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aces-and-angels · 1 year

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Title: Just Try It (Vaughn ft. the Mercy Park Crew)

A/N: A forgotten fic found in the depths of my drafts- originally this was supposed to be for ROD week, but I never ended up posting it. Until now lol

I have not seen a lot of Vaughn content since joining Tumblr. Maybe I’m not looking hard enough, or maybe this is the start of giving this side character the major love he deserves. Side characters create the perfect opportunity for crack!fics- and damn it, I want to create a crack!fic. Think of this as: if Ride or Die had a filler episode.

Rating: PG/PG-13 (Swearing)

Pairing(s): Colt x MC (implied)

Summary: Inspired by this article. Vaughn is in a culinary rut and needs to reignite his imagination. So, he calls up his favorite band of criminals to help him.

---

“Vaughn, you in there man? Are you hurt?” Logan frantically scanned his place for any signs of a break in. No broken windows- a good sign. He jiggled the doorknob. Locked. The eerie silence didn’t do any favors for his anxiety. He glanced down at the text that had him bolting out of the shop to his cousin’s apartment.

Vaughn: HELP- need you here ASAP.

“Wait a minute,” Logan yanked his wrist free, “you’re not being murdered?!”

His head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. “Thank God, you’re here!” Vaughn pulled him inside and shut the door. “We have a shit load to do. Sooner we start, the better.” Logan was dragged into the kitchen where he saw piles of grocery bags filling up all the counter space. Annoyed, he gave his very unharmed cousin a glare.

“Why would you think I was being murdered?” He shoved his phone in Vaughn's face. He squinted as he read the small text on the screen. “That message was accurate. I regret none of those words.”

“Vaughn, there’s an entire gang out currently hunting my ass down. The hell was I supposed to think?”

“Look, I’m sorry. But I’m fine, see?“ He twisted his harms, "No stab wounds, I can walk, and I still look incredible.” Logan’s lip twitched upwards, the worry fading away from his body.

“You’re a six at best,” he teased, chuckling at his cousin gasping in mock-offense. “So, what’s with all the food?” He got a better look of his kitchen island. Pickles, blueberries, sesame seeds. “And what the hell are you trying to make?”

“I’m in a rut man,” Vaughn sighed, ignoring his question. “I haven’t come up with any new dishes for the truck in weeks and customers are starting to notice.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yes it’s really that bad,” he echoed, “now call up the rest of the dream team. We’ve got work to do.”

---

One quick text to the group chat later, the rest of the crew arrived and were sat in front of a table full of questionable looking dishes

“Why did I come here?” Colt groaned, wishing he hadn’t followed Ellie.

Mona poked at a bowl of ice cream topped with diced pickles. “Full offense, V, I think these combos are going to put you out of business.”

“We came because Vaughn needs our help,” she squeezed his hand underneath the table, partly to lift his spirits, mostly to make sure he didn’t run out the door.

“You haven’t even tried anything yet,” he whined, setting down another one of his creations on the table, “look at Toby. Now that looks like a satisfied customer.” The group whirled their heads around to see him scarfing down a steak smothered in blueberry jam.

“Wha-?” he asked, mouth full of food, “’s free.”

Colt rolled his eyes, stabbing his fork into a green apple slice smothered in salsa. He took a deep breath before shoving the fork in his mouth. “How is it?” Ellie peered into her boyfriend’s eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. Wordlessly, he placed his fork to her lips for her to taste as well. She took a small bite, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Too much apple, not enough salsa.”

“That’s what I thought,” Colt hummed, pushing the bowl back towards Vaughn. “You gotta dice the apple, man.”

“It’s awful, but I can’t stop eating it.” His face contorted in disgust as he bit into another fry. “ My brain keeps gaslighting itself into thinking my experience is going to change.”

“Dice the apple, got it,” Vaughn wrote down his feedback in his notepad. “Logan, how’re the honey chili fries with pickles?”

“Yeah, you can pair it with this salad that’s bringing up my repressed childhood trauma,” Mona deadpanned.

“Fries-induced Stockholm syndrome,” he scribbled another note down. “That could be a fun special, right?”

---

Over the next few hours, the crew reluctantly filled their stomachs with Vaughn’s experiments, each one stranger than the last. After the last dish, they all sprawled out in the living room.

“I’m definitely going to poop weird later,” Toby blurted out, breaking the silence.

“Dude, shut up,” Logan groaned. He was lying flat on his back, trying to ignore the growing pain in his abdomen.

“If I have to try another pickle-infused dish, I’m going to kill the next thing that moves,” Colt threatened.

“I’ll help you,” Ellie grumbled, her cheery disposition replaced with utter regret after the fifth pickle-forward recipe. “Why don’t people just sell pickles by themselves? You don’t need to do anything special to them,” her rant was muffled into Colt’s shoulder. He attempted to soothe her by kissing her temple while lightly stroking her back. The gesture seemed to work, as he felt her shoulders relax into him.

“Could you two be less nauseating? I’m trying not to hack up that salad,” Mona glared at the touchy couple across from her. With his free hand, Colt flipped her off, the grip on his girlfriend slightly tightening in defiance. She responded by flipping him off with both her hands.

“I know y’all are hurting right now, but I really appreciate the help,” Vaughn said earnestly. Despite the twinge of guilt that he felt at seeing his friends suffer, he was certain that all those taste tests would help him keep his food truck afloat.

“No worries, man. Glad we could help,” Logan said with a strained voice, a new wave of pain hitting his stomach.

“Speak for yourself, pretty boy,” Colt scoffed. He turned his head towards Vaughn, “I’m serious about killing you if you shove another plate in my face.”

“Noted,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, feel free to crash here until you feel better.” The crew members mumbled a bunch of nonsense, which Vaughn took as an okay.

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missameliep · 1 year

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Hii 🥰

Would your MC(s) / OC(s) ever play a game of who knows who better? And if so what would be the questions / answers?

And who would know who better?

Hi, sweetie! Thanks for the ask ☺️

They would definitely play this kind of game! Some out of sheer competitiveness, others to prove their partners they know them better lol

I'll answer it for five of the couples I write for: Elizabeth and Hamid, Arwen and Tyril, Malia and Troy, Zoe and Colt, and Olivia and Damien.

1. Elizabeth and Hamid (Desire and Decorum AU!/Second Chances)

If we're considering the beginning of the relationship, I think since it's that stage when you're getting to know your partner that it would be a balanced dispute. They would both nail the questions about each other's favorite food, songs, movies and color, the other's dream vacation and something that makes the other laugh, for instance, but probably would be lost when it comes to questions about favorite childhood memory, first kisses and so on, these are the sort of question they would have trouble answering since they don't know each other very long like some of the other pairings in this list. And from time to time, I believe, depending on the question, Hamid would just reveal something completely out of the top that Liz would never imagine, like if someone asked about an embarrassing moment and he would just casually drop the most absurd tale about trespassing or crashing into an Arab sheik party or befriending someone absurdly famous totally unexpected and in the most absurd way possible; and end the story with "but it went well and we became friends as close as siblings" or "and now he invites me every year to his birthday" and Liz would be like 😯

2. Arwen and Tyril (Blades)

Tyril would only play this game or any other if certain conditions were met, primarily having had a good amount of wine in his system, cozy rainy evenings and Arwen reminding him if he beats her in the game, he could ask anything as prize. Sometimes he wins, sometimes she does. They have had time to learn about each other, and as elves they are really perceptive and catch on the smallest things, and so many of his questions would be about favourite weapons or worst adversary in battle, while hers would lean to embarrassing stuff or deep philosophical questions like if one of them turned into a worm what would the other do.

3. Malia and Troy (Wake the Dead)

These two know each other deeply. Twenty years of friendship and spending a lot of time together does that. Either the question is about favourite passtimes or pet peeves, or deep meaningful questions about hopes and dreams, they would definitely nail it. I think the only things they wouldn't know about each other were about the secret love they kept from each other for so long, and since Malia never told Troy about past relationships he's totally in the dark there. I think the only times Troy would be at disadvantage is if they would be playing with another couple who was really into zombie killing, let's say @jerzwriter 's Zoe and Eli 😉 I can see the questions suddenly being all about favorite weapons or best time to face drones, and Troy would be like "well," *head scratching* "crossbow? You even sleep with one close..." and "best time? never?" and Malia would just explain about the advantages of a machete or something, and "Oh! Blades" she would ramble about swords forged at Ironmount and in the end she gives up saying she can't actually pick one and Eli and Zoe would join that conversation about best weapons to each terrain and somehow one of them would suggest they could try some axe throwing... And Troy would sigh *these people can't have fun* and drink his beer 🙄 though on a second though drunk axe throwing does sound like fun. He could make a wager on who would hit the target while blindfolded.

