#as he screams at the staff over reclining beds and working TVs

[ap-kinda-lit]

If Bulma had Bulla at a hospital …

Vegeta, to nurse: If you do not get my wife her stories and a new room as soon as possible, then I will come down on this hospital like the hammer of Thor. The thunder of my vengeance will ECHO THROUGH THESE CORRIDORS LIKE THE GUST OF A THOUSAND WINDS!

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 3

Here is the next chapter! Yay! 

Words:5500

Warnings: mild swearing, possessive Ivar (maybe?), mild sexual tension, hint of violence

Series Masterlist

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​

"Korítsi, one of these days I'll convince you to take a day off." (Greek: girl)

 Kari smiled as she re-tied her ponytail. Glancing over at her boss, she replied. "You would miss me too much. Besides you know I like working here."

 The woman shook her head. "You need a life outside of working- friends, a lover, anything besides this studio."

 "You just like listening to drama."

 "I'm happily married with my dream job; I need you ladies and your drama to keep me entertained. 

 Kari could only laugh along with her boss. Lydia Hansen was the best boss she could ever have asked for. The woman was in her mid-thirties, settled in life and always happy with a smile on her face and a kind word to share. She also had a mischievous side where she loved listening to the drama of her female workers, many coming to her for romantic advice or to vent about relationships. 

 Lydia leaned forward in her chair, putting an elbow on the desk beside her as she watched Kari. Even under the fluorescent lights, Kari thought the woman looked beautiful with her naturally tanned skin, short black hair and strong Mediterranean features. Kari could not help feeling like a used ragdoll next to her. 

"Why don't you come in at nine tomorrow morning, I can open the studio."

 Kari turned around after grabbing her purse from her locker. "Tonight is date night for you and Nels, which means several glasses of wine and you naked in your bed. If your stories are to be believed. So I'm guessing you don't want to be here at six-thirty tomorrow morning. Really, it's fine. I don't mind opening. I do it often enough."

 "And that's the problem. You've opened the majority of the time the past two weeks."

 "It's only until Sasha comes back from her family's funeral." Kari reminded her. 

 "Fine." Lydia huffed, then pointed a finger at her. "Then you're taking time off. I'll bar you from coming to work if you try to sneak in."

 "What if I want to come for classes?"

 "No. I'll kick you out of my studio. Do your yoga at home. By the skies above, you are a yoga instructor yourself. Just pretend to be teaching but alone….and at home!"

 The brunette smiled at her boss, knowing all of this was because Lydia actually cared for her employees. Both their physical and mental health. "No promises. Tell Nels 'hi' for me. See you tomorrow."

 "Go do something fun for once!" 

 Kari walked out of the office, chuckling. She waved to a coworker as she passed the front entrance before stepping outside into the late afternoon sun. Checking the time on her phone, she tossed it into her teal hobo bag and slung it over her shoulder, making her way towards the bus stop. In her black leggings, sneakers and purple racerback tank top with Whole Wellness Yoga Studio printed on the front, she could not help but feel slightly out of place as she walked the streets. Though no one gave her a second glance, she always felt like a fraud as she passed others by. The location of the yoga studio she worked at was certainly in the more affluent part of the city, and it showed by the manner of businesses in proximity and the looks and clothing of those who passed her by. 

 At one time she had worn expensive clothing, never paying attention to price tags, but those days were in the past. Although she adored working at the yoga studio, it barely made ends meet. Lydia mentioned once promoting her in the future to a manager, which came as a surprise since Kari had only been working there for just over a year. For now though, she was content with life. Happier than she had been in a long time. Even if her life seemed boring to others, only focusing on work and what the next book or TV series to enjoy was. It was her life, her choices. 

 For a brief second, she paused in her walk, thinking she had heard someone call her name. Which was highly unlikely since, truthfully, she hardly knew anyone in this city. With a mental shrug, she continued on, enjoying the feeling of the sunshine on her exposed skin. 

 "Kari Larsen! Don't you ignore me!" 

 The sudden scream made the brunette freeze in place, stunned and slightly terrified. Hesitantly, she turned, scanning around to see who had yelled for her attention. Luckily, it did not take long to notice the tall, blonde wearing the thigh-high boots and white, boho dress waving like a mad woman as she leaned over the short half-railing, separating the sidewalk and the restaurant's seating. 

 Smiling, Kari made her way back towards the woman, who beamed at her. "Gyda! When did you get back?"

 "Just yesterday. I know I say this every time but jetlag is a bitch." Gyda sighed dramatically, though her eyes twinkled in mirth. Leaning against the half-railing, she towered over Kari. On a good day, she stood just under six feet but with the short-heeled boots today, she peered down like a goddess from Valhalla surveying the lesser mortals. 

 "I don't know how you do it." Kari shook her head, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. 

 "Eh, you make it work." Gyda turned and peeked over her shoulder for a second before looking back at Kari. "What are you doing? Just get off work?"

 "Yeah. Heading home."

 "Do you want a ride?" She offered, tapping a finger along the railing. 

 Kari could feel the stares of the other patrons sitting outside and the wait staff, most likely wondering why someone like her was conversing with Gyda. Awkwardly, she toyed with her trusty diamond stud in her earlobe. "Not this time, but thank you. I'm sure you want to get back to your friends." 

