirt from under the debris. Calensk, careful as before, does his best to not drag out the process. Sergiu lets himself catch a break, every few minutes. Calensk is always there, patiently waiting. Sergiu tries his best to break out the uncomfortable - in his mind - silence,  in those moments. But he gets more and more tired as time goes on and finds it harder and harder to speak. Calensk doesn't mind and always just silently listens or answers the best he can.

Time passes, the sun has hidden under the horizon a some time ago, but neither of the two men noticed. Finally, after a few hours of tireless work, it's done and Calensk is only left with going over Sergiu's wound, with alcohol, to make sure it won't get infected. Sergiu is too tired at this point to react to the burning sensation. His eyelids heavy, he still tries his best to stay conscious and help Calensk with what he can. 

Calensk after clearing the wound, stands up and looks around, searching for something to wrap the arm in. Unable to find a bandage and realizing it's far too late for any medicine shop to be open, he settles on tearing up a new shawl he bought recently for clean cloth.

“What… what, no don't use it on me…” Sergiu's weak protest, didn't even manage to register in Calensk mind, before he teared up the shawl and applied it to his wound. “Nonsense. It's cheap cloth that can't even retain heat properly.” He swiftly wraps Sergiu's arm and puts a firm knot at the end of it. “Besides, I can't let all this work to now go to waste.” He says in a no nonsense tone and shoots Sergiu a look. Sergiu relaxes a little. “I'm in debt to you friend.” Sergiu smiles at Calensk and looks around for a clock. “It's late, I should be going home. I'll find a way to make this up to you. Thank you for everything again…” He tries to get up, but his legs almost immediately give out. Thankfully Calensk managed to catch him in time, before he reached the floor. “You are all fired up. You are not going to go through Arstotzkan winter night, in this state. Especially if you hope to stand guard at the checkpoint tomorrow.”

Sergiu, overcome with dizziness, didn't protest much and gave in to the support of his friend. Calensk carefully held his friend upright and started to guide him to bed. Slow, ginger steps. Tired, but strong arms supporting the wounded. Sergiu broke out into fever shivers every few minutes, but Calensk managed, to safely, get him to lay down under a blanket. He wondered if he had any medicine left, that he could use to lower the fever. He searches through the cabinets and finds some leftover pills, from the time his wife fell ill. He also remembers an old blanket he had stashed in the closet and took it with him too.

Sergiu was already sweating bullets under the current blanket, but he appreciated the second layer. Calensk wondered if he had any clothes for tomorrow morning that would fit Sergiu. For now, he helps him to take the medication and brings him a glass of water. Sergiu downs it almost instantly.

He goes to refill it and comes back to Sergiu. He notices fresh tear stains, decorating his cheeks. “Are you in pain, my friend? Did I knot the bandage too tightly or is the sickness getting worse?” He isn't sure if Sergiu is even capable of answering him in this state, but he managed to mutter a few words. “No… no.. it's just..” He takes a few painful, desperate breaths. “I.. I think… I'm dying, Calensk …” Sergiu tries to muffle a wet sob that tumbles through him.

Calensk takes a close look at his friend - fever shivers still not giving out, sweat running down his face, the way he curls in pain and the way Segiu's eyes dart around the room. Calensk takes out a clean tissue cloth and wipes Sergiu's face. “Bullshit, you are not dying. You are strong enough to get through this fine.”

These words hit Sergiu deep, they act like a firm punch to his guts and everything unravels. “...I don't want to die.. not now.. not now.. when we are so close.. ..I can’t.. I need to see you again.. ..I can't now… ..I don't.. I can't…” Sergiu now fully breaks into muffled, ugly sobbing, mixed with incoherent mumbling.

Calensk, taken aback a little, tries to soften his approach. “Don't say that. Fever messes up your senses. You are going to be fine, I promise. Now deep breaths. Remember?” He tries to help Sergiu stabilize himself.  Slowly, uneven and deep breathing is the only sound breaking up the silence, with an exception for occasional sobs and shivers from Sergiu. Little by little, Sergiu calms himself.

Calensk stands up to find some clothes, he hopes will fit his smaller friend, for him to change into. He searches through the closet and the dresser. Not much luck, everything is at least two sizes too large. He wonders whether to use some of the clothes his wife left behind. But ends up settling for his for now, concluding that Sergiu's sleeping clothes can be a bit too big and decides to possibly use the other ones in the morning.