4. Zoe and Colt (Ride or Die)

They would totally suck at this game. Colt specially, most of his assumptions are absolutely wrong about Zoe. They don't know each other's favorite subject at school or best childhood friend's name, but they say they know each other in what matters. The game usually helps them find out things they didn't know about each other, and even if Colt say it's lame, they enjoy playing it only the two of them.

5. Olivia and Damien (Perfect Match)

They absolutely nail this game. They know each other, they learned about each other profoundly over the years even with Damien being so closed off, plus they are too competitive to lose. If they play with other couples like Nadia and Steve, they are absolutely invested in the game like that one Will and Grace episode and equally obnoxious about being so knowledgeable about the other. They like the games, but they love winning more.

Thanks for the ask! It was really fun ☺️

#ask box!#choices fanfic #oc: elizabeth foredale #otp: elizabeth x hamid #mc: arwen of riverbend #otp: arwen x tyril #mc: malia jones #mc: olivia park #otp: olivia x damien #hamid x mc #tyril x mc #colt x mc #damien x mc #troy hassan x mc

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2008yottsumehalberdierevx · 5 months

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Is anyone in this part of the Choices fandom still active? A lot of these posts seem a few years old but I decided to give this a shot anyway.

I just came back to the game recently after a few years (for RoD2 and Hero2) and found out Ride or Die 2 was cancelled ;-; It’s my favorite book on the app so I would love to interact with others in the fandom that want to talk about it (especially since Idk anyone irl that plays Choices), the characters, or what the plot could have been in book 2. Feel free to DM me!

I feel content deprived 😭🧎🏻‍♀️

#mona rod #rod mona #choices #pixelberry #playchoices #ride or die #Logan rod #Rod Logan #rod colt #colt rod #mona x mc #rod #ride or die 2 #rod2 #mpc #mercy park crew #playchoices ride or die #ride or die: a bad boy romance #playchoices rod

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raleighcarrera · 1 year

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anTiquity thursday

thanks for tagging me miss jade @zigtheeortega !! sorry it’s not a twc wip but i already posted my last abandoned mason fic KJFDGHJKFDHG

anyway this is great because i actually was working on a follow-up fic in my colt x mc kings & queens series but i lost interest in it. so here’s the first 2,000 words

tagging @pixeljazzy in case u would also like to dredge up any old wips

(g.uns / s.hooting tw btw)

***

“Here,” Colt said, passing the empty beer bottle in his hand over to Jamie, inclining his head across the back lot, “Bring that over there.”

Jamie eyed the low wall with trepidation. “Not while she’s shooting like that,” he said fairly.

Colt rolled his eyes at him, taking the bottle back. “I’ll do it,” he sighed, pushing to his feet with a groan. “Go get me a new one.”

Ellie didn’t hear him as he made the short trek across to where she was standing, legs planted hip-width apart. Silently, he watched her for a moment, her dainty hands curled confidently around the gun she was firing, one shot after another after another. The bullets pinged off the wall, the last shot that rang out only grazing the beer bottle she was aiming at – lightly enough to rattle it, so that the bottle fell over on its own and shattered against the cement.

Ellie huffed in annoyance, lowering her arm. Spent shell casings tumbled to the floor. “Fuck,” she said, miserably.

Colt leaned into her field of vision, then, neatly depositing his empty beer bottle where the old one had been. “C’mon, reload,” he urged, miming with his hands in case Ellie couldn’t hear him over the ear plugs she had in, “You’ve got this.”

She did, and he moved back around to stand behind her, arms sliding around hers until Colt’s fingers gripped Ellie’s on the gun, her back pressed snugly against his chest. As her shoulders tilted, the light caught the diamond on her left ring finger just right, her engagement ring sparkling in the sun.

Nine carats, just like she’d asked for. He didn’t know why he’d ever bothered arguing about it in the first place.

“You’re aiming too high,” Colt murmured into her ear, gently lowering her arms a few inches. “And you have to hold steady, or it’ll go wide. Lock your elbows.”

She did. His index finger tapped hers, encouraging Ellie to pull the trigger.

Bang. The shot was a dead hit; the Corona bottle shattered to pieces, tumbling backwards over the wall.

He smiled as Ellie turned around with a scowl of annoyance. “You’re such a show-off,” she said, thumbing the safety back on and handing the gun over to him.

Colt shrugged, his obnoxious grin widening. “What?” he asked, “You looked good. You almost had it.”

“Don’t patronize me, I’ll knee you in the dick,” Ellie mumbled, bouncing up onto her toes for a kiss. Colt obliged her with a laugh, catching her chin in his free hand.

With Jamie gone, they were alone in the back lot – the people working on putting the pool in weren’t around today, so there was no one to stare as she slipped her manicured hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

His eyes lingered on the low neckline of Ellie’s tank top when she pulled away. Colt let his hand drop to her shoulder, then pressed his thumb into the dip at the base of her throat, dancing his fingers down over her collarbone.

“I want to bite this,” he said lowly. “Are you done yet?”

Ellie hummed interestedly. “Yes,” she answered, “But – I need you to come with me tonight.”

Colt felt his brows knit together as he tried to envision the paper calendar in their shared office and what might’ve been written on it. If there was work or a meeting on Ellie’s mind, it had completely slipped his. “Tonight?”

Ellie stared back at him, unimpressed. “To the florist.”

Right. Sometimes he sort of forgot that, in addition to everything else on his plate, he was partially helping plan the wedding of the century, at least in Ellie’s mind.

“I knew that,” he insisted, smiling charmingly at his fiancée. “Because we obviously have a lot to talk to her –”

“Him,” Ellie corrected, though she looked amused.

“—him about,” Colt finished, without missing a beat. “On account of how you really want that… roses… arch, for the ceremony.”

Ellie paused for a too-long moment, but he didn’t waver, even if he was sweating on the inside. Finally, she said, “I guess you do listen, sometimes.”

“Baby, I hang on your every word,” Colt declared, emboldened by his victory, letting his arm curl around her shoulders. “How could you even think I’d forget about the florist?”

Jamie came back with his beer just as Ellie opened her mouth – presumably to tell him to shut up – the look on his face unsure as he handed it over. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Colt traded him the gun for it, shrugging carelessly. “Do they have an appointment?”

Jamie’s eyes darted back and forth between them, as though he was about to deliver a piece of unpleasant news. “It’s Logan.”

He felt Ellie still beside him. Colt sighed, then handed the full beer bottle back to Jamie and took the gun from his hands.

“Relax,” he said, as Ellie shot him a look, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, “I’m not going to use it.”

“Did he say what he wanted?” Ellie asked Jamie, ignoring him. Colt folded his arms across his chest, gritting his teeth.

Probably, he had some fucking problem he wanted their help with. Probably, it would involve monopolizing all of Ellie’s time. Probably, he was going to give her those pathetic, sad, wobbly wide eyes until she agreed to do whatever he wanted, and he’d be stuck standing to the side, watching –

Her hand found his back pocket again. Ellie patted his ass twice, and Colt sighed, letting the anger deflate from his shoulders like a popped balloon.

It was kind of annoying, how effortlessly she could read him. But he knew Ellie was probably right and he was probably wrong. Probably, everything was going to be nothing like it had been the last time the three of them were together.

Hopefully, whatever Logan wanted wouldn’t take very long at all.

“When’s Raven supposed to be back?” he asked abruptly, squinting up at the sun.

Jamie winced. “Not for another two hours. You guys want back up?”

“No,” Ellie snorted, “Logan’s harmless. This is just… bizarre. We’ll handle it.”

If she was rattled by the thought of seeing him, Colt couldn’t tell. Ellie’s face was smooth and free from emotion as the two of them walked inside, placid like she always was whenever they had a role to play. If he didn’t know any better, Colt might think they were out at a party or taking a meeting in a club, instead of at the shop – the one place where neither of them usually bothered with pretense.

Part of him had expected Jamie to be wrong, somehow. Just the name Logan felt like a ghost’s, and Colt had figured it was impossible for him to be back now, or at all, when it had been so long. But sure enough, as they emerged onto the shop floor, there he was, as broad-shouldered and dimply as ever, boyish face at odds with the frame of a man as old as they were.