 "It's just some of my many siblings and Torvi."

 "Oh, you'll have to tell her I said 'hi'."

 Gyda was a regular at the yoga studio when her schedule allowed. As a freelance writer, her schedule was chaotic at the best for time. Lately most of her works had been commissioned for traveling magazines, so her time coming to the studio was sporadic based on when she was in the country. It was through the studio that Gyda and Kari met. They would occasionally exchange pleasantries before or after Kari's class or in passing. Their friendship solidified only after Gyda found Kari standing at the bus stop in the cold rain months ago and offered to give her a ride home. They had met up a handful of times so Kari could hear all about the latest places Gyda visited and see the pictures she took, satisfying her own travel-wandering soul, sealing their friendship. 

 And through Gyda, Kari met Torvi. Though both women were at least ten years her senior, she enjoyed their presence and conversations. Torvi only came occasionally with Gyda as her guest to the yoga studio. At first, Kari was surprised when she learned they were sisters-in-law because of how close they seemed. Yet she found it refreshing, since most of her experience with family was tense to say the least. It was nice to know her own family's tendencies were not the norm. 

 "I will." The blonde exclaimed, her smile widening. "Oh! Do you want to meet Bjorn? I know you've heard Torvi and I talk about him enough that it's funny you haven't met him yet."

 "Oh, I'd hate to interrupt…."

 "Shut up. You're meeting him. Come on, I'll let you in through the main door, meet me over there." Then she spun on her heel and sashayed away, garnering a few lingering looks from nearby patrons. 

 If there was one thing Kari learned over the past several months of knowing Gyda, it was that the woman was head-strong and always got her way. So with an amused roll of her eyes, Kari headed around the restaurant to its main entrance just off the side of the busy sidewalk. The restaurant screamed money and prestige, something Kari learned both Gyda and Torvi had in spades. It was unnerving at first but their welcoming and kind presences help alleviate Kari's fears of being viewed as less. 

 Sure enough, Gyda stood waiting for her by the door. Chatting like a bird, she slipped her arm through Kari's and led her past the shocked waitstaff. The restaurant was even more impressive inside than how it appeared from the street. It was modern with a sharp black and white color scheme, tasteful and exquisite photos on the walls, and dark wood tables and chairs. Kari figured the price of a meal here was similar in cost to her monthly rent. 

 Gyda led her to a table that was outside in the sun, but partitioned from the street by the half-wall railing she had leaned over earlier to get Kari's attention. The brunette quickly counted five people already sitting there, apparently carrying on a lively conversation if the laughter meant anything. Before she could get a good look, Gyda directed her towards Torvi who reclined next to a man with an imposing physique and a long, blond, braided ponytail in a smart suit. 

 "Kari, this is my brother and Torvi's husband, Bjorn."

 "It's a pleasure to meet you." Kari smiled politely, taking his outstretched hand in a handshake. 

 "Likewise. So, you are the famous yoga instructor these two go on about?" He asked, with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. "I must confess, I find yoga a peculiar activity but with it helping Torvi's flexibility while we…."

 Torvi smacked his shoulder, making the men around the table laugh. "Ignore him, Kari. I don't know why I bring him out in public."

 "Hey!" He pulled her closer and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. "You love me."

 "Mmm…. most days."

 At that point, Kari looked up to peek at the others sitting at the table, ready to greet and then head out. Except the first thing she saw was a pair of stunning blue eyes that captured her gaze. Unable to move or look away, as if he was physically restraining her with only his gaze, her heart soared and stomach dropped simultaneously. 

 It was only when Gyda started to introduce the others at the table that she ripped her gaze from his, all the while feeling his eyes never leaving her. 

 "Let me introduce these other assholes quick. At the head of the table is Uncle Floki, and the two idiots across from us are Bjorn and my half-brothers, Hvitserk and Ivar."

 Hvitserk greeted her with a flirty smile on his boyish face; while the strange-looking man, Floki, just gave a single nod in acknowledgement.  

 "We've already met," Ivar said with a wicked smirk, letting his eyes blatantly trail over her form while he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, "isn't that right, kitten?"

 Kari hated how just from the sound of the pet name, her heart beat increased traitorously and a flush rose to her cheeks. It brought to mind how his hands gripped her hips, caging her to him, how his lips and tongue caressed her skin, the peak of pleasure that crashed over her without warning...and about all the ice cubes and make up she had to use to get conceal the marks and hickeys he decorated her skin with. "Um, yeah, sort of. I…. I didn't catch your name though."

 "It's alright. I can't blame you as we were otherwise…. preoccupied." The blue-eyed devil teased, either uncaring or not noticing the inquisitive looks from the others at the table. It was unfair how striking he looked in a simple black t-shirt, showcasing his broad shoulders and muscular arms that were award-worthy. 

 Mortification was the best description of emotion causing Kari to further flush but also avert her gaze to the food-laden table. For some reason she figured the likelihood of her ever meeting Ivar again was slim to none. Clearly they ran in different social circles and really they had no reason to bump into one another. Apparently universe, fate, whatever decided her life was going too well and decided to throw a curveball at her. Then to make matters worse, here he sat arrogantly and alluding to what occurred between them in front of his family. 