He takes the clothes, uncovers Sergiu and helps him to dress himself. Not the most grateful job. He would gladly leave up to Sergiu, but he knows that he can't when he is in this state. He goes from down to up. It goes semi smoothly with Calensk's help and Sergiu's collaboration. Sergiu is too weak to do much at this point, so Calensk gently removes Sergiu's two shirts himself and-

“Blyat! What happened?! When did this happen?” Calensk uncovered Sergiu's torso, to reveal a bandaged up stomach, blood staining his left side, mottled skin spreading from it. “Please, don't shout….” Sergiu takes a long pause to compose himself. “.I.. During the war.. near the end, I was shot.. they sent me away back into Arstotzka … to a hospital to get treated. I was unable to get help … There were many more like me ..and the civilians..  …and I wanted to quickly come back to Kolechia to finish some business… so I used the money they gave me for the hospital stay… to buy some supplies and I cleaned and patched myself up. It wasn’t much.” Sergiu with great effort strings together sentences. Calensk gives him a sign to stop talking and straining himself.

He carefully starts pulling back bandages. Thankfully they weren't that old. But what was under them... Calensk can't shout, no matter how much he wants to and just mutters: “Suka blyat. Here is the dog buried... When was the last time you cleaned this?” Sergiu squirms at the sensation, hot waves of pain overtaking him again. “It's fine, it's healing ok, it's just flaring up because of the arm and the stress-”

“It's not healing ok. I can still see parts of the bullet inside it. It's infected.” Calensk interrupts Sergiu, keeping his voice low, but stern. He remembers Inspector's words ‘I also wouldn't be surprised, if you got it infected and after that, it's just a matter of time before it reaches your bloodstream.’ They keep ringing through his mind. Where is he either way, he said he was going to be here, at some point.

The infected wound before him, Inspector and Sergiu's words mix in Calensk's mind. He is at the verge of passing out. He doesn't know if he has the strength to do this, nor what he would even use to clean it. He used up most of his supplies, for the arm. He lets out a big sigh. “Stay here. Rest and gather up energy. I'll be in the kitchen trying to figure out how to tackle this.” He takes one of his shirts out of the drawer and uses it to cover the wound for now. “Calensk…-” Sergiu tries to say something, but a stern look from Calensk is enough to stop him. Sergiu gets hit with a new wave of pain and nausea, so he tries to focus on that for now.

Calensk leaves his bedroom and goes to the kitchen, to brew himself a coffee. He will need it. Ramped thoughts course through his mind. As he is finishing boiling the water, he hears a knocking on the door. ‘About time…’ Calensk opens the door to a tired Inspector, holding a material bag in one of his hands. His eyes are bloodshot and the expression tired. “Apologies for the hour, she got worse...” His eyes darted to the side in shame. “But I managed to get some supplies. Though I'm not sure if they will be of any use now, you probably already took care of the wound. Well I hope it can at least compensate-” Calensk steps aside, in a clear sign for the Inspector to come in. “No, no… Come in. He… also just got worse and I was wondering what to do. My supplies had run dry.”

The Inspector came in and they went to the kitchen. Calensk poured more water into the now, lukewarm kettle and started to heat it up again. The Inspector sat down by the table, while Calensk tended to the coffee. “So what happened? Was the wound that serious?” Pyotr started to pull out his supplies on the table. “No, there wasn't much trouble with his arm. He will probably come out of it with some scarring. If he cleans it regularly, it shouldn’t get infected.” Kettle starts to boil, Calensk takes it off the fire, before it starts to wheeze. “It's just that… he got shot during the war. Never got treated for it and well you can imagine the rest yourself.”

Calensk turns toward the Inspector. On the table lined up neatly, were a roll of gauze and bandage, a pair of gloves, a safety pin, a medi pad and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Did… Did you rob a United Federation hospital, when you were gone?” Calensk raises an eyebrow at the lineup. He struggled to get a few cough pills out of the medicine shop, Arstotzkan stores being notoriously understocked. “Heh, no. I went to the hospital with the guards and the agents, was close to my apartment anyway. They keep the local hospital pretty well supplied, with all the attacks going on the border. It's not much, but I wouldn't be able to get half of it, if not for the fact that I work at the border and that some of the staff seems to know Sergiu and was willing to lend a hand.” 

Calensk finished brewing the coffee, handed one cup to the Inspector and sat beside him. “I'm impressed. This will surely come in handy. But I'm not sure if he will be able to come to work tomorrow, even if the wound gets cleaned.” Calensk takes a sip of the coffee, it's not much, being mostly water, but it's exactly what he needs right now. “Well you at least got time until 2pm. The Investigator will be out of town, with our Supervisor until then.” The Inspector sipped the coffee, his 4th cup today. He isn't sure if it will do anything at this point.