His eyes looked even older, like the years since Ellie’s high school graduation had been harder on him than the two of them. Jesus – it had been almost a decade, after all. Seeing him standing there made Colt feel all the years at once, and they felt like a lifetime.

“Hey,” he said, apropos of nothing. Logan nodded at him, then looked over at Ellie. “Cool space.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Colt asked.

Ellie smacked his stomach with the back of her hand. “It’s good to see you,” she said, more politely. “I… God, it’s been so long. How are you? How’ve you been?”

Colt bit his tongue. Did she have to sound so interested?

Logan lifted his arm and ran his hand through his hair. The stilted way he half stepped forward and then stopped made Colt wonder if he’d wanted to hug Ellie and thought better of it at the last moment. “Good, I guess. I’ve been in Detroit, mostly, but – I mean, you guys could probably guess that I need your help.”

Of course. Privately, Colt thought he had some nerve showing up and asking for a favor, and half a mind to tell him so. They had managed just fine on their own. They hadn’t called in any IOUs from any of his old friends, even though he’d wanted to, sometimes, when things were particularly hard and everything felt so unfair.

“We’re listening,” Colt said, doing his best to sound bored.

“Well, I – shit, did you guys get married?” Logan was bug-eyed, staring at the giant engagement ring on Ellie’s hand.

“Not yet,” she answered, before Colt could snap at him, his razor-thin patience bending precariously. Of course Logan had managed to push all the right buttons. There were few things Ellie loved more than showing off. She held out her hand obligingly and Logan stepped forward, dipping his head for a better look.

“Wow,” Logan laughed. Colt closed his eyes to stop them from rolling back into his skull. He searched his brain for a list of reasons not to throw a punch and came up empty, bar the irritating thought of swollen knuckles and Ellie’s disapproving frown. He supposed those were deterring enough.

“We do actually have shit to do today,” he said, “If you don’t mind.”

Logan blinked, pulling back abruptly. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Well, there’s no easy way to say this. I need to steal a car.”

Neither of them moved, and he knew Ellie was wondering the same thing he was. Where was the catch?

As the silence stretched on between them, Logan winced. “From a museum,” he continued slowly. “Under police surveillance.”

Beside him, Ellie tensed almost imperceptibly. Colt hoped he was wrong about why. Still, he asked, “The NHRA?”

“That’s the one,” Logan said cheerfully. “You guys probably heard about the –”

“Exhibit on loan from the National Museum in France, yeah,” Ellie interjected. “What do you want with it?”

Logan’s eyes darted to the floor. He shifted his feet awkwardly. “I’m in debt,” he admitted, “I owe a guy. And in two days they’re gonna move the car he wants off the main floor and into storage until the guys from Europe come and pick everything back up. So my window’s closing. And – look, I really want to do this without anyone getting hurt.”

He looked meaningfully at Ellie, who glanced away. Colt bit back a sudden, violent urge to insist that Logan never look at her that way, or try to make her feel fucking guilty about something she had nothing to do with.

Logan stared evenly back as Colt glared at him. He seemed unsurprised that they all knew what no one was saying.

But Delaney kept tabs on every single cop in the city, so of course he knew that Ellie’s father was working the museum. Even if he hadn’t already known, it was no surprise. Detective Wheeler seemed to show up on every case that might have something to do with cars or the daughter he’d so desperately tried to control. Over the last few years, they’d gotten pretty good at navigating around him.

Ellie’s fingers dug into his side just as Colt opened his mouth to tell Logan to fuck off and die. He cut her a look out of the corner of his eye. “What’s in it for us?” she asked levelly.

Logan’s eyebrows lifted. He looked at Ellie in surprise. “Seriously? You guys don’t think you owe me one?”

Colt shot Ellie another look, doing his best to convey that he was at the very precipice of his boiling point. Did they fucking think they owed him one? He had to be kidding.

Please, Colt begged with his eyebrows, Let me punch him. Just a little bit.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I don’t see how.”

Colt exhaled, folding his arms across his chest.

#maybe one day i'll finish it #ride or die #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #myfic #long post

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charlie-f-montague · 1 year

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Egor x Reader [Loop 4]

Will you get shot in the head again tonight? Let’s hope not. But even if you do, at least you’ll get to meet Egor properly first. [AO3]

I’m moving this fic to my secondary account (aka this one) in an attempt to compartmentalize all my fandom stuff.

"Hey, we're heading to Updam, for the concert and then the party, care to join?" That annoying eternalist in his black and gold outfit asked.

You were too stunned to speak. You didn’t even know who killed you this time. Was this fate? Was this what your life was going to be like now for the rest of all eternity? No, you weren’t going to have any of it.

Colt was useless. Dr Evans was violent when she wasn’t abscent, and even your employer was also on the trigger happy side, at least he was easy on the eyes.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You decided.

“Really?” The other eternalist beamed with joy. “Oh, it’s going to be so much fun” Did you hear about the blood fountain?”

You twisted your mouth in an expression of disgust. Of course there’d be a blood fountain.

“Nope, and I intend to keep it that way. It’s gross.” You told the man. “Save me a seat on the truck, I'll be there in a sec.”

There was something you needed to check before leaving. You ran through the bunker and into the clearing. None of the other eternalists paid attention to you as you made your way to the strange device that sat on a metal table in the middle of it all. When you looked to Egor’s container home, you noticed that all its windows were broken, and splatters of blood could be seen all around. You could even make out the blue laser targeting system of the turrets inside.

“Hey,” you called out to the nearest person, “Did you happen to see Colt Vahn around today?”

“See? Nah.” The eternalist replied. “But those windows sure did not break by themselves. I hope that idiot won’t make too much of a scene when he finds out.”

“You mean Egor?”

“Who else?” The eternalist scoffed and walked away.

Despite him killing you the other day, it didn’t sit right with you that they talked about him in that way. But, you did not have time to dwell on that, as you had a truck to catch.

---

The ride to Updam had been painful. Not because of the bumpy road, or the group of Henriet’s cultists that decided that their day of chaos was not over and started shooting in random directions. No, the painful part was the obnoxious company you’d found yourself in.

"-and I told her, ain't my kid, and even if he is, he's too ugly, just dump him at the fire station. She of course obliged," the eternalist who'd invited you rambled on.

"It's clear why Alexis invited you of all people." You whispered under your breath.

"And even let me bring you as my plus one." He replied with a coy tone, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You clicked your tongue and pushed his arm asside with the barril of your gun.

"Nah, I say Alexis invited us cuz we're the coolest gang on this island," the woman you asked you for drugs yesterday spoke.

If you could roll your eyes any louder, you would have. But thankfully the projector lights above Updam signaled to your cravane of trucks that now was as good of a place as any to stop and block the road.

---

By the time you crossed the town, you were out of breath. You'd had to pick up the pace to lose your obnoxious company, but at least you were here now.

You passed the red gates, slipping on a mask you'd pocketed on the truck, and took a second to take in the scenery.

Grandiose would have been the word, had there been more people in the courtyard. A wet snowflake landed on your shoulder, reminding you why it was empty, and encouraging you to head to the main hall.

"Hey there." Someone greeted you.

"Sup','. You nonchalantly replied to the drunk eternalist.

People were chatting and relaxing on the couches in the main room, clearly waiting for some sort of event to start. You approached the bar in its center, and helped yourself to the first thing you saw, as you looked around, trying to spot the familiar figure.

You lifted your mask to take a sip of the brownish beer in your hand, and spit it back into the glass almost immediately. It tasted like burnt socks.

A chuckle from the bartender made you spin around.

"Funny, huh? What'd you even put in there?" You asked, annoyed and very much not in on the joke.

"Nothing." The bartender chucked again. "It's from the tap. Yeoman's chocolate beer. Offending your taste buds since 1953." To accentuate thier point, the bartender tapped on one of the tabs. "Alexis loves this crap though, so who am I to judge if he brought some 500 litres of it to my island?"

You put the glass down, trying to chew the tase away, before picking another, lighter-coloured glass of beer.

"Wait," you suddenly realised, as you looked back up at the bartender. Their voice did not match their large frame, and when they moved, to pour beer or to clean glasses, their gestures seemed to lag behind ever so slightly. "Miss Blake?"

The bartender brought a finger to their lips, and you could have sword they winked at you under the mask.

"I heard a very special guest will be coming to the party tonight, unless he's dumb enough to have gotten himself suck at the Complex again." They said, not without venomous amusement. "If I were you, I'd enjoy myself for another few minutes, and then find some corner to hide. Our dearest chief of security is as bloodthirsty as our resident creep Alexis today."

