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dcbbw · 9 months

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Dead in the Water (Rewrite Challenge)

This is my submission for @choicesprompts Rewrite Challenge.

Not gonna lie, when I first read about this event my first two thoughts were: “Not ANOTHER event!” quickly followed by, “As fanfic authors, all we do is rewrite.” Not to mention, I already have UnRomance, my rewrite of 9 ½ Weeks.

However, the more I thought about it, the more the idea grew on me. After all, I have plans (unfulfilled at the moment) to rewrite 16 Candles with Drake Walker as Jake Ryan, and possibly Striptease, based on the book by Carl Hiaasen and the movie starring Demi Moore, Burt Reynolds, and Ving Rhames.

So, I figured why not? Like so many others here, I initially took inspo from Grey’s Anatomy (and I still may write that story) but went with another version of dark and twisty: THIS iconic scene from How to Get Away with Murder.

Not sure I can do it justice, but gonna try. (My writing skills are rusty AF) I could have just rewritten the actual scene but wanted to provide readers with context/background while staying faithful (somewhat) to at least one of the show’s many Season 1 storylines.

So.Many.Thank yous to those who read this over in parts and pieces. Your encouragement and excitement over this story truly pushed me to finish it. To those who will read this, THANK YOU! Your reads, likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you will ever know.

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this story as 99% error free.

Story contains a couple of OCs, and my (and possibly Shonda Rhimes’) version of PB characters.

Song Inspo: Human, Rag n Bone

Word Count: 2,500

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Rating: M for Mature themes

Two weeks ago

The car drove silently through the empty streets of the duchy, streetlights occasionally and briefly illuminating the planes and angles of the driver’s face, and the knuckles of their hand on the steering wheel.

No one saw either.

The car entered the Warehouse District where the streetlamps were fewer, the buildings boxier, and the potholes were plentiful. The driver’s eyes squinted as they took a sharp turn into a narrow, dead-end alleyway, coming to a stop in front of a dumpster. They pulled a ski mask over their face and tugged a pair of leather gloves that had been laying in the passenger seat onto their hands before quietly exiting and retrieving the plastic-wrapped bundle from the back seat, hoisting it over their shoulder.

The figure was dressed completely in black: soft-soled shoes, shirt, pants, gloves, balaclava. They traipsed easily up the ladder that led to a building’s rooftop despite the plastic bag slung over one shoulder. The person was certain they hadn’t been seen or followed but surveyed the still-abandoned streets of the sleeping city below before heading towards the water tower.

With a grunt, they carefully shifted the heavy package to their other shoulder; it was literally dead weight. Their head tilted upwards, staring at the ladder that led to the tower’s catwalk. With a heavy sigh, they lightly trudged the few remaining steps to the steel staircase and began the long climb to the top of the water tank. The person maneuvered more slowly this time; one misstep and there would be two bodies found.

The goal … the hope was no body be found.

Their breathing grew heavier and was an outright pant once they reached the catwalk. They carefully placed the bag down before gloved hands began unwrapping and unrolling the plastic away from the body. As the dead woman was revealed, the person’s eyes raked over the body impersonally.

Her once shapely body was swollen with putrid gases; fortunately, the mentholatum gel the person had spread beneath their nostrils earlier in the evening prevented them from smelling anything foul.

Her flawless skin was mottled and bruised from long-settled blood. Lipstick still stained her lips, which were twisted in a grimace. From the struggle that ended in her death, or the fact that she was nobility wrapped in cheap plastic and tarp, no one would ever know. Her uncombed tresses had bald spots from postmortem hair loss and appeared to be the texture of straw. Her bare breasts were flaccid, nipples pointed downward.

Her feet were grotesquely misshapen from the bloat.

Reluctantly, their eyes pulled themselves away from the subject of a national manhunt and focused on the door; a combination lock kept the door sealed. Their hands went to the tool bag hanging from their leather belt, fingers extracting a pair of 12” bolt cutters. Eyes narrowed in concentration, they neatly cut the lock off before pushing the door fully open

Scooping the dead woman from the catwalk, and cradling the body next to their chest, the person entered the facility; it was pitch-dark and filled with the humming of pipes and pumps regulating the flow of water throughout not one, but two duchies. Operating by feel, the person came to a stop when they bumped the guardrail. With another grunt, they outstretched their arms and heaved the body downward into the tank of water that encircled the room from guardrail to floor.