“Could use some extra hours. Thank you for the news and the supplies. …About the debt from the det-” Calensk starts, but gets interrupted by the Inspector. “Don't even mention it. You needed the money, I get it. Now I need time to be with my wife, rather than helping here… and you understand that. That being said” He stands up, having already finished the cup. “I'm afraid I need to go. Can I take a look at him before I go?”

“Sure. He's weak and resting now, so try to not wake him up, if he's sleeping.” Inspector nods and as quietly as possible, goes to see Sergiu.

Calensk finishes up the coffee, while he meditates over how he will tackle this whole thing. Inspector doesn't stay by Sergiu for long and quietly makes his exit. Calensk gives himself a few minutes, after the door closes to gather himself. He takes all the supplies from the table, grabs a pair of tweezers, a bottle of ethyl alcohol with whatever is still left in it, a new cloth for wiping, a bowl and a pair of scissors.

He comes into his bedroom. Sergiu is laying down, but clearly not sleeping. His eyes have a distant fog to them, not too unfamiliar for Sergiu to have. Calensk wonders what thoughts cloud his vision now. Is it the war, the terrorist attack, the image of his wounds, or is it simply clouded by pain and nausea. Calensk goes to grab another shirt, in case the bleeding gets worse. He puts down the supplies on the bed and floor, next to the bed. They lack the precise organization of the Inspector, but it will suffice. He kneels next to the wound.

Calensk looks at Sergiu, sweat and tear stains cover his face, his expression remains unchanged. He takes the cloth on the stand and wipes Sergiu's face. His face changes expression slightly, Calensk isn't sure what it exactly means, he just hopes it's a little of a relief.

“I'm sorry, I was too harsh to you before. I was tired …and worried.” Calensk takes a slight pause before saying the last part. His voice wobbles a little. “Don't worry, I've heard worse. At least you scream and swear, because you are worried about me. It's a nice change of pace.” Sergiu smiles weakly, but his eyes remain unchanged, still distant. “Don't say that. You deserve better.” Calensk eyes land on the floor, unable to look at Sergiu's face anymore. “Do I, though? I got my arm blown up, then refused to get professional help, becoming your burden. You already helped me so much, but I've taken up even more than you could give, or I could ever repay. You have the right to be upset.”

Calensk looks straight into Sergiu's eyes. “No, I do not. It’s not your fault that the terrorist attack happened,” Sergiu tries to interrupt Calensk, but he doesn't let him. “It's not your fault you are wounded. It's ok to get help from your friends. You didn't want to get to the hospital, for an unknown reason, I get it. But what is not ok and what I don't get, is why did you have to hide this from us too.” Calensk puts emphasis on certain words to hammer the point home. “You don't want to take more than you can give back, but… if we lost you, how do you imagine you could make up for that?”

Sergiu averts his eyes from Calensk's gaze. His expression changes, giving to a mix of sadness and distant grief. Calensk puts his hand gently on his friend's shoulder. “You don't need to hide anymore, you are among friends. You don't need to handle everything on your own. You are always ready to give a helpful hand to us, why not extend this kindness to yourself?” Sergiu's glances back at Calensk. His usually sharp features are softened, his face wearing the same sadness and grief to it as Sergiu. Except his grief feels closer and more tangible right now, than his.”You are right. Though I will find a way to repay you friend, it's only fair.” His voice gets quieter. “Trust me there is no need. So… ready for a round two? And don't you worry about the state of my medicine cabinet. When Pyotr came by, he made up for his absence by robbing a hospital.” A small smile graces both men's faces. Sergiu seems to be more at ease now. 

Before Calensk takes care of the wound. He unravels the shirt protecting the wound. It didn't get any better during all this time, maybe except for the bleeding slowing down. Sergiu winces at the sensation.

Calensk looks into Sergiu eyes. “It's gonna get a lot worse. It’s gonna get worse, before it gets better. Are you ready?” Sergiu takes in a shaky, deep breath. “I am ready.” Calensk gives him a small reassuring smile and the tissue cloth to wipe his face, if he needs to and to bite down on, instead of his hand. 

Calensk puts on the gloves and starts to dig out the dirt and grime out of the wound. He puts it in the bowl. Slowly and methodically, already familiarized himself with the rhythm. Segiu does his best to keep his pained moans and whimpers to a minimum. It feels like he is on fire again, but somehow it's even worse. Waves of nausea hit harder than before. His vision goes blank several times.