 It had not gone unnoticed by her that Gyda mentioned Ivar was her half-brother, making her a Lothbrok too, even if she did not go by that last name. 

 Kari peered around the table, a polite smile on her face in a poor attempt to mask any further revealing thoughts. "Well, it was lovely to meet you all but I need to be going." 

 "You sure you don't want a ride?" Gyda kindly offered again, already reaching over to grab her own purse. "It's not a problem." 

 "No, stay. The bus should be here in a couple minutes. Your food is getting cold."

 Gyda opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider and instead gave her a quick embrace. "Ok, I'll stop by the studio this week and we can catch up."

 "I'll hold you to that." Kari returned the hug; her body tingled as if bugs crawled all over skin making her want to flee the restaurant even faster. With a hurried "goodbye" to everyone else, trying to avoid Ivar's penetrating gaze, she headed out of the restaurant. With the looks she received from the waitstaff and patrons, she quickened her pace, feeling like an intruder in the lavish establishment. 

 Soon as she stepped outside, back onto the busy sidewalk and warm sun, she inhaled a deep breath. A part of her felt awful for how quickly she ditched Gyda, who had only ever been kind to her. Truthfully, she had wanted to meet Bjorn because of the stories both Gyda and Torvi shared. 

 All of that had been eclipsed by the sight of the man she had made-out with over a week ago in that dark club…. Ivar Lothbrok.  

 Never aloud would she admit how often she thought about him since their encounter. Yet she knew it was best to stay away from him, ever if a part of her fought the notion. It would be safer, for both of them. 

 Now suddenly coming face-to-face with him, her emotions warred within her as to how she should feel. 

 Her feet hurried along the sidewalk, worried she would miss her bus because of her detour in the restaurant….and maybe a piece of her needed to put distance between herself and the handsome, cocky man that plagued her thoughts. At the crosswalk, she practically bounced on her toes, willing the light to change color faster. Her mind whirled with the new information of Gyda's relations. Could they still be friends? It also answered her unspoken question of where the wealth came from that Gyda and Torvi were accustomed too. The Lothbroks may not be a household name but it was certainly known in the business world, especially since the many sons had stepped up and expanded its empire. 

 Without warning, a firm hand grabbed her upper arm, whipping her around. A shriek stuck on the tip of her tongue at the unexpected action. She turned to be greeted by a stunned pair of eyes and open mouth. 

 "Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone else." The flustered man said, retracting his hand from her and rubbing his beard with it self-consciously. "No wonder you didn't answer when I called…. I thought you were ignoring me. Are you OK? I'm so sorry again. "

 She placed a hand over her chest, heart hammering almost painfully. The man appeared so concerned about scaring her, it was endearing. "It's fine. You just startled me, I guess I was thinking too hard."

 He shuffled his feet for a moment, looking down at them before looking up again. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

 "Kari."

 "You headed, ah, to the bus stop too?"

 A genuine smile touched her lips as he sided up next to her amongst the crowd of others waiting to cross the street. "Yeah, actually. Just got off work."

 "Hey! What a coincidence. I plan on going home, eating whatever is in my fridge that doesn't have mold on it yet and sitting on the couch watching TV for at least the next three hours."

 "That sounds amazing. I may have to steal that idea."

 He turned to face her, placing his hand on her shoulder, and stared at her in mock seriousness that made her giggle. "I give you full permission, no need for thievery. And don't eat something healthy, it's a perfect night for gluttony."

 Before she could respond with her own quip, someone grabbed Daniel from behind, throwing him to the ground. Bystanders barely made it out of the way as Daniel just caught himself on his hands and knees. 

 "GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER!"

 Kari stared in horror as Ivar loomed over Daniel, fists clenched and eyes blazing. Everyone nearby drew back, creating a wide circle and warily watching the fight that was threatening to happen. 

 "Ivar, stop!" Kari tried to move between the two men but he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back behind him effortlessly. 

 Daniel hesitantly got up, scraped hands held up in surrender. "Sorry, man. I swear I wasn't trying to make a pass on your girl. Just making conversation."

 "Sure. Now fuck off and don't let me fucking see you around her again." He seethed; the words spat out from between clenched teeth. 

 Eyeing Ivar as if he expected the man to suddenly attack him again, Daniel started walking away in the opposite direction, casting occasional glances over his shoulder. 

 At this point the light for the crosswalk turned green and those bystanders waiting began to move, all the while still leaving a wide berth around Ivar and Kari. Though she tried to ignore them, she could not help but catch a few looks of concern and pity directed towards her. 

 Pulling away from the arm still around her waist, Kari made to cross the street when Ivar grabbed her wrist. 

 "Where are you going?" He demanded, lingering fury coloring his tone.

 "My bus is just up there. I need to go or I'll miss it."

 "No, I'm giving you a ride home."

 "What? No, I don't need…. I told Gyda it's fine."

 He scoffed, relinquishing his hold on her wrist. "I'm not doing this for Gyda, now come on."

 "No, really, I…."