Before you had had the time to reply, someone threw their arm around you.

"There you are, I thought you'd run off to have all the fun without me."

There were over two dozen people in this reception room alone, and somehow that annoying eternalist, still in his balk and gold outfit, although with the added wold mak, had somehow managed to find you.

"Nah, just scouting ahead." You dryly replied. "Here, drink this, and meet me at the blood fountain." You added, handing him a pint of chocolate beer.

You glanced at Juliana, not expecting, but hoping for some help. A discreet gesture to the double door at the opposite side of the room was all you got.

Quickly, you made your escape, not turning back when you heard coughing sounds from the bar, but smiling in satisfaction.

Behind those double doors laid a smaller, but not less packed, open space that served as a dance floor. Eternalists, all in dresses and suits were enjoying themselves to one of Ramblin' Frank's songs. None of them looked remotely like Egor.

Your curiosity got the better of you once more, as you seamlessly blended amongst them, wondering if any of them were Alexis.

"Yeah, make those tits slap." One of the masked men said to one very drunk eternalist, as they both danced to the tune.

That marked your queue to leave, as you remembered that this was not your type of crowd. You had nothing against parties, but you preferred to spend them in good, or at least decent, company.

Not really knowing where to go, you slipped into the neighboring room. There, you froze in place for several seconds. You weren't sure what was more disgusting; the table-long chocolate fountain whose contents had been replaced with pig blood, or the eternalist slurping from it with a straw.

"Want some?" She helpfully offered, noticing your gaze.

"I'll ... pass?" You hesitantly replied before slipping away once more.

Thankfully this door had let you outside, away from the creeps and the weirdos. Although, all things considered, at least they were happy creeps and weirdos, who didn't have to worry about spending the rest of eternity re-living the same afternoon.

"Want a smoke?" Someome offered. "The fireworks are about to start."

You gladly took the cigarette, and turned your eyes to the bay.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," Frank's voice came through the loudspeakers just on queue.

You'd been expecting fireworks, and perhaps in some twisted sense that had been exactly what you'd gotten when the distant coastal settlement burst in flames.

"Damn," the eternalist who'd handed you the cigarette spoke, "no wonder his albums aren't selling if he can't even launch those things up in the sky."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that explosion was not intended," you replied, still unable to look away.

So many people had died just now, but it didn't matter as they would be back, ignorant and ready to try again, tomorrow. You remembered one of Henriett's sermons, from when you'd first arrived to the island, and were looking for the Array you'd be guarding. She's said that there was balance, between order and chaos, and between good and evil, that the two flickered between both states, creating a perpetual state of dissonance that prevented the common folk to achieve true enlightenment.

Now, you know she'd been full of shit. There was only chaos and only violence on this island. Shootings, stabbings, assisted trips down cliffs and bottomless pits, ...

The sound of a distant argument slowly brought you back to reality. The eternalist next to you had already turned his head up to the rooftops, where the duet of insults was coming from. Your eyes followed his.

"Fine, I'll leave." One of the two ended the dispute, and marked his exit with the slam of a door.

It took you half a second to realise that you knew that voice.

"I have to go. Thanks for the smoke." You said, as you extinguished the cigarette bug in the brick ramp by you, and rushed back inside.

The eternalist you'd left behind lazily waved goodbye, before returned his attention to the billowing smoke coming from the bay.

"Where did Dr. Serling go?" You grabbed the first person you saw indoors, having to restrain yourself from shaking her.

"Who?" She seemed perplexed. "How am I supposed to know who anyone is with these masks anyway? I came here with my girlfriend and now I can't find her either. You're not her, are you?"

You let go of the woman, and continued your search.

Knowing your luck with doors, you tried to avoid going through random ones, but when you saw an open door to a balcony, with a familiar red jacket on the other side, your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly traversed it.

"Doctor Serling?" You timidly asked. You knew he had no reason to shoot you today, but you couldn't help but feel weary.

"Huh?" An eternalist chilling on the balcony turned towards you. "I'm not a doctor."

"And you're not being talked to either. There's free drugs in the kitchen, go check on that," Egor spoke. He didn't turn around, nor was his tone particularly engaged. "Idiot." He muttered once the eternalist left.

The two of you were left alone on the veranda. Unlike you, Egor didn't seem to notice the cold. He was leaning onto the stone handrail, eyes lost somewhere in the distance. Pensive, was that the word? He didn't bother brushing off the snowflakes that lazily fell and stayed in his dark hair. There was something romantic about his frame against the dark mountains in the distance, lit up by floodlights pointed not quite at him, and accompanied by the distant sound of music.

"I'm assuming Alexis wants me back at the party where he can fully mock how much of a failure as a scientist I am." Egor stated, not asked, after a long silence.

"No." You replied, perhaps with not enough disgust at the idea of doing Alexis' bidding. "I... Actually, I'm here to talk about your research?"

"Are you asking me?"

He turned around, still leaning onto the handrail, discreetly shifting the rapière at his feet to his right hand side.

You were more than aware of the weapon, as you involuntarily brushed against your own gun, but at this point, one more or one less death didn't mean much. Which was somewhat terrying, as it had only taken you four days to get to this nihilistic acceptance.

"Well," you continued, "I actually work for you, back at the Complex, and I overheard you mention something about," you paused, not quite sure what he'd actually been on about when he was yelling at you two days prior, "breaching the link between past and future?"

Something akin to curiosity sparked behind the yellow lenses covering his eyes. But that spark died down almost as soon as it had appeared.

"Ah, so it was Wenjie who sent you. Because she thinks my theories are "bogus" and "crazy", to quote her word for word, and that Colt had nothing to do with today's 'mishap'." He accentuated those words as I'd they'd personally offended him, which, from what little you knew of his personality, was likely the case.

"No, I have yet to meet Doctor Evans, if truth be told." You continued, as you slowly approached the handrail.

"You don't know anything about psychometry. So do us both a favour; stop pretending to care and go join your braindead buddies at the party,"

You clicked your tongue, cutting him off. You wanted to tell him to stop with the insults, but you didn't dare. And the wolf mask hid your surprise at the fact that he actually stopped talking.

"Okay, I don't know anything about psychoma-"

"Psychometry." He dryly corrected.

"But," you continued, "I know something about the loop that you don't."

He scoffed. Then, he moved aside, to leave you more space on the handrail, or perhaps to put some distance between the two of you.

"And you're adamant that Wenjie did not send you." He stated.

"No one sent me. Came all on my own to talk to you, because I was hoping you'd be able to, I don't know, help? Explain what's going on? But last time that we talked-" you cut yourself off, remembering how the eternalists had reacted when you'd explained it to them.

Egor, who this whole time had been staring into the distance, shifted and focused his gaze on you. You could barley make out his expression behind those glasses, but you could at least see that he did not look like a man about to shoot you.

"Well, that would explain how you'd know about my research," he spoke, "Can't imagine you lot giving a running damn about natural sciences, and the groundbreaking potential of para-temporal communication." Then, noticing that you'd gone silent, he fiddled with the barrel of his riffle, before saying "well, go on then."

"Right." You took a deep breath in, before explaining the events of the past three days to him.

“That sounds implausible, to put it lightly.” Egor spoke once you've finished your explanation. “I don’t see what could have destabilized the loop in such a way, unless Wenjie were to cause this on purpose, which I also doubt she would have done. Retaining your memory was part of the concept. Without it, all we’re doing is repeating the same steps, leading up to the same failures each day. We’re no better than the spirits surrounding us; floating blindly in an endless of concepts beyond our control…”

“Yeah, and I’d like to stop floating in that sea.” You spoke as soon as he finished his monologue, hoping that he would not start a second one.

“You would rather live among those ignorants while time wraps around you, redefining everything we knew and hoped of knowing about modern science?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you could almost make out the outline of his eyebrows rising above his glasses.

“I’m not saying I’d like for things to go to how they were,” you lied, suspecting that if you were to tell him the truth he’d call you an idiot and chase you out, “But I've never felt more alone in my entire life. And it’s only been four days.”

“Alone, huh…” Egor replied, turning away, and looking up at the starry winter sky.

He seemed to be lost in thought, and you didn’t know what else to say. For several long and cold minutes you stared at the explosion at Freestand Rock, the flames had died down, and it was becoming harder to distinguish the flames rising up into the sky.