Calensk grabs the pair of tweezers every now and again to pull out a rock or a bullet fragment. He does his best to be gentle, but most of em had grown into the skin and had to be pushed and pulled out the flesh. Sergiu needs a moment, every time this happens. Calensk doesn't mind the countless trips to refill Sergiu glass, it's a neat break from the look and smell of the blood that starts to cling to him more and more.

It's been like that for hours. Digging dirt out, break, back to digging, break. It weighs on both of their minds and bodies. When it feels like it's almost over, Calensk takes off his gloves and Sergiu feels some relief. Before he hears a soft “I'm sorry.” from Calensk. He pours alcohol down into his wound, to disinfect the gash. Sergiu instinctively thrashes and Calensk gently and carefully holds him down, with his second hand. He breathes heavily, eyes hazy, alcohol digs deep into his flesh, scorching everything in its wake. Sergiu passes out from pain.

An unknown amount of time passes. When Sergiu gets dragged back to consciousness, his wound is bandaged up and the room cleaned from the medical supplies. Calensk is sitting on the floor by the bed, looking over him. When Sergiu opens his eyes, a relief washes over him. His cold hand brushes his face and stays on his forehead. “You are a strong horse, you will live through this. You already went through the worst, now you can only go up from there.” Sergiu enjoys the cold sensation of Calensk's hand on his face. “Your fever rises again, you need to take this.” He hands Sergiu some pills and water. He struggles to take them, but eventually manages to swallow them down. His eyelids are getting heavy and soon enough he lets himself drift off to sleep, tired and restless.

Calensk waits a few minutes, looking over his friend, checking if he is truly sleeping. When he confirms that Sergiu is deep in sleep, he takes the tissue again and wipes new sweat off of Sergiu's face. He puts his hand on his forehead and checks the temperature again. The medication should be slowly kicking in. He stands up, to go to sleep himself.

In the small living room, he opens his convertible sofa and thanks his grandfather for passing it onto him. With Sergiu occupying the only spare blanket, he makes due with his winter coat and an old sleeping bag, he hoped he would never have to use again. He changes his clothes into something more light, tosses the dirty and bloody ones in the laundry basket and settles on the sofa. Imagines of lines of immigrants, the terrorist's neutralized body, Sergiu's wounds, his distraught face, sounds of explosions, gunshots and soft sobbing fill Calensk mind as he drifts off. He knows full well that he is not the only one, with such things occupying his mind and that it will be a tough night, before Sergiu gets any better.

Sergiu's fever rises and falls throughout the night. Cold shivers break up his tired dreams. Sometimes he wakes up, nightmares, memories and reality meshing together into an unholy abomination that Calensk has to pull him out of. In the flurry of visions, seeing Calensk and his soft expression, his hand on his forehead, is like a lighthouse guiding him back to reality. Fever fights within him, slowly giving in to the medication, but never fully stops. Calensk is at least able to quickly fall back into calm, dreamless, but restless sleep every time. To be just as quickly, pulled from it by Sergiu. He doesn't mind it much. Be it his experience, with his sick kids, wife, or in service to Arstotzka. It's not his first night like this and it's not going to be his last.

Night quickly turns into a cold morning. Calensk wakes up, sun up above the horizon and gets himself ready. He finds some fresh spare clothes for Sergiu, for when he wakes up. Makes a light breakfast for both of them. Gets ready the last few remaining medicine pills and carries everything to his still sleeping friend. Sergiu sleeps deep,  drenched in sweat. Calensk checks Sergiu's temperature with the back of his hand. Still warm, but he doesn't shiver so much. He puts breakfast and the medicine on a small bedside stand, next to an empty glass. He goes to refill it and thinks what a shame it will be to wake Sergiu up like that. He could really use a day off and stay in bed, but from his yesterday's reaction, there was no convincing him to stay. Calensk understands.

What is left now is to hope - that the weather is better and that there are no terrorist attacks happening in the near future. But with the sharpshooting guardian angel, he has in the Inspector, Calensk's patient helping hand and his undying hope to live another day on that post, he just might make it out alive, long enough to see his lover.

[noblesknightsandswords]

Tired: Derek just sucks at being a werewolf/alpha. At this rate Stiles could be a better wolf. Wired: Derek is a Born Werewolf and as such has an entirely different culture than Stiles or Scott knows. He's a great wolf by his cultures standards.