 "It wasn't a suggestion."

 Equal parts dumbfounded and angry, she looked back up the street only to see the doors of the bus closing. She closed her eyes for a second, begging for patience and understanding. What she really wanted to do was ignore Ivar and walk away, find somewhere to wait for the next bus. But if Ivar had followed her from the restaurant and was now demanding he give her a ride home, she figured he would not be beyond dragging her over to his car, or whatever he rode in, and continuing to make a scene. It made no sense why he would follow her to offer a ride or attack a random man. She wondered if this was the Ivar Lothbrok that her friends warned her about. 

 Deep down, she found herself still wanting to be around him again. To see if the man she met at the club was the real him or just a mask…. plus, she hated to wait for the next bus. There was a creepy lady that liked to sit next to her and tell her about the latest escapades of her many gerbils or the newest “friend” her adult son brought home for the night. 

 "Fine." She stated, turning back to him. 

 "Good girl. This way."

 Silently, she followed him back towards the restaurant and down the next street to a luxury Mercedes car. In her mind, she decided that just because she was getting a ride from him did not mean she had to be friendly. Her plan was to ignore him and stare out the window. Hopefully that was enough of a hint to leave her alone. He was the one who chased her down to give her a ride. His infuriating actions may have spurred her pettiness to supersede the wisdom of ignoring him, especially knowing he was a Lothbrok. 

 The driver held the door open for both of them to slide in. The bench seat was spacious with a detailed leather interior and that unique new card smell. Another time, Kari may have loved to ride around in a vehicle like this, pretending to be a celebrity or someone important. Now she just wanted to get home. Even if that traitorous part silently ogled him, an arm’s length away from her. 

 "Where to, sir?" The driver asked once he took his seat in the front. 

 Then with an arrogant smirk, Ivar rattled off Kari's address. 

 Kari's plans to ignore him flew out the window. She stared open-mouthed as he leaned back in the seat, brace-covered legs spread out obnoxiously. The first real trickle of fear since meeting him danced up her spine. 

 "How? I mean…. are you…. stalking me?"

 He laughed, cocking his head to the side, to eye her lazily. "You're harder to track down than most people. No social media really. Pay most things with cash. It's like you're trying to hide something."

 She gulped, the revelation he could find out all that about her so easily was unnerving. But his last statement hit a little too close to the truth to bring her comfort. 

 "But it wasn't too difficult." He added brazenly, apparently ignorant of the anxiety his prior statement caused. "And now I found you." 

 "Why? I mean… why were you looking for me?"

 He stared at her, those predatory eyes prying into her soul. She shifted awkwardly, wishing to be free from his gaze but unable to tear herself away on her own accord. Caught in his trap, his web, all she could hope for was mercy. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted down to view his lips, the memory of them against hers at the forefront of her mind…. even more than the anxiety still skating on her nerves. 

 In an instant, he reached over and hauled her across the bench seat and into his lap. A squeak flew from her as she abruptly found herself sitting sideways on his legs. 

 As her mind raced to figure out what to do, and honestly how to feel about this, his lips descended on hers and all prior thoughts vanished. His tongue invaded her mouth, forcing hers to comply, demanding attention. Without hesitation, she gave in. Her hands traced his sideburns and the braids on the top of his head. No matter how many times she tried to forget his touch, his kisses, it haunted her. Now having his lips on hers once again, she found even her memories were incomparable to the actual feel, of his lips, his hands, his breath, his body, his scent. It all drew her in like a beacon, directing her to her greatest desire and darkest temptation. 

 "All I can think about is you." He murmured, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. "Fuck…. how good you taste, how good you feel…. I could barely focus on work."

 "Ivar…" she moaned, feeling herself melting under his touch. As he pressed kisses along her jawline, a quiver ran through her but instead of feeling ashamed like before, she tilted her head to expose more of her neck. Normally so reserved with physical touch, for some unexplainable reason, she felt safe enough to embrace her wanton side with him. Somehow, she knew he would not make fun of her actions. Perhaps it was because of his reaction when finding out her virginal status. All she knew was his touch, his very presence, drew forth a side of her previously unknown while making her feel safe. 

 His hands gripped her with an almost possessive hold. "Gods, I want you." He groaned against her pulse point, the sound wicked with the sheer desire infused in it. 

 And for some reason, those three words broke the spell holding her hostage to him. 

 She froze. Slowly she leaned back to stare at him. The truth, the confession, tasted like poison on the tip of her tongue. 

 "I…. I can't." She whispered, hating how weak her voice sounded. 

 "What are you talking about?"

 "I won't…. I'm not having sex with you."

 What lust and tenderness towards her vanished in the blink of an eye. His hands that had been caressing, now gripped painfully. Eyes that beheld her as a goddess, now threatened to cut her without remorse. The very air between them threatened to catch fire with a single spark due to the tension. 

 "Why not? Cause I'm a cripple?" He snarled at her like an enraged animal. "You'll kiss me and let me get you off but you won't fuck me? Or did your friends tell you who I am? Is that it? Now that you know who I am, you're going to run away?"

 "No, it's not… no, I don't think I'm the kind of girl you'd want." Tears welled in her eyes, both from fear and the physical pain he was causing with his forceful grip. 

