seph, 27, they/them, swiss, requests open for whump gifs/videos/moodboards, sfw whump blog for prompts, tropes, gifs, writing, art and all that (i follow, ask and like from sephs-ghost)
this is just a general blog masterpost that I’ll keep pinned :)
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The floor shifted and swayed in a decidedly un-floor-like fashion, and Caleb braced a hand against the wall for support.
"My God, you're finally feeling it now? What a tolerance you've got. Much experience with this, have you?”
The chemist rose from their desk and moved between Caleb and the door.
Caleb scowled, leaning against the wall. He stumbled forward, each step another wave crashing atop him, another assault on the senses. His vision fell out of focus, and he gasped as the floor was suddenly 100 feet down.
With a new jolt of vertigo, his legs faltered and he collapsed, falling 100 terrifying feet to the floor.
His heart beat wildly, and a pair of fingers against his neck confirmed his racing pulse. A satisfied hum sounded above him.
"Your services are much appreciated, Caleb,” the chemist said, though the words fell on deaf ears. "I do enjoy a good experiment.”
The chemist whistled a tune as they dragged his twitching body out the door.
hi! here's a fic i did not really intend to write, it just kind of came to me. i'm currently rewatching karppi but i'm not even on this season, yet i simply had to do this fic lol. it's a little fill for the time in between when nurmi's apartment blows up in 3x07 and when he and karppi wake up on the couch in 3x08. hope you like!
The thick black smoke rises, lit by the city lights until it blends into the blackness of the sky. He just stares, as if mesmerised.
It’s his apartment. He knows it is, has seen it from this angle so many times before. Still, some part of him protests that it is not. That it cannot be.
It cannot be true that his apartment has just exploded in front of him.
And yet it is.
“We need to call this in,” Sofia says. She squeezes his shoulder, and he jumps a little.
“Sorry.”
He doesn’t…this doesn’t feel real. Smoke is billowing from a hole in his apartment. His apartment.
What if he’d been inside?
Sofia is on the phone beside him, but he can’t really focus on what she’s saying. He catches his own address, the words smoke and deliberate.
He feels lightheaded. Out of his own body.
His apartment.
It is impossible that this was an accident. Considering everything.
The most likely, the most obvious, conclusion, is that this explosion was meant to frighten him, hurt him, or kill him.
He knows which of these possibilities is the most likely.
He feels sick.
Sofia must have finished on the phone, because suddenly her hands are grabbing his, and she is trying to pull him inside. He finds that his feet don’t really want to move. He feels stuck, staring out across the water at the smoke still rising.
“Come on,” Sofia says, and from the way she sounds she’s probably said this to him at least once already.
He forces his feet to move. They don’t feel entirely connected to the rest of him. He sort of stumbles across the threshold, and then Sofia shuts the balcony door with a rather loud sound and he comes back to himself, a bit.
“We need…”
“Firefighters are already coming. We should go to the station. We’ll need to each make a statement.”
She’s right. The sooner they do this, the better. While the event is still fresh in their minds.
While he can still see the image of the smoke pouring out of his apartment like it’s burned into his eyes.
They get into Sofia’s car. He finds he doesn’t really recall getting down the stairs. His hands are shaking when he goes to buckle his seatbelt, and Sofia reaches across silently and does it for him.
“Thanks.”
The drive is quick and silent. The shock is wearing off, he thinks. Or his police training is taking over. By the time they reach the station, he feels…not exactly fine, but the explosion is sitting in its own compartment in his mind. It’s separated out.
He’s fine. He needs to be fine. At least for this.
In the station, he tries to make an espresso, but his hands are still shaking. He hides them in his pockets before anyone can see, and focuses on breathing instead.
His apartment. Black smoke against the black sky.
In the end, they speak to several people, and he manages to make his voice steady and his speech coherent. He speaks to JP and Peltola, a guy he’s never seen before, an arson investigator. Tells them everything he remembers.
Things are moving as quickly as can be expected. The firefighters have arrived and the blaze is nearly extinguished. A team will be sent to his apartment as soon as it is safe. This is all that is known.
JP relays this information to him and Sofia. “They said it’ll be an hour or two,” he says, then disappears.
Sakari suddenly feels heavy. His statement has been given, he’s done what he can for the initial investigation, and there is nothing else to do. Nothing to distract him, to occupy his thoughts.
Just that smoke.
That fear.
What if he’d been inside?
His hands are still shaking.
“I’m going to sit down,” Sofia says. “There’s no point in going home if it’ll only be one or two hours.”
She’s right. And it’s not like he has a home to go to now, anyway.
They collapse onto the couch. He doesn’t think he’ll fall asleep–it’s not always easy for him, and all he can see every time he blinks is his ruined apartment. But Sofia reaches out, squeezes his hand, and he finds himself drifting off.
The smoke still rises behind his eyelids, but for a little while, he sleeps.
thanks so much for reading! it's been a while but i am still so insane about these two. this was a little rushed but i hope it was alright anyway!!