!!FANFIC RECOMMENDATION BELOW!!

The Hale family were all Like That™ because they could scent each other and had pack bonds to rely on, rather than words. ((They all speak with eyebrows and body language, as well as scent and pack bond. The only one acceptable in "civilized aspects" is like, Laura, because she has so many human friends beyond pack, so she toes the line of both cultures.))

So Derek is entirely normal by his standards, but Teen Wolf is from the perspective of a human and a bitten wolf that used to be human, therefore we are getting an outside perspective on an unknown culture and putting our cultural expectations on Derek and how he should behave as a wolf.

LITERALLY AN AMAZING FANFIC. IT TEACHES AN ENTIRE NEW PERSPECTIVE AND HAS A SUPER FUN INTERACTION THROUGH FOOTNOTES.

I'm an absolute freaking nerd but I cannot tell you how intensely I admire this damn fanfic.

Please read it.

[galaxiesovertrees]

more fanart for @crystalsamethyst‘s fanfic again, just as promised !

[icebluecyanide]

“It’s just like the other targets, Alex," Yassen said quietly, his hand lingering on Alex's shoulder. "Shoot them, and then you can go back to bed.”

Paper Target (Alex & Yassen, T, 2.7k)

Post-3x04. Alex still refuses to shoot at the human-shaped targets. Yassen decides to help him overcome his reservations.

A mood board for my 3x04/3x05 AU fic where I take canon and make it slightly worse for Alex by refusing to give him an out.

[hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard]

Help Me, Super Mario Bros Tumblr!!!

I’m looking for two(2)very specific super mario bros posts, and I can’t find them! Please reblog this with either the link to the post or the username of who made it!

(I ask for reblogs because then I can use this blog to respond instead of the main account it automatically makes me use with comments and etc)

1. A short Paper Mario comic of Paper Mario silently DEATH GLARING one of hos party members for making fun of Luigi in a wedding dress or something

2. A Bowuigi headcannon about Bowser kidnapping a disguised Luigi instead of Princess Peach the FIRST TIME HE EVER ATTEMPTED A KIDNAPPING and fell in love with him and keeps trying to recapture that spark they had that first meeting

Ya’ll would be helping me out so much thank you!!!

[arenjix]

Baby Birds and Bat Caves

By IzzyMRDB

Complete

Summary:

Gotham was built on a cave system. Batman has referenced a Bat Cave before. Tim is currently in the cave system. He is in the cave system that he entered from Drake Manor. Drake Manor is right next door to where Batman- The Bruce Wayne- lives. Holy Cavern, Batman! Tim had just accidentally wandered into the Bat Cave’s cave system. OR Tim, having found a weird hole after a storm, decides to go exploring ignoring the fact that This Is Gotham and They Probably Have Cursed Stuff Down There. Luckily, it was just a cave system that spans the entire Gotham underground. Unluckily, Tim is a very curious child.

(Stats/Tags are under the cut)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics)

Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Edward Nygma

Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Original Non-Human Character(s), Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Edward Nygma

Language: English

Additional Tags: Caves, Fluff, Weird Gotham City, Tim Drake-centric, BAMF Tim Drake, Kid Tim Drake, the Bat Cave, Kids are so curious, Smart Tim Drake, Tim please stop running around in gothams cave systems, Stalker Tim Drake, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, no beta we die like robin, Tiny Tim Drake, Tim Drake has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, Tim looking at the cave system under the city: you know this might as well happen, Bruce please stop him, Child Neglect, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Inspired by Welcome to Night Vale, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Magic shennanigans, BAMF Stephanie Brown, BAMF Cassandra Cain, Edward Nygma Tries, Cryptid Tim Drake, Tim Drake is Crow, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Kid Fic, Stephanie Brown is Starling, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Cassandra Cain is Black Bird

Series: Part 1 of Gotham Caves and Reality Aberrations

Published: 2022-03-20

Completed: 2022-06-30

Words: 30,113

Chapters: 20/20

[mrcformoso]

The working summary of the upcoming Paper Flower Extra which has become much, MUCH larger than I originally anticipated.

And I'm juggling the HuaLian Idol!AU, and WangXian A Matter of Time Part 6.

My brain.

Needs to stop.

Braining.