 "And what the fuck does that mean? You know me so well, huh?"

 That poisonous truth dripped off her tongue once again. How could she tell him that if he truly knew who she was, he would reject her? It was not even a question but a fact. It was better for both of them to stay away, to never see one another again. How twisted was her truth, how deceptive was she in the face of a man known for his violence. Even as her innermost being begged to let go of her past self and embrace this…. embrace him.  

 "I'm nobody. I'm boring. I don't have money or influence. I just am…. You'd get tired of me in like two days." She took a steadying breath, her hands fiddling in her lap as to avoid his piercing gaze. The lilac color on her nails was starting to chip at the edges, redirecting her attention for a brief second. Even if all she wanted to do was run, avoid this conversation like the plague, she knew in a way, she owed him the truth. Her next words came out in a rush, otherwise she knew they would never pass her lips. "And I don't want to have sex until I'm ready and with someone who cares about me."

 She wondered if this was the spark to set him off. How quickly he would reject her, push her off his lap, laugh in her face for her orthodox ideal, call her frigid like others before. Mentally, she prepared for it, even if every time the words were still a dagger to her heart. This time would be no different. 

 What she did not expect was after almost a minute of painful silence, for him to gently grip her chin and turn her head to face him once again. 

 "Go on a date with me."

 She balked. "What?"

 He stroked her cheek, his hand that had been gripping her thigh, most likely leaving vivid bruises, now created soothing circles. It was his voice that shocked her the most. What had been harsh and unrelenting in cruelty now was soft and gentle. "Let me take you out. I'll even follow your damn rule of no sex. Though I know you want me just as much."

 "Ivar…."

 "You can't deny it." He taunted, with a devilish grin, "You like the idea of me touching you, bringing you pleasure, showing you what you've been missing with my fingers," teasingly, he glided his fingers along her inner thigh, close to her core, "and my tongue," he licked the shell of her ear before whispering the next part, "and my cock. Tell me you haven't thought about it."

 Her breath hitched with each movement of his, his filthy words making her wet without her conscious approval and the cocky bastard knew it. "I…. please stop…." She tried to plead, only to make him laugh. 

 "Stop lying to both of us."

 "Please, don't do this. I just can't."

 "Why not?" Jaw tense, he regarded her with a look of pure hunger but also exasperation. "Give me a damn good reason."

 "It's better if we don't."

 He leaned back fully in his seat as if examining her. That devious and deadly gaze pinned her, reading her very thoughts and secrets. Beneath it she felt vulnerable and naked, something she detested. She tried to squirm out of his lap, to put necessary distance between them. His hands only tightened on her, keeping her restrained in his lap. 

 "It's not…" he started then stopped to lick his lips. And there it was, a glimpse behind the mask, that vulnerability she caught a peek of when they were at the club, "...because I'm a cripple?"

 "What? No, not at all. That doesn't…. no, you're beautiful." Soon as the last word left her mouth, her absolute shock at his question morphed into humiliation. Both of her hands flew up to cover her face, burning with embarrassment.

 "Beautiful, huh?"

 "Shut up."

 He chuckled, running his nose along the column of her neck and sending a shiver down her spine. "And you still won't go on a date with me?"

 Cautiously, she eased her hands from her face to meet his amused gaze. "I'm sorry." She replied with a shake of her head. 

 He eyed her as if trying to suss out more of her secrets, head tilted to the side and eyebrows furrowed slightly. After a long moment, he smirked. "Alright. We'll see about that."

 "What?"

 "You heard me. You'll change your mind eventually. I can be very persistent with something I want."

 With a push of a button on a nearby console, loud music filled the air but he did not release her. Instead, he continued to stroke her back or legs as he gazed out the window. Every time she tried to squirm out of lap, he would tighten his grip on her hip or thigh, silently demanding she remain. Finally, she gave up and relaxed against him, enjoying his soothing touches and the warmth of his body. 

 Ivar Lothbrok was the most complicated man she had ever met. Just in the past hour, she witnessed him go from cocky to murderous to sensual and now dare she even say…. charming. It baffled her that he purposefully sought her out, even if it was stalker-ish. That he wanted to go on a date with her, knowing she would not put out at the end for him. Her image of him and the one painted by her friends were so vastly different…. she wondered which one to believe. Not that it truly mattered, since they would not be seeing each other after this. She could not open that door. It was better this way. 

 She was disheartened when they reached her home. The way their bodies fit perfectly together, how comforting his touch and presence was, it was unnerving and intriguing. A small part of her wished the drive was longer so they could continue remaining in this bubble of illusion. That she could soak this feeling up just a bit more, for something to hold onto when she was alone. How life could have been between them if fate was different. 

 The driver pulled up the luxury car in front of the unoccupied, short driveway. With no car there, that meant her roommate was not at the townhouse. Probably for the best, since if Alana had seen Kari getting out of a vehicle with Ivar, she would have lost her shit. 

 "Come on… tonight." He whispered into her ear, entwining their fingers, those exquisite eyes begging for her to change her mind. "Let me take you out, kitten."

 "I can't…. but we can be friends... if you want." 

 Soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. What kind of stupid thing was that to say? She needed to stay away from him, she knew it. But seeing that last hopeful gleam in his eyes and the despair that replaced it as she told him 'no' once again…. it was too much. 

 A cocky smirk slowly spread on his lips, like he knew something that she was not privy to. He laid a kiss on the back of their entwined hands. "If you say so."

 Carefully, he helped maneuver her off his lap, and out of the vehicle, his hands grazing over her hips and thighs quickly. She turned around and raised an eyebrow, for him to only stare at her in an innocent expression. Instead of being upset, like she should have been, she just rolled her eyes and unsuccessfully tried to keep the smile off her lips. 

 "Um, thanks for the ride." 

 "Yeah. See you soon…. friend." With a teasing wink, he closed the door and a second later, the vehicle pulled away. 

 She watched the car drive away and wondered why the word 'friend' left a sour taste in her mouth. 

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

“Roman! Roman wake up! Roman!”

Malika held her eldest grandchild in her arms, gently trying to shake him into consciousness. He wasn’t responding.

“Mom? What’s going-”

Adam stopped mid sentence, frozen at the scene before him. He hadn’t known what to expect when he got a desperate call from his mother telling him to bring an ambulance to Factory Park, only that whatever it was, it was bad enough that his mother would actually call him.

“How did this happen? When did you find him? Is he breathing?”

Adam knelt on the ground and gently removed his nephew from his mother’s arms. He lay Roman down on the ground again, noting the significant amount of blood that was already soaking into the stone. Probing around the obvious injury to Roman’s chest, Adam tried to quickly assess the rest of the damage. There was too much blood to accurately tell, but it was his initial assessment that Roman had suffered at least one gun shot wound.

Malika wailed as he worked to find a pulse. It was unbearable to watch. She had seen crime scene photos from Abraham’s death, as Salem had “accidentally” taken the case file home from work and “forgotten” it on the table. This scene was eerily similar to that one. It very much looked like the person who shot Abraham was the same person who shot Roman.

On top of everything, the sky opened up and it started to hail.

“Get the umbrella from the ambulance and hold it over Roman,” Adam ordered. “The last thing I need is him taking more damage from ice.”

Malika did as commanded, and tried to summon her usual projection of grace and calmness. It was no use. Not when her son was doing frantic chest compressions on her grandson.

“Dial Thea’s number,” Adam ordered. “I need anyone we can spare down here.”

Malika called in the volunteer medics, and was relieved to hear sirens wailing in the distance mere moments after she hung up. She and Salem were going to have a long talk later about city council needing to hire more staff. If her grandson died because Wanda had wanted to spend less money in the budget, there were going to be consequences.

The sirens attracted interest as the medics arrived. Everyone was on edge already with the high death rate Arkhelios had developed, and everyone just had to know who had been next to die.

Malika shielded her eyes as bright camera lights flashed in the distance. Reporters were exiting vans and setting up cameras to capture the last moments of her grandson.

“Take over for me, Mom,” Adam commanded. “I need to grab some things from the ambulance and I can’t wait for help to get here.” He placed her thin, perfectly manicured hands on Roman’s chest and showed her how to push. Malika’s first reaction was to pull away, but Adam held her hands firmly against Roman. With a quick kiss on her head, he sprinted to the ambulance. “I think we got here just in time. We may be able to save him.”

Malika pushed as instructed, as Roman’s blood soaked through her coat sleeves. Roman’s blood was quite literally on her hands.

It had been a relatively quiet night at the Helios household. Lucy had been trying to learn a musical scale for school, while the boys all watched TV in the living room. Her piano practice came to a sudden end though when she heard Abe screaming.

Lucy ran as fast as she could through the halls. The TV was still on, flashing the words “breaking news” across the screen. Lucy watched in horror as the screen showed medics arriving to take over chest compressions from an inconsolable Malika.

“Is that Roman?” she managed to finally ask. “That can’t be Roman, it’s a mistake.”

The camera zoomed closer to Roman’s face as he was placed on a stretcher and then disappeared into an ambulance. His face was pale and bloody, and was far too limp for him to be alive. Nathan and Nickolas had gone silent watching the screen, looking like they were on the verge of tears. Lucy couldn’t even process what she’d seen. As much as she teased Roman, she hadn’t really thought that something this bad would happen to him. Him and Abe running away from Arkhelios was just a back up plan, one they’d never need. Now it looked like they’d been too late.

She looked at Abe, who was looking incredibly pale. He was clutching his stomach, his face tight with pain.

“I-I think I need a doctor,” he stammered. “I don’t feel so good.”

The boys ran to get their mothers, while Lucy stayed with Abe, holding his hand tightly.

The hospital in Arkhelios was very small and not very well funded. They had a small population, and prior to Abraham’s death, very few people were seriously ill or died. Elaine called for an ambulance, only to find that Arkhelios’ single ambulance was already occupied by Roman. She looked out her window and saw that the roads were completely empty, save for some people who parked regularly on the street. Everyone outside seemed to be congregating at the park crime scene, looking for answers.

“Fine. I’ll drive there myself.”