“I don’t know what to do.” You broke the silence. “I guess I could try talking with Doctor Evans tomorrow, but after that, I’m not sure. I can’t live like this, stuck on that shit island, no offense, with the shittiest company possible,” Egor’s attention returned towards you, but he seemed to have taken your words to heart, despite them not being directed at him. You pulled out your gun, placing it onto the handrail. “I don’t know. I guess I could just shoot myself and hope for this to pass one day.”

“I wish I could help. But even if I had my equipment, there is nothing I can realistically do before the loop resets. There’s nothing anyone could do, I’m sorry. Wenjie would not know what caused this, because if she did she would have prevented this memory wipe from happening in the first place. And you’re more likely to get shot than anything else as that woman would never admit that she was wrong.”

“Well, what about looking at why this has happened, why I remember?” You turned towards him, trying to catch a glimpse of even the faintest promise of hope behind his tinted glasses. “Mr. Vahn shot me. But if this has been going on for a long time, he must have shot me before, what changed?”

Egor’s thin lips pressed together in an even finer line. He shook his head ever so slightly. He didn’t know.

Struggling to focus your gaze, you took off your wolf mask, and put it next to your pistol. You looked into his glasses once more. You knew he wouldn’t remember you, mask or no mask, tomorrow, but in that moment you needed to lie to yourself.

“Helping people isn’t what I do.” Egor shook his head again, breaking eye contact. “It’s just not. People don’t come to me for help.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking away. “And this is so far beyond my expertise, of course I could offer theories, good ones, but they would need to be tested, and without the proper equipment which of course Alexsis doesn’t have because he does not respect real science,” he trailed off.

Then he looked at you once more, his lips moving in a silent, and not fully formulated sentence. Without warning, he vanished before your eyes.

Your first instinct was to try and grab him before he’d had the chance to run away. You did grab something, and after a short second of awkward silence, he reappeared before you. You were holding his hand in yours, while his other hand was holding his gun.

It was your turn to be at a loss for words. It made sense. You weren’t his responsibility, and he could not fix the loop at this hour, in this place, by himself. You had no way of contacting him earlier in the day, nor did you have any guarantee that he wouldn’t shoot you on sight if you were to meet at the complex. This was a dead end, for both of you.

You let go of his hand, and without looking back, quietly said:

“Goodbye Doctor Serling.”

—

The road to Array Y was dark and cold, but you couldn’t care less. You could have taken one of the trucks, as you were certain none of the drunk and high eternalists in Updam would have cared. Maybe you should have gotten drunk and high yourself, forgetting your problems for the evening. But it felt wrong, in an inconsequential kind of way. You knew that tomorrow you’d come to, sober and all too aware, down by your usual station.

You stumbled over a pothole, and almost tripped over. Cursing, you kicked the side of the hole in the road. It was too dark. The starlight was drowned out by the distant and dim pulsating light of the massive ark that towered over the island. It was where you were headed, but on your journey down from the hill, a cliffside had obscured everything but the town you’d come from.

With a heavy, tired, sigh, you glanced at the frozen sea in the distance. You could just about make out the icebergs closest to you, but out in the distance the back of the water mixed with the black of the sky.

And suddenly, Updam went dark as well.

You snapped your head to where the town had been, worried that it had somehow gotten swallowed up by the loop. But once your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you made out its outline on the horizon. Soon, fireworks and faint red flames sparked up throughout it.

You figured that the power must have gone out, and carried on with your hike downwards.

“Shit.” You swore, as you felt your ankle slip and twist against another pothole.

You tried to regain your balance, but to no avail, as you immediately realized that there was no ground below you. The fall was brief, and you weren’t sure if you’d felt cold rock or freezing water below you. You barely had had the time to note the fact that at least this broke the pattern of you getting shot, when the darkness of the sky, and the sea overtook you.

#egor serling x reader #deathloop #deathloop egor #reader insert #i like to think that while all of this is happening Colt is freezing his ass off at the Complex #waiting for the MC to show up so he can have a civil conversation #and Juliana is getting pissed at Alexis remarks at the party and would definitly shoot him during the balckout

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riding-and-dying · 2 years

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ROD High School AU

Note: Just reposting this officially onto this blog for posterity in case I delete my old blog. Also, I have ROD brainrot again RIP.

Thought of this idea after playing some other dating sim with the trope of girl that has a crush on a jock even tho her bff since childhood likes her, but won’t admit it. Basically everything is the same in turns of school for Brie pretty much.

The option to fake Logan as a student kinda gave me this idea, wherein he’s the number 1 quarterback in the school. Naturally, he’s popular and hangs in a social circle that reflects that. As a result, he’s “friends” with Brent and Ingrid.

Before coming to LA, he moved around a lot with his adoptive older brother, Vaughn (originally, his older cousin, until he stepped in for Logan’s mom). They moved wherever Vaughn thought they would get more business for his food truck, which eventually led them here. Logan didn’t care so long as they had some form of shelter and a place he could go to school to. Also, he’s just happy to be included in someone else’s life.

Vaughn is the main income provider; however, as soon as Logan was old enough to work, he did part-time outside of his school and sports in order to help Vaughn. As Vaughn had a knack for cars, it was natural that he taught Logan his love for them too, so Logan tended to gravitate to labour involving machines, which ended him up working for Kaneko’s Autoshop. The work is demanding but the pay fair, and it came with some bonuses too.

Logan had only moved to LA about 2 years ago, yet he had made a mark almost instantaneously.

Colt is the childhood best friend of Brie because of their moms’ being best friends since their youth. Colt’s mom (whom I dubbed Yuki) is actually her godmother/aunt and same with Colt and Brie’s mom. They even lived in the same neighbourhood, which was surprising since she was a single mother providing for two, but luckily Brie’s mom was owed a few favours by the landlady.

Growing up, Colt and Brie hung out a lot. They loved to practically do everything together. They ate together, napped together, played together, etc. They even went to all the same schools. They had an inseparable bond, unique to them. Colt was also forced to watch a lot of Sailor Moon and the like as a result, but in turn, he’d make her watch Naruto and Bleach, but was forced to stop by their parents after she kept getting nightmares from certain graphic episodes.

Colt was even friend with Riya. Even though he was only a year older than them both (a few months, Brie would retort), he acted like their older brother of sorts, protective yet mean. He liked teasing them a lot, but mainly Brie, but after going too far one time, and causing her to cry, he toned it down. He was also something of a chaperone for them if they wanted to go places but needed supervision.

They often spent time at the other’s place, since they were next door neighbours. It was normal for them to see the other already at their place and having a snack and making themselves at home.

Brie is also familiar with Colt’s dad, and so whenever Colt spends his weekends with his dad at his apartment, Brie tends to visit. She’s also familiar with his “step-mom”, Chia, and considers her her third mom. In turn, Kaneko is like her 2nd dad, weirdly enough.

In regards to Logan and Colt’s relationship overall, they are rivals and don’t get along usually, meaning that someone has to separate them. At the shop, they work harmoniously but still butt heads, while at school they act like the other doesn’t exist to avoid conflict.

Colt is bitter at Logan because of how he suddenly rolled in one day and became his dad’s new favourite while Colt spent his entire life trying to gain his dad’s approval and praise.

At school, Colt is the outcast bad boy with the motorcycle. Logan is the jock with the sleek car. Brie is the honour student that rides the bus… Very different worlds.

However, a bet with Brent changes all of that… Brent betted that Logan didn’t have the balls to get Brie to fall for him. What’s on the line? 10,000$, and when you’re struggling to get by… you don’t back down from that kinda money.

When Brie first met Logan back when they were Juniors, they bumped into each other and Logan helped her up. Ever since then, Brie has had a crush on him, but hasn’t made a move. She’s seen him mostly in the shop, so she tries her hardest to hang around there. When Colt found out why she has been acting weird and visiting the shop more often, he got livid and his relations with Logan worsened.

It’s not fair when the girl you’ve liked since you were kids falls for some nobody that suddenly enters their life acts like he’s king of the hill.

When Logan began the bet, he faked it that he needed help on his schoolwork even tho he’s doing pretty good already, so that Brie could tutor him. He also introduced her into the world of rallies and parties, and before he could stop it, he fell for her.

He even introduced her to Vaughn, which he has never done before with any other girl. He told her about his life on the road and the hardships he faced and the truth of his situation wherein he lives in the slums, and not somewhere great like how everyone at school depicts.

Logan meant to tell her about his bet, but Colt caught wind of it first and blurted it out.