There was a loud splash, then nothing. The person stood for a few moments more, thinking they should say a prayer for the dead or themselves, but they left without a word for either of them. Outside, they pulled the door shut, gathered the broken lock and sullied plastic, and made their way back down to the street.

At the dumpster, the person stuffed the plastic bag, the broken lock, the face covering, and the gloves inside. As they strode towards the car, they fished a cellphone from their shirt pocket and quickly dialed a number.

The call was picked up, but there was no greeting.

They didn’t expect one.

“It’s done,” they said tersely before hanging up, and climbing into the vehicle.

Present Day

Agata Laskaris and Elias Drakos were ex-lovers who both worked for the Cordonian Ministry of Environmental Health; on this afternoon they were partnered to inspect water towers throughout the Duchy of Krona. It hadn't been too horrible of a workday: The inspections had been cursory at best, and the pair had always worked well together. It helped that their breakup hadn’t been contentious.

Agata had (thankfully) come to the discovery that she was a lesbian. Elais didn’t blame her for her sexuality, nor did he feel he had been led on. What did sting, however, was Agata thanking him for helping her to realize that fact after their third romp.

Immediately after.

She really didn’t know how to let a guy down easy.

“What are your thoughts on the missing noble lady?” Agata asked as they crossed the rooftop, headed for the water tower’s ladder.

“It’s been a month. She’s either dead or run off somewhere. Probably never got over social season … to be considered the front runner and then tossed over for another? I’d been on the first thing smoking out of here.”

‘You would,” Agata teased as she began climbing the ladder. “Don’t look at my ass!”

“Your ass is looking at me,” Elias retorted.

At the catwalk, they both stared in puzzlement at the shut door missing its padlock.

“Who cut the fucking lock?” Elias grumbled.

“Probably teenagers. You know they like to climb the towers and lay on the catwalk on clear nights,” Agata offered dismissively. “It isn’t the first time this has happened and won’t be the last until we get the control panels installed. Now, come on! It’s our last tower of the day; let’s get the water readings and go grab a beer.”

Elias nodded, and entered the tank first, his ex close behind him. His fingers found the light switch easily, and they both blinked as bright fluorescent lighting filled the metal enclosure. Agata’s nose wrinkled at a faint stench, seemingly wafting from the water.

“Something’s off,” she remarked as she walked towards the opposite wall where digital thermometers and computer panels flashed numbers and temperatures.

“Aggie,” Elias rasped, his voice filled with dread.

Agata looked over her shoulder, slightly irritated. She really wanted that beer. “What’s wrong?”

Elias, his face pale, pointed his index finger towards the vast pool of water below, where a body clad only in red panties bobbed. “We’ve found the missing aristocrat.”

The Capital

The Queen sat on the side of her marital bed as she slowly hung up the antique French telephone, taking care to quietly place the receiver back into the cradle. Her French-manicured fingertips plucked at the lacy fringe hanging from the bed’s duvet, while her eyes studied the egret-colored Louis XV Savonnerie carpet beneath her bare feet.

The Queen was enamored with all things French, her favorites being wine, kisses, and perfume. Her husband provided with two of the three; his kisses were reserved for someone else … anyone else, other than his wife.

The King would beg to differ.

The monarch’s brow creased as she processed the telephone call:

She felt relief that the hussy had been found; she and the King had presented a united front regarding the disappearance, insisting the King’s Guard take lead in the investigation and closely collaborate with the Cordonian Ministry of Criminal Investigation and Public Safety.

The Queen hadn’t wished death upon the noblewoman, but this outcome at least guaranteed the two would never meet again on an earthly plane. And that was something to praise the Lord for.

But among the relief, there was trepidation; she now had to confront her husband.