Elaine was about to hang up when she heard a familiar voice start issuing commands in the background. The ambulance was clearly available now as Malika was ordering around hospital staff like she owned the place.

“Adam! You go answer that call while I call your father. I’m sure he’s already heard about this and is worried sick.”

“I’m not leaving Roman. There is absolutely no way I’m going anywhere until he’s stable.”

Elaine was suddenly very glad that she hadn’t hung up so quickly. Roman might still pull through this.

“You are too close to this to help anyway. No one is letting you operate on your nephew. You go help that Helios boy, or Roman may never forgive you for it.”

Adam was still protesting in the background, but Elaine’s blood had suddenly seemed to stop pumping. Her entire body felt cold.

How did she know it was Abe who needed the ambulance? The office staff hadn’t once used Abe’s name. Maybe she overheard something when the hospital had radioed the ambulance for it’s status?

“Hey! Hey!” Elaine shouted into the phone, catching the attention of the hospital staff who like Elaine had been watching the chaos of the Bellamy family unfold. “Cancel that ambulance, we’re staying here. Send anyone unrelated to the Bellamys here instead. Completely unrelated to them or I’ll be suing you into bankruptcy.”

Ironman had some...history with pregnancy, and happened to have several medical subroutines installed in his operating system. He claimed that Abraham had installed them himself so Ironman could assist him with his work, but Elaine wanted no knowledge of whatever her father had been doing. The less she knew about her father’s experiments, the happier she was, considering that she was now living in the same house as where her father would have been doing those experiments. She settled the younger kids down with a movie while Lucy watched Ironman preform diagnostic scans of Abe and compute data.

“It’s just stress,” he finally diagnosed. “There’s nothing wrong with you or the baby. If you can stay calm and get some rest, I think you’ll be fine.”

True to Elaine’s demands, a medic soon arrived at the front door, and took over for Ironman. Thea Davis was the best the hospital could provide without too strong a connection to the Bellamys. She was strangely very close to Roman, but seeing as Abe trusted Roman, the hospital felt that they were within Elaine’s accepted parameters. When Thea confirmed Ironman’s diagnosis, the entire household began to relax. She gave Abe something to help him sleep (after Ironman had scanned it thoroughly) and Elaine helped him climb into bed.

She watched Abe fall asleep, standing on guard in case of another potential attack that night. What new scheme had they very narrowly dodged today?

Her mind was racing, but was also exhausted from the constant stress. How had Malika known that Abe was in distress? Why was it so important to her that Adam be the one to tend to Abe? Who was recreating Abraham’s death with Roman Bellamy and why?

Elaine sighed, confident that Abe was sound asleep and currently not in any danger. She had Ironman bring in one of the reclining chairs from downstairs, and set up her vigil by Abe’s side for the night. There was no way she was getting any sleep that night. The pictures on Abe’s desk stared at her, making her uncomfortable enough to want to place them face down. She always knew that Roman Bellamy was trouble, and she had been over the moon when he had been sent away. If only that had been the end of Abe’s romance with him. This whole situation was far gone from just disapproving families and teen pregnancy now, but Elaine had no measure for how crazy things had gotten. How much worse could it get? The Bellamys were desperate to get to her son, that much was clear.

There was one question sticking in her mind that Elaine couldn’t bring herself to answer. Had the Bellamys simply attempted to use Roman’s unrelated shooting to get close to Abe...or did they orchestrate the entire situation including the shooting to get Abe worked up and in the same hospital they would be in with Roman?

[riorsonxaden]

can we get a drabble for jurdan + this is gospel by panic! pls 🥺 CONGRATS ON 1K BABES!!!! 🥳💞💞

The Fear Of Falling Apart

Warnings: mention of death, mention of alcoholism. HEA (for the most part)

Song of choice: This is gospel-Panic! At the disco

And thank you love!!! Thanks for always supporting all my crazy ideas. p.s. Sorry if this hurts babes. I promise I have smut in my docs for you.

Jude sat in the aged recliner next to the hospital bed. Unsure of how much time had passed stuck in the cold room. Only the sounds of beeping monitors and the low murmur of tacky infomercials from the tv overhead. Then of course his breaths. Deep and shallow as he slept. The same way his chest rose and fell.

She roved over his slumbered state. Thick, soft inky black hair messily brushed to the side. A hauntingly beautiful contrast to his ivory toned skin. Which looked more on the scale of ghostly pale than a glimmering white. His lips, full yet dry and chapped. Her guess was from all the content he spilled from whatever liquor he consumed. Amber eyes moved to the various tubes connecting him to the monitor. Keeping him steady. Keeping him alive.

Jude loved Cardan. Cardan loved Jude. It wasn't that simple. 

Not where alcohol was involved. For Jude, no matter how much he loved her. He seemed to favor drinking a tad beyond it. Her pleas for him to get help fell upon deaf ears. His friends...only cared for his wallet and line skipping. They were no help to her cause. She's fairly certain the staff at Insmoor General Hospital know her by name. For how many times, Cardan had needed his stomach pumped. Like always she drove as fast as her car could go. Jude would wait for the nurse or doctor, letting her know of his condition. This time it was a nurse who approached her. The words the nurse spoke were more like sharp knives that she knew would leave scars. That would haunt her. 