Riya is an ambivalent friend, rooting for Brie no matter her choice. Evidently, Colt’s family and hers want them to get together. Ingrid and Vaughn are in Logan’s corner cheering him on.

#mc x logan #mc x colt #brie takeuchi #rod #ride or die #choices #playchoices #My writing #rod colt #rod logan

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the-unconquered-queen · 24 days

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What are some Choices books that you feel if they came out today, they’d probably be single LI books? Because I've given it some thought and I'd say some of them might have been:

The Royal Romance: Would have absolutely been a Liam-only book (I’ve talked about this a bunch in the past), so you’d end up marrying the heir to the throne, Liam/Lia instead, and honestly it would’ve probably worked out better for the writers in the long run if they were only going for a specific narrative instead of trying to force the one-arc-fits-all thing most players have complained about in the series at some point.

Ride-or-Die: Not only is MC’s attraction to Logan something that sets off the story, but I also can’t imagine Colt or Mona being love interests following how modern books are. Don’t know what f!Logan would be called, though.

Save the Date: I mentioned this once before, but I think it would’ve been a Justin book which would’ve leaned harder into a “forbidden romance”, but I imagine this book having come out in their affairs era because it would have been the epitome of the stuff PB loved back then: an LI who’s MC’s “boss” and also I maintain that they would’ve made Justin/Justine the one having the wedding, and of course you’d end up breaking them and their fiancée up, so there’s that other component PB was obsessed with. But since that wave of books seems to have ended (abated?), then the engagement/fiancée arc possibly wouldn’t be a thing today, but there’s every chance they’d still throw in a gf to be MC’s rival as a subplot.

I also wonder if they’d have made Open Heart a single LI book (they practically did anyway) but the thing about OH is that it’s not mandatorily a romance book, so for that they’d have had to make the romance a main part of the story.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

But at the same time! Are there any recent(ish) Choices books that you feel would have been multiple LI books in the past? Because I’ve got thoughts about that, too, but the only thing I've got so far is:

Crimes of Passion: Ruby and Luke would’ve absolutely been romanceable, and they’d have been a bigger part of the story for it, too. The MC x Trystan romance doesn’t really play a crucial role until b2 anyway, and everything that happened in b1 could’ve been accomplished with them as good friends as well. Trystan would’ve still been the main LI, just not the only one.

And then sometimes I've wondered if TCH (b1 at least, if they hadn't planned it as a series) would have let you choose whether you ended up with Kieran or a Sun Court LI (potentially Radiance if they weren't a traitor and dead—moreso because of the dead part because even as a traitor they could've had the same b2 arc they gave Aerin in Blades 2, since Radiance is already a copy of b1 Aerin), but idk, probably not, since the series hinges so much on Kieran being in love with MC and them having that Beauty and the Beast thing going on.

#playchoices #I think I’d previously wondered if f!Liam would be named something like Leanne #but just now it hit me that not only is Lia a bit closer but also she’d be named after Lia from TC&tF

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a-cloud-for-dreams · 8 months

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This is literally Colt and Lyra sorry not sorry I don't make the rules 🤷‍♀️

#playchoices #ride or die #colt kaneko #colt x mc #lyra lexington oc #coltra 🏎️#cute prompts

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harbingerofdespair · 1 year

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I still hope ride or die comes back. Still waiting on them to say they were joking...🤡

#playchoices #choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #ride or die #mona x mc #logan rod #mona rod #colt kaneko #rod colt

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choicesficwriterscreations · 6 months

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CFWC F/AotW - Oct 15 - 21, 2023

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🦄= Bisexuality Awareness Week | 🏳️‍🌈= LGBTQIA 🎃 = Halloween

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

CRIMES OF PASSION

CoP M!MC and F!MC Fanart 🎨- @fairymatchmaker

Follow Your Heart (to New York) ✒️🎨| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - art by @/irdeinfierno (IG) fic: @storyofmychoices

Nope ✒️| Trystan Thorne x MC - @alj4890

Tragedy: The Origin ✒️| Trystan Thorne, Juliana Georgescu, etc. - @starsarewithinme

You're Shining (more than any star) ✒️| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @reveluving

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Fire & Water (Series) ✒️| Shreya Mistry x M!OC - @korgbelmont Part 4

HIGH SCHOOL STORIES

Milestones ✒️| Adrian Zhou x F!MC - @cadybear420

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Cas Harlow x Gabe Adalhard Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @nukritus

Immortal Desires Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈| m!cas harlow x m!gabe adalhard x nb!mc - @nukritus

Snow in Crimson, Starlight in Gold (Series) | m!cas harlow x m!gabe adalhard x nb!mc - @aria-ashryver Chapter 36: Out With the Old ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🏳️‍🌈🦄

IT LIVES IN THE WOODS

Lucas Thomas Fanart 🎨 by @myautumnrose

NIGHTBOUND

When Hunters Become Prey (Series) ✒️| F!MC x you choose LI - @ladylamrian Chapter 23: The Return

OPEN HEART

PERFECT MATCH

Hayden Young x MC Fanart 🎨 - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

RIDE OR DIE

Colt Kaneko Fanart 🎨 - @nukritus

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔥| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 17: A Lot of Learning to Do

The Crown & The Shield (Series) ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Constantine x Jackson - @angelasscribbles Chapter 8: Healing

Forevermore (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| King Marquis (Liam) x MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 1: The Next Chapter

Midnights Like This (Series) ✒️| Leo Rys x MC - @queenrileyrose Part 11: A Little Closer

Savage Love (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️ | Drake Walker x MC, Liam Rys x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 36: Lost and Found

The Stranger ✒️| Drake Walker x MC - @petiteboheme

SLOW BURN

Telekinesis and Telepathy ✒️| Everett Flynt - @asexual-hugger

WAKE THE DEAD

WtD Drabble ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Troy Hassan x MC - @lilyoffandoms

CROSSOVERS

Immortal Desires / It Lives In the Woods

Alternate Birthday ✒️🏳️‍🌈🦄 | ID OC x ILITW OC - @aallotarenunelma

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missameliep · 2 years

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From lovers to strangers (Colt Kaneko x MC)

Book: Ride or Day (post canon)

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x Ellie Wheeler (MC) (past relationship)

Rating: Teen and Up (the swearing, kissing)

Word count: 3,4k

A/N: this is my submission to the first @choicesprompts : August 15th - August 31, the prompt is in bold. I hope I made it on time!

Forgive any mistakes, there was no editing this time, and it's been a really long time since I wrote for Colt.

The cool wind pushes my hair back as I walk along the familiar path, every step taking me deeper into the past. It’s been years since I’ve been here; everything is different.

Everything is the same.

I’m not paying attention to the present as I walk, I’m too lost in memories of long ago. That’s why I don’t notice the person walking towards me until I hear a familiar voice call my name.

I freeze. It can’t be. What are the odds?

I lift my head as my eyes dart wildly around before finally landing on a face I’d recognize anywhere, even now.

“It’s you.”

The late afternoon sun cast its light over us and our long shadows on the ground almost touch, but we do not. The gap between us is larger than the few feet that keeps us apart. An entire Grand Canyon separate us.

Swaggering in my direction, sporting a worn leather jacket that looks almost the same, he eyes me with curiousity until stopping a few feet away from me.

His voice echoes, filling the distance.

“Who else?”

I am not offended by the tone nor the insinuation that my previous statement was stupid. He is right. Who else but he could be here in this place and know my name?

I am surprised nevertheless.

His jet-black hair is longer and dances with the wind. The black mass of hair moves away revealing a fresh cut over his eyebrow that will leave another small scar on his beautiful face. Some of those scars were not there when we met, reminding me that time has not stopped since the evening we said our goodbyes.

It didn’t stop for me – though sometimes it stretched endlessly in my attempts to convince myself I was in the right path, pursuing the right dreams – and it certainly didn’t stop for him.

Nearly a decade went by.

Nothing remains the same.

Neither of us is the same.

Over the years, whenever I came to visit my father, I avoided places I could run into him, which was easier than I first assumed. Even the times I met with Ximena and Toby. Just picked a different club, a different crowd. It’s a big city. We could both be here at LA at the same time and oblivious about the other, coexisting in different universes, moving on and never meeting. No matter how much, deep deep deep down I wished we would meet.

This time, however, when I booked my flight, I picked one earlier than necessary, giving me two entire free days before my three-day lecture at UCLA.

I wanted to come here.

It was an unexplainable urge that possessed me ever since Roger found that box in the closet. It was like opening a faded pink Pandora’s box.

