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Bad love (Nisha Fanfic)

Bad love (Nisha Fanfic)

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Mar 29, 2023
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Fanfic
Well shit! Change of plans to the lore? The choir is dead Fucking dead and gone Except the afterlife isn't what everyone might have thought it would be Everything is basically the same. It all near looks the same (maybe a little de-saturated but the town has always felt like it lacked color) and everyone else is still here And none of the other people outside of the choir and Karnak are real, They're all death's interpretation of them to make the afterlife feel more "lively" Everyone outside of the choir (-Karnak) won't acknowledge the cyclone accident because this is the afterlife trying to convince them they never died so they can continue life as if it were normal (And ignore how they don't age) and be happy
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#20
ridethecyclone
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MC Romance Neil watched for too long, he figured. His club, the Lords MC in Florida became more 'outlaw' every week, and he saw no opportunity to change that direction. He never wanted to be outlaw, and now he was delivering enough to put him down for 30 years, three times a week. With his dad passing away, and his little sisters needing him around more, it was a wake-up call. Time to ride, with someone else if he found a pack worth joining, or lone wolf if not. With his status and tenure, it never occurred to him that he wouldn't be allowed to move on. When Shayla and Sydney came in as dealers a few years back instead of finishing college, their vow was a few years then out. They had a hell of a run. Parties that were legend, lovers of every sexy man type from Cuban to Norwegian and back again. But it was game time again. The years were great, but not what they wanted for their lives. Then they met Neil, and it was like seeing themselves for the first time, in stark light. He was always courteous and professional, unlike their other delivery men from the MC. He never treated them with anything except respect. In the reflection of his cobalt eyes, though, neither saw themselves worth his respect. It wasn't a shaming, more of a profound regret that a man like Neil finally showed up and they were too far into the life to say "hey, this isn't who we are." The whole "I'm not as I am" Othello play was for victims anyway, and they weren't victims. They were volunteers. But just meeting Neil slammed the door on waiting any longer to get out and back to university. Then two other dealers left the club, and turned up in trash bags, their bodies hacked up by machete.

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