"your boyfriend's heart stopped for ten minutes."

Ten minutes. Cardan had died for ten minutes. In one single sentence, her entire world shattered. The fear of him being a broken memory stole the very breath from her lungs. 

Even now when she looked at him in peaceful rest. She could picture him laying there. Motionless. No movement under the thin blankets. No beeping from the monitors letting her know he was alive. Few things frightened Jude. Losing Cardan. No matter if it was seconds or minutes. terrified in a way she could barely hold a grasp of. 

Usually, when he drank heavily, she saw red. Furious at him for indulging in copious amounts. Until the rage and anger fell away. She'd lay in bed with him. Telling him, how much it worried her. He always promised to get better. He never did. A vicious circle, a dance with death. All it would take is a misstep in the routine to slip and flip. Cardan had gone and done just that. Apart of her wanted to scream at him until her lungs burned and her cheeks turned deep crimson as they did when her frustration with him hit its highest point. Tonight the thought of never hearing his criminally wicked tongue again weighed heavier than anger. For Jude, she felt as if she was on a cliff. Mere inches from falling apart.

Her hand trembled as she reached over, slipping her hand into his. It was barely warm, like death still hung around him. Readying to take him into a permanent slumber. Jude squeezed his hand, nails digging below the skin of his fingers. He didn’t grip back. If she didn’t study his face at that moment, Jude would have never caught the slight flinch from his lids. Good. If she was lucky he would hear her. 

“Cardan,” Jude took a calming breath, running a thumb over his knuckles, “I-I don’t know what to do anymore,” the hot sting of tears burned against the lining of eyes, she swallowed thickly. It didn’t prevent the wetness trickling down her cheeks or the way her voice cracked when she continued, “I want to hate you right now,” gnashing her jaw together and then losing it,” I want to slap or threaten you. And then tell you…” another breath. Jude wasn’t sure if she felt a featherlight squeeze or imagined it, “That..that if you loved me Cardan. You would let me go. Because. Because,” her tone rose an octave too high, her lips trembled. Shaking the way her body was as her heart twisted in agony, “I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore. But-”

To her surprise, his hand squeezed back. Jude flicked her gaze to his eyes. The lids pulled back as he slowly blinked awake. The slow trickle of tears turned to an endless stream. Jude made to take her hand away. He held on to her. Like she was a tether to this world. To his world. A grip so tight she could feel the cool clammy sweat between their palms. He groaned trying to reach up and wipe the wetness staining her cheeks. He was still too weak and fell back on to the bed. Jude rubbed her tears away with the opposite hand. A tired grin fell on his lips.

“Jude,” Her name on his lips came out in a rasp, from sleep or what he endured she couldn't say. Cardan’s handsome features twisted like saying her name physically pained him.

Again Cardan tried to ignore the pain in his body as he attempted to rise. Jude moved to the edge of the bed thigh to thigh with him. Being this close to him. She fell off that cliff headfirst. Letting him see the damage he had done to hear that night. If this didn’t work she wasn’t sure there was anything else she could do besides walking away. Jude refused to give up. Not without one final fight. Cardan rested his head against her shoulder, an arm draped lazily around her. There was power in his fist as he clung to her. Fingers grasping at the back of her shirt. Jude copied his movements. The only difference was she felt hands running through her auburn strands in calming strokes. Her body shook against him as she finally, truly gave into the fears of what his habits did to her. Jude knew her sleeve matched his own. Soaked and used as a tissue. Cardan’s grip tightened around her with every shaky breath, every sniffle from either of them.

Jude willed herself to pull away, catching his face in her hands. Their foreheads touching and she could still smell the reek of alcohol on him. Almost like he wore it as cologne. She should ask him how he felt if he needed anything. Her emotions for once bested the thought.

“I want to hate you right now,” she choked out, biting back a sob, “because I hate what you’re doing to yourself. I hate that you’re not taking this seriously. For ten minutes. Ten minutes Cardan you died. You left me in this god damned world, you insufferable bastard. And for what?” her pitch rose with every word.

“I know.”

“I wish I could leave you. I want to,” Jude pursed her lips before continuing, Cardan only stared at where their thighs touched. She hoped it was shame that made him unable to look her in the eyes, “I’m... I couldn’t live with myself if, if, “ she stumbled trying to find the words. Too many thoughts were racing and pulsing in her mind. Jude couldn’t grasp onto one long enough to articulate it fully.

“Jude,” his eyes finally lifted under thick long lashes to meet hers. Dark circles encased around his coal eyes, “I had. No. I have failed you. And you should. I love you enough to let you go,” she was quiet, her expression unreadable as he coughed, “I know I died. Explaining it is difficult, but I know it,” gingerly he cupped her cheek, wiping away a stray tear with the tip of his thumb, “I should have stayed dead. This is a second chance. I am a sickness that needs to be cured.”

“What are you saying?”

He took in a breath and released it, “I need help.”

Jude wasn’t sure what stole the air from her lungs first. Cardan’s admittance or the way he held her. Arms wound around her like she was his lifeline, a saving grace. Like Jude was his gospel.

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