Instead of all the evils, the box contained one too large Black Sabbath t-shirt, a silly cactus that used to be in my car, a couple of instant pictures and that old phone. After so long, I was amazed it still worked, keeping pictures and messages alive from a different version of me. Little tokens and treasures in the palm of my hand. Too many memories came rushing back from a part of my life that I have tried to bury deep inside.

I didn’t say a word to Roger about the Mercy Park Crew, gangs or heists. I called it all garbage and lied about throwing that stuff away.

Ever since that day, I wanted to see the garage and visit this place. A walk down memory lane was not enough. I needed an entire tour to the past to remind myself of that rush of energy and life. I considered taking a jump off this cliffside and dive into the ocean even if it’s no longer summer and I’m not a rebellious eighteen-year-old anymore, looking for adventure and trying to prove myself.

Maybe I would find what I have lost.

Maybe I would find something to help me close this chapter of my life before moving to the next one. A chapter I don’t feel ready for. Maybe I’m just getting cold feet. People say that happens often, right?

I didn’t expect that he would be here. Not in person at least. I didn’t expect to see him so soon. Or at all. But he is right there in front of me. If I just reach out, I can touch him. Though I won’t.

My mouth opened in spite of being emptied of words and then closed.

Expectantly, he stared at me.

I know not what to say. Maybe I should leave. That is the wise choice. But I don’t turn around.

As if he was one of the samples in the lab, I study him. His unsmiling face and enygmatic eyes. My gaze roams further down. Like black tendrils crawling beneath the edge of his white t-shirt to the side of his neck, there are pieces of a tattoo I have never seen. Does he have as many tattoos as his father once had? Is it because of him? I wonder what is drawn in his skin, if they symbolize victories or losses, and how far the needle touched it. I wonder if his pains are etched in his skin as mine are in my heart.

“Why you’re staring like I’m some fucking ghost, Ellie?”

“Sorry, Colt.” Saying his name after so long is bitter and liberating at once, like removing a foreign body that has been stuck in your throat all too long. “I was not expecting to see you...”

A smirk curls the corner of his mouth, and he’s that nineteen year old boy again, the twinkling in his eyes while thinking about a clever comeback.

“Then you shouldn’t come to my spot...”

There is humour in his quip, undeniably, and something that edges irritation. Is it Colt being Colt or did he want me to be looking for him?

I don’t let myself linger in that thought. I shouldn’t presume anything or expect to be able to read him now.

I force myself to break eye contact and smile towards the cliff, answering with a joke of my own like I used to, “The garage must be doing good if it bought you the sea coast...”

He snorts with laughter, and I dare throw a glance at him over my shoulder. There’s only amusement in his expression now.

“I told you. Someday I was gonna rule this city. One cliff at a time.”

“Solid investment.”

We share a quick laugh, almost too intimate.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, and his eyes accompany the motion with undivided interest. A shiver runs down my spine but I tell him the same protocolar thing I do whenever I meet some colleague or student and I feel wary on how to carry on a conversation.

“You look good.”

His lips are drawn inside his mouth in that familiar way before relaxing into a small smile that still makes my heart accelerate.

“Thanks.” The corner of his lip and an eyebrow raise at me. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

“I have a mirror, so I don’t need to fish for compliments...” I mimicked his dull tone and his eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before his expression returned to the usual resting bitch face.

“No ulterior motives?”

“Do I need one?” I snort and stare him down. “I'm just making conversation...”

A gush of wind blows our hair and pulls his jacket back. I bow, lowering my gaze to the ground to protect my eyes and his shadow has earned a pair of black wings ready to fly over the Pacific ocean. Like the myth.

As he zips up the jacket, the wings are gone.

I don't share this thought, but the tragic Icarus remains in my mind. Too young, too eager, too close to the sun. But for a fraction of his life, he flew. How many of us can say the same?

Colt glances at the ocean and back at my face, studying me. It’s so similar to the way he did the night we met. I wonder what he sees now. Would he tell me again I don’t belong here? Or that I am trying too hard? He wouldn’t be wrong.

“You're obviously hot...” his voice comes almost like a whisper, gently carried by the wind, “but the best parts of you were not your looks...”

My entire face warms with a rush of blood. I am not easily flattered, I know how attractive and accomplished I am, but his words somehow hit me differently and he knows it.

His gaze lowers in appreciation. Soon, however, the smile disappears when his eyes narrow staring at the diamond ring in my finger.

There is no use in hiding it now, but I do it anyway, shoving my hands deep in my coat pockets.

“Do you still dive?”

His gaze quickly return to mine and he waits a beat before answering my question.

“Sometimes...” His lips roll inside his mouth. “So, is that why you’re here?”

“Maybe...”

“Are you looking for company or a nudge? I can push you.”

“Always so helpful...”

“I am a helpful guy.” He takes a step forward, edging me and the cliff, and wiggles his brows. “Just say the word.”

“It’s too cold. And the sea looks rather unfriendly. I’ll probably have cramps and drown...”

He tsks me and I throw him an inquisitive glance.

“None of that would ever stop you...”

“What can I say? I am much wiser now.”

“Did the East turn you into an old boring wimpy?”

“I’m older, not old.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and look at him in defiance. “I am no longer young and stupid.”

“You were rarely stupid.”

“Thanks.” I emphatically roll my eyes and take a step back. He follows, still keeping the distance.

We both look at the ocean in silence. The roar of the waves reminding me of the dangers bellow.

“You regret?”

“What?”

“Things...”

“Wow. Could you be any more vague?” I laugh and play with my hair, curling a lock around my fingers over and over. He tries to look cool, but the way his eyes don’t waver from my face indicate eagerness for an answer.

“A fashion intervention was totally necessary back then.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” he snorted with laughter.

“Jerk.”

“Don’t come at me for agreeing with you!”

I don’t hold the laugh.

“What about the rest?”

“There are no do-overs,” I shrugg, looking back at him, “so, what’s the point? The past is not a place we can live, right?”

I try to come as nonchalant, and if he suspects I am not entire honest about it, he doesn’t say anything.

“Are you back?”

My negative comes in a shake of head.

I take a deep breath, letting the salty misty fill my lungs. The sun is slowly descending towards the ocean, painting the sky in orange shades.

“I missed this...”

“What?”

“Everything. The sunset. The ocean.”

“I heard there’s an entire ocean on the other side... Just take the I-95.”

“I already did that... It’s nice.” I lift my hands and deftly braid my hair to avoid it from getting into my face and mouth as the wind blows stronger. “It’s actually conveniently close. Beautiful sunsets. No jams. Unlike here. But...”

When I stop talking, he kicks a small rock and it falls over the cliff. I kick one too, while dancing around what we don’t talk about.

“You miss it here.”

A lump forms in my throat and I don’t trust my voice, so I nod.

He nods too and his hair falls to his face for a moment.

This is the complete opposite of what I imagined meeting Colt would be like. There are no passionate kisses nor angry shouting and fingers pointing at each other’s faces.

Years ago I desired meeting him face to face with all my heart. First in a naive and hopeful way, as if it was possible to resume what we had, ignoring that we lived in different worlds.

With each passing week without news from him, that earlier feeling turned bitter. Resentful, even. I wondered why he never reached out. How could he forget me that quickly, while I still loved him? Many times I wanted to march into the restored garage and shout that question to his face. Why did I expect that he would not forget me?

I hated myself more than I hated him for being so naive. I spiralled into self-loathing and cheap booze before focusing on the one thing I was ever good at: studying.

He moves, protecting his eyes with a hand from the dust blown by the wind, and deliberately gets closer as if about to say something. Perhaps changing his mind halfway through it, he simply shoves his hands inside his pockets and stares at the horizon.

In silence, I stand beside him.

The dusking sky is almost purple with splashes of orange and red and it is breathtaking.

I search my brain for anything else to say.

I don’t want to talk about the few but intense months we had. I don’t want to talk about the dreams and expectations that crumpled or the way I don’t fit in the roles expected from me. I don’t want to tell him I don’t know who I am or what I want anymore.

I silenced about those things to my therapist and my fiance, I will not disclose it to a stranger.

Stranger.

From lovers to strangers.

That is what we are now.

What is left to be said if you cannot say what truly matters? Do we talk about the weather or how horrible traffic is? Maybe something more controversial like what he thinks about the candidates running for Senate or what he makes of those guys who still believe in flat Earth?