[moregraceful]

I name all of my snake plants after Baltimore Orioles players because...I don't know why I do that.....anyway Adley (she/her pronouns according to my parents) and Adam Jones are making the trip with me but Chris Davis is TOO BIG FOR THE CAR and I'm so sad now. That was my emotional support snake plant through my FMLA leave. He has seen the worst of me (mental illness, forgot to water him for a month) and survived. Now he's like four feet tall and I have to leave him behind because he is so big that he takes up more than a third of my luggage space in the car 🥲 I took such good care of him that now he has to live independent of me. Goodbye Chris Davis I will think of you fondly as I encourage Adley to grow big and strong.

[jamiesfootball]

One thing that I was not able to add into this beast of a fic was any Higgins & Jamie bonding and I am honestly so sad about it. Jamie literally can not have enough good replacement dads in his life

[7origamisheep]

feeding my poor hungry papercarm soul🤲

[louisapennyfeather2021]

I can't believe that in this day and age this needs to be said, but here we are:

STOP👏SELLING👏FANFICTION👏👏👏👏

Copyright Law, my friends. In the front of every book you read and in every end credit of a show or movie, there are Copyright warnings. LISTEN TO THEM👏👏👏👏

Selling fanfic is quite literally grounds for the original creator to sue you. Not only will YOU be in severe debt because you will successfully be sued, but that creates the perfect opportunity for these Anne Rice control freaks to get fanfiction banned entirely.

So unless you want to say "Bye bye!" to your favorite fics, I suggest you STOP being greedy and STOP selling something that was never meant to have monetary value! Fanfiction is art, but it's art that cannot have a price on it and that is a sacrifice that we as authors/readers willingly make. Binding fanfiction into a book is a laborious, but because YOU do not own any of the characters/world building in the writing, selling it is still illegal.

Fanfiction is something that not only builds online communities, but it also helps get some people through the hardest times in their lives. Sometimes a good fanfic is the only thing keeping someone motivated. Please don't be the reason that goes away.

I know that a large number of the people binding and selling fanfiction do not see the reasoning behind these warnings because they believe their work making the physical book is what they are selling, but I plead with anyone who has considered buying from these people to heavily reconsider🙏🙏🙏

[kalolasfantasyworld]

hiya lola! how about 8, 15, and 24 for the ask game?

Hi Tam! 💕💕💕

I admit I really wanted to answer these ones, so they will be long, but hopefully the best ^^ Thank you so much for your ask

Guys read these please!!! I wanted to share them so much! Let me know what you think 😊

8. Pacific Rim Au Nozelena

15. Klance go to the Arcade

23. Wildest Dreams (although a lot of the fic was inspired by multiple songs overall)

8 . that hurt my own feelings to write

So this one is not going to be from Paper Hearts, because spoilers… those bits just happen later and surprisingly I actually bawled my eyes the most at a Solid and Nebra scene, not Nozelena (I think I had these scenes planned too well to get super emotional, while with Solid and Nebra I just went with it and started crying...)

So the excerpt I'm going to show you is in my opinion one of the best pieces I’ve ever written and it’s from the Pacific Rim Au, that myself, @thoughtfullyrainynightmare, @lyranova, @loosesodamarbleare and @koneko-pi are working on 💕

Angels like you song fits it perfectly Spotify Youtube and gosh it made me cry 

“Are you alright mi amor?” Helena blinked cautiously. “You don’t seem overly excited about us having a winning chance against Kaiju.”

“It’s just… not as simple as it seems,” Nozel answered quietly and looked down, not daring to meet her eyes. However Helena did not let him. She touched his chin and then lifted it up. 

“It’s not,” she admitted. “However I believe that we can manage. Without hope our chances are pretty slim.”

“Then what do you hope for?” Nozel asked and he just adored how another warm blush spread across her cheeks. 

She lifted her finger and twirled a single strand of her hair around it. 

“I’d love to show you Europe,” Helena spoke up. “Mi familia’s sunny hacienda by the Mediterranean Sea… And then after we rest, we can go to Madrid,” she smiled and with each word her eyes brightened, she let go of her hair. “And after we’re done with sightseeing in España, we could visit other countries,” her tone picked up its pace, swiftly accentuating the words, and she pulled out of his hold, because her energy was not letting her stay in one place. “Italy!” Helena exclaimed. “Or Greece,” she pondered and Nozel softly looked down at her. “Both of them actually. Oh, then we should go to Malta! They have amazing scuba diving sites there. Do you know how to dive?”

“I..?” he raised his brows and blinked, confused by how quickly this escalated. 

I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s Helena after all, one full of life idea after the other.

“You don’t,” she nodded to herself. “Don’t worry we’ll find you a fitting diving course. I mean you’re going down into the depths of the Pacific in a metal can, what’s eighteen meters to you?” she flashed a smile.