I don’t want to talk about any of that either. I fear if I open my mouth now, the truths I have hidden inside me will spill like a broken dam.

Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. I press my tongue to my palate and blink them away. I force myself not to break, not to give in first.

I don’t want him to know how much I have missed him and ached for him and hated him and worked so hard to not think about him. Every unsaid word and broken promise consumed me. I once was a girl with love in my eyes but now I don’t have love nor hate for him, I am long past the hope and the anger. I don’t know what I have.

“Are you thinking about doing it?” he asked me quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“The jump.”

By his tone and the way he stares at me, I suspect he doesn’t mean the literal dive from the cliffside. Either way, I don't have an answer.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“What if I drown?”

“I wouldn’t let you...”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t. You should trust yourself. That’s the only thing we have in the end of the day, right?”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Only if you think about it...”

A blanket of purple and deep blue is covering the sky and I can barely make his face as the sun disappears into the ocean, taking the dive I won’t.

For a moment, Colt looks over his shoulder, distracted by the roar of a bike’s engine in the distance.

“What if it is not like I remember?”

“There is this Greek dude that wrote something like you can’t swim twice in the same river or some shit like that... Things change. It can be worse. It can be better. Who knows? But it won’t be the same anyway...”

“That is less encouraging than you think...”

“It was not supposed to be. You always knew better and never needed that kind of thing...”

“Who said I didn’t? Maybe I wasn’t as strong as you guys thought...”

“You are Ellie Wheeler. You take no shit from punk heads... Your students agree with that moto.” Colt elbowed me and I chuckled.

“How do you even know that?”

“Who says I know anything?”

I wrapped my arms, pulling my coat tighter around myself.

“What if I don’t want to jump?”

“Then you don’t.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Years lying about acceptance and moving on crumple inside. It is Colt. I can’t help it. I feel. I feel so much. I am hit by feelings like the waves hitting the rocky shore. I crumple. I want to reach out. I want to know if I can have those feelings back, even if it will destroy me.

“Was that what you thought when you walked away from me?”

“I never walked away from you.”

“That’s bull and you know it.”

“I did what I had to do. Just like you.”

He tries to move away but I block his path.

“What do you mean?”

“We better not go there. You don’t live in the past, right?” he give me his back. “You need a ride?”

“I never moved on... from you.”

“Aren’t you engaged?”

I muttered a string of swearing against my fisted hand.

“I don’t know if I can do that. Any of that. I'm not like them.”

“You can.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I saw you at Langston.”

“You did? When?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

“It was some presentation. You were doing good. Great actually, like your friend said you were... when you spoke to that packed auditorium, people were just eating in your hand... You were fucking brilliant, Ellie! I was so proud of you and I knew right there and then. I just had to step away and let you go on and live your life, do all that great stuff you’re destined to. Last week, I heard Ximena bragging about your lecture at UCLA and that you’re like this big shot and people come to hear you talk about this dope drug you created... She just talks about you even if she has no idea what this shit even is about... You inspire people, El.”

“Fuck you!” I pushed him and I felt the salty of my tears reach my lips. “How dare you? How dare you decide something that important without telling me?”

“Hey! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Stay. Talk to me. Anything. Just don’t make assumptions about me!”

“I am a criminal, El. I was on the run. I shouldn’t even be there!”

“You had my number... You knew where I lived... It didn’t have to be in the middle of campus.”

“I did for you. We can’t play dream house. You can’t introduce me to your colleagues or your financiers. I probably stole shit from them.”

The tears wouldn’t stop streaming down my face now, no matter how many times I brushed them. I wanted to be angry with him and shout. But I was sad. I could rationally understand what he said and why he did it. This was the closure I was looking for, then why doesn’t it feel like an ending?

Unexpectedly, his arms pulled me against his chest, and I buried my face in his neck.

“That hurt me so much...” I sobbed against his skin, and his hand stroked my back in a soothing motion. “I hated you. I hated me.”

Despite my resistance, I was pulled even closer, his arms impossibly tight around me.

“I love you. Always did. I just couldn’t be a fucking moron and drag you with me.”

When I managed to look up at his face, he was already looking down at me.

“I want to jump.”

“Now? Have you lost it? It’s too damn dark –”

When my lips touched his, it silenced him.

Colt was right.

It was not the same.

The kiss felt familiar and strangely new at once.

As our lips glided against the other’s and when our tongues finally met, it felt like riding a bike. Even if it wasn’t like that first time, the thrill from each ride and from moving faster and faster never failed to rush my heart. Just like being in this embrace.

His hand delved into my hair and he pulled me closer like I was the air he needed to breath. I got that. I finally felt like breathing again.

I touched his neck, letting the tips of my fingers trace the tattoo, making him shiver. His lips touched my neck, retuning the courtesy and shooing every coherent thought from my brain.

The world had submerged into darkness and the moon was over our heads when we parted breathless many minutes or hours later.

Who knows and who cares?

We made no promises and said nothing we could regret.

But as he held my hand and guided me to his bike, I knew I had made my choice.

I jumped.

We both did.

#choicesprompts #choices fanfic #ride or die fanfic #rod colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc

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bullet-prooflove · 11 months

Text

Wife Number Nine: Young!Les Packer x Reader

Part of the Young!LesPacker Fallen Star Series

Companion piece to Stolen Kisses & Sheets

Tagging: @kishie8 @aaa111aaa222 @oureternalbond @kirisimpster @words-and-seeds @thump31 @thandesa91 @lifeis-tooshort @anime-weeb-4-life @genius2050

It’s past midnight when you turn up at Les’s door with a thirteen-year-old beauty queen and a Colt 44 that’s still warm to the touch.

“Molly?” he questions when his eyes land on the young girl clad in a thin white nightdress that leaves little to the imagination with a man’s denim jacket thrown over her shoulders.

The last thing he expects is to see Timber’s daughter under your care. He’s spent days putting up missing person’s posters, shaking down every low life in town and putting the fear of God into anyone who’s ever laid hands on a child. He’d never thought…

He knew the cult were fucked up, but it hadn’t even crossed his mind because she was so fucking young. He thinks of you back then, sixteen and already a bride. He realises he should have known; he knew Fallen Star are dangerous, he’s seen the scars across your skin…

“Wife number nine.” You say quietly as you set the gun down on the sideboard and gently guide Molly into his home. “They took her when she was on the way back from the library. Her backpack’s still there…”

Molly finally tilts her head up towards him, her eyes are dull and glassy. Her pupils are pinpricks drowned out by the hues of her iris, there’s no recognition in them despite the fact he’s been present in her life for a couple of years by now.

“It’s the drugs.” You explain as you settle Molly on the couch, she lays down on her side and closes her eyes as you drape the tartan blanket that his mother had given him over her lithe frame. “It’s supposed to make the first time easier…”

He can tell from the tone of your voice that it doesn’t.

The two of you move into the kitchen, you close the door over behind you, leaving a gap so that you can keep an eye on Molly.

“Did he…” Les can’t bring himself to say it.

You shake your head.

“I didn’t let it get that far.” You tell him as you lean against the kitchen counter your arms crossed over your chest. He can read you like a book; he knows what it means when you withdraw like this, he knows that if you drew up the sleeves of that white peasant blouse that he’d see the bruises. He knows why Molly remains untouched. His jaw tightens at the thought, and he wishes you had never had to make that choice.

“I need to call Timber.” He says, his hand rubbing over the back of his neck. “When he finds out where she’s been…”

You both know what’s about to happen. As soon as the MC learns about what happened, they’re going to wipe Fallen Star off the face of the earth. Anybody who was complicit in the kidnapping is going to end up buried.

“If you want to get someone out, now’s the time to do it.” He tells you as his hand rests upon avocado rotary phone.

You both know that he’s talking about your father, the man who traded you to the sixty year old man, who became your husband so that he could take his place as one of the elders. The man who’s going to beat you bloody, who’s going to kill you when he finds you’ve left the leader of Fallen Star naked and dead in the middle of his bedroom with a hole the size of your fist in his chest.

“No.” You say resolutely. “He knew what they were doing when they took her, he knew how old she was, that she was just a little girl…”

You trail off as you feel the weight of it all starting to collapse in on you, it builds up in your chest and you blink rapidly but you hold it together because this isn’t about you. This is about Molly, about making sure she stays safe, because you are sure as shit know they will try to get her back, even with Ben dead. She’ll be forced to marry the next man, bear his children, it’s a cycle that won’t ever end, not unless someone makes it.

“Do it.” You tell Les. “Make the call.”

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