Helena then paused and chuckled to herself.

“They have moray eels there,” she said and grinned. “Sooo I know, that you’re not scared of kaiju,” she playfully pointed at him and winked, “but what will you do if a moray eel shows up?”

“Obviously I won’t be bothered by it,” Nozel stated arrogantly, but he felt, that it was just for show. Because he may not have been scared of moray eels, but something else clouded his mind. 

“So cocky mi amor. You know how to get a girl excited,” she laughed and the sound of it would have normally made his heart flutter, but instead the strained muscle sunk deep into his chest.

“After moray eels…” Helena continued on happily chirping, but as much as he wanted to listen he could not. It pained him too much to do so.

You don’t know that I won’t be there with you. That you will have to dive with moray eels by yourself and I won’t be able to scare them off for you. You will once again see Madrid and then hopefully go to Rome, before hopping on a plane to Malta. And I will be dead, because if I don't die in a jaeger, my poisoning is getting worse and worse with each day. It’s getting harder to hide it from you, but how could I speak and shatter your hopes? Especially, when hope is what we need right now. We need people like you, not run down by this war, people ready to happily move forward and build a brighter future, not the likes of me, stained by their past and living in their memories. The drift never lets me forget how I’m the cause… This is my punishment, the poison, everything that follows. I don’t deserve to be happy.

He gazed at her prancing around the room and shooting him excited glances with each new idea she came up with. The red scrubs she wore, so beautifully complimented her tanned complexion. Brown hair fluttered and dark eyes shone brightly. It was as if stars decided on a new home in the depth of those round, deep orbs. She was chuckling to herself and the sound was sweet, heavenly. 

I don’t deserve happiness, but you do. I am staining your life with my shades of gray. They may seem silver, but only after reflecting your light. You will be better off without me. You may grieve, when I die… Actually I’m sure you will, because I’ve already been selfish enough to let you care for me… to let you picture a future, where we… There’s no “we” in the future.

Nozel squeezed his eyes shut and looked down. He felt the blue Silva pendant bounce off the tip of his nose, only to hit it back a second later. 

“Nozel?” he heard Helena ask and he looked at her, angry with himself for letting anything show. She became very good at reading him, so the tiniest slip up would let her know that something much darker was lurking in the shadows. “You do not wish to go to Paris? I know that the Eiffel Tower got destroyed during one of the first kaiju attacks, but the city had been mostly rebuilt,” she paused and looked up at him hopeful. “I suppose that I’d like to take you there,” Helena said quietly and smiled shyly, twirling a strand of her hair around her index finger. “I know it may be a bit cliche, but it’s a city of love…”

Love?! She cannot love me! Nozel pulled back. I may have these feelings, that I cannot properly name, but she…

Helena blinked upon noticing him get startled. The round eyes darkened into a shade close to black and he noticed the corners of her lips fall down. Her jaw tensed and she looked at the floor.

“So no Paris?” Helena asked quietly. 

“No,” Nozel answered flatly and a tight knot squeezed his chest, not letting his heart free. 

Okay this still hurts :( every time I read it and the misunderstanding at the end! 😭

15. from an old piece that i like

Klance go to the Arcade from my old fic (this is so hilarious)

Because I love my other Red x Blue OTP

I hope you like them @iamatriangle 💕 and for the rest of you just read the funny gay ship 😂

START

From the upper side of the screen some low quality ships appeared and started soaring to meet them halfway. Lance's lion jumped into the fight. It shoot two of the incoming hostiles. Keith just snored and also got his hand in the game. His playing involved more calculated manoeuvres than Lance's chaotic strategy, but to Kogane's surprise they were both equally successful. When the bigger ships came lions needed to avoid getting hit with their Ion cannon blasts. Their score rose with each second and Keith noticed a small crowd behind them watching the game. On the right side appeared a small ship, more agile than the others. It aimed at Lance. Kogane pressed the 'SPECIAL' button and his lion blasted a big cascade of digital fire at the opponent. 

"Thanks buddy." Lance said a little too loud from the adrenaline. 

The next wave contained some small fighters, but also three ship like the one Keith took out a moment ago. He needed to admit that he had never reached a level this high in this game and Lance had probably something to do with it. McClain had also used his special blast, so they were practically defenceless, but somehow they defeated the wave. During the next one Lance was the first to get blasted. The blue lion flickered and boy shook his head in disbelief. 

"Quiznak! I barely had them. It looks like it's up to you Mullet." A cocky grin once again appeared on his face and this made Keith loose focus. Just for a moment, but a moment was enough to get hit.

"Quiznak!"

"You're right quiznak it!" Said Lance and then he noticed people standing around them. A small applause came from them. McClain bowed and winked at Keith. "I actually don't hate you right now." 

"Gee, thanks Lance." 

'New high score!!!' A caption appeared and Keith watched it with disbelief. He turned to Lance, who was as cheerful as he could be. A wide smile spreading across his face made something change in Keith's own expression. He laughed as McClain put both of his hands on Kogane's arms and shook him. 

"Aw man we did this! Let's choose our duo name."

"A duo name?" 

"Yeah so it will appear next to DUO HIGH SCORE." 

A face palm was definitely the accurate reaction, but something stopped Keith from this. McClain not being rude or jealous towards him was something new, but quite pleasant. Why ruin it. 

"Got any ideas? Not connected to Hamilton."

"Aww buddy, why do you have to be so mean?"

"Sorry, not sorry." 

"Anyway it doesn't matter. I've already chosen our DUO NAME."

"Hm?"

"What about Klance?" 

Keith rose his brows and then tried to give Lance the most unappealing look he could. 

"You just added K to your name," he said reluctantly. 

"Yeah I know. I'm not stupid." 

"But this name is." 

"Why can't you appreciate my efforts?" A tease was so easy to notice in Lance's voice and the puppy eyes he made. 

"You're the worst."

"So is it Klance?"

"No..." He looked at those blue begging eyes once again. "Yeees?" 

"Yes!" McClain shouted and jumped in the air to show his satisfaction. Keith just chuckled. "Klance it is." He started pushing accurate buttons and the caption appeared brightly on the screen. 

"So now the rival mode?" Asked Keith actually not willing to change from cooperation to different mode. 

"Well if you want to we can now play against each other, but there are so many games in which we have high scores to beat." 

"Are you suggesting to play 'Arcade's fast and furious' in cooperation mode?"

"Yes?" 

"Alright."

"Yeah!" Lance shouted. "Watch out high scores team Klance is coming." 

"I still think that this name sucks." 

Lance gave him a deadpan stare.

"You suck." 

❤️💙

23. that was inspired by a work from another medium (music, visual art, dance, etc.)

Paper Heart so much! There is this one singer who inspired a lot of this fic and I have a whole playlist made for it, but most of the songs fit latter chapters better (that vocalist’s as well, let me tell you, when I was coming up with it one song played 53 times one day -> Spotify summary told me that)

So actually this Friday’s chapter is the one I told you I made a whole separate playlist for and I will post the first illustration with that playlist tomorrow. But for now I’m letting you know that the vibes will set by this song.

Bailando by Enrique Iglesias (Spanish version please) Spotify, YouTube

As for what we have so far ^^

The whole of chapter 21. The waves was inspired by Wildest Dreams by Taylors Swift (this version please)

I’ll chose parts from it and show you as I paraphrased the lyrics:

“Where are you taking me?” Helena asked poking at his feathery mantle, that was not fully covered by the cloak.

“It’s a surprise,” he said determined. “Let’s get out of here, fly out of the city. Away from everyone,” his voice was low and made Helena shudder. He was extremely attractive at the moment. His lilac eyes pierced right through her. Helena’s heart was racing from excitement.

“I wish it could always be like that,” Nozel spoke up for the first time in a while. His voice was quiet and he looked down.

Helena lifted his chin and made him meet her eyes.

“Say that you’ll remember this,” she smiled. “Us.”

“I will remember you,” he said in a serious tone and Helena blushed. “We shouldn’t spend the whole night here, but I think that we still have time for a little stroll,” he changed the topic. “Are you interested?”

Also I already added this song in chapter 15

“We don’t have to go public with it,” Helena said and Nozel looked up curious. “We can just meet each other in secret. No one has to know what we do.”

And let me reblog the art with fitting song lyrics, because the art is just perfect.

[aychama]

Expect.....something....

[yeah-w-r-i-t-e]

why can i write anything and everything on a piece of notebook paper but the second i try to write on the computer all inspiration has fled my brain

[serialgirlposter]

Things that make me insane: this line justice says about testament.

The idea of testament really thinking this would make their father happy in some twisted way....

Justice saying that the reason she (or he? In the og guilty gear i think he him is used which i also noticed on rewatch) didn't have complete control over testament was because of their love for their father....

[goodbye432]