One month ago, Bastien Lykel, Head of the King’s Guard, stood before his Queen offering her a plain cardboard box filled with items from the missing noblewoman’s bedchambers that would hopefully yield clues as to her whereabouts.

“Set it on my desk,” Her Majesty directed in a snappish tone as she plucked yellowed leaves from a floor plant sat in a far corner of her formal study. Her heels sank silently into the plush rug as she made her way to the wastebasket before turning to face the guard. “And not one word to the King. Do we have an understanding, Mr. Lykel?”

The sentry took in the Queen’s haughty expression and slightly arched eyebrow, then nodded. “We do.”

A satisfied smirk curled her lip. “Excellent.”

The Queen watched the door close behind Bastien, then made her way to the bar cart to pour herself a full glass of wine before seating herself at the bureau to sort through the box’s contents.

A red bikini top which smelled of chlorine. Obviously, the woman had gone swimming in her estate’s Olympic-sized indoor pool sometime between her last public appearance and her disappearance.

But where was the bikini bottom?

A day planner; the Queen idly thumbed through its pages, noticing that some days and dates were marked with actual events and appointments, while others merely had locations such as “coffeeshop” or duchy names scribbled across them.

Two positive pregnancy tests. The Queen stared at them dumbfounded while slowly sipping the rich merlot, her mind churning. Her hand absently drifted down to her belly, her fingertips trailing across her midsection. She and the King had been trying for a child, but all they had to show for it so far was a miscarriage.

She set her wine glass down a bit more harshly than intended before scrabbling her hands through the box, pushing aside parking citations, the woman’s wallet, and pieces of valuable jewelry as she searched for electronic devices.

But there was no tablet, no laptop.

Why? Where were they?

However, there was a cellphone that the guards had unlocked. The Queen snatched it up, her fingernails tapping furiously against the screen. Her heart was heavy and her breath ragged as she pulled up text messages. The noblewoman had been smart. Nothing incriminating there.

The Queen wracked her brain figuring out where else she could get confirmation of her suspicions, and then it hit her. The photo gallery.

It was filled with selfies of the missing noblewoman, her expressions varied: bright smiles, sultry looks, with and without makeup. Her locations varied as well: galas, gardens, the Eiffel Tower, New York City.

The Queen impatiently scrolled through photos of the noblewoman with members of court in both public and private settings until one picture made her stop. Her eyes widened before thinning in anger and resignation.

The Queen had always thought but had never known.

Until now.

She carefully set the phone upon the desktop, then picked up her wineglass.

Her maid came running when she heard the glass shatter against a wall.

The Queen sighed heavily before rising from the bed. It had been a long day, and even longer month. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned her silk bouse, slipping it down over her shoulders and arms; her hands reached behind her to unzip her pencil skirt. The fabric whispered against the carpeting as it fell. Clad only in bra and panties, the monarch pushed her feet into plush slippers, and made her way to her vanity.

Seated in a straight back chair, she stared at her reflection in the mirror; the Queen’s face stared back at her. Flawless hair and makeup. Stately jewelry. Pursing her lips, she began removing her jewelry piece by piece: pearl earrings, pearl necklace, diamond-encrusted gold bracelet. She broke her gaze from the mirror to stare at her wedding ring, her fingers tugging and pulling at the circular metal.

She and her husband had a union, not a marriage. Had it ever been anything else?

The Queen stopped fiddling with the ring; it would remain on her finger. Her gaze caught sight of her elaborate, upswept hairstyle; her hand curled around the edge of her hairline as she snatched the wig off in one fell swoop. Beneath, her natural hair was short and curly with some frizz at the ends.

She closed her eyes, her fingers removing the false eyelashes by rote. The Queen tossed them gingerly into the nearby trashcan; they resembled hairy spider legs to her. She then reached for wipes to remove her makeup; she scrubbed lightly at first, then harder as rouge and foundation painted and stained the damp cloths.

Beneath the painted veneer she presented to the world as Queen of Cordonia, was a black woman named Riley Brooks. A former waitress from Brooklyn, NY. She had enough intelligence and personality to get Cordonian to accept her, but still the country hadn’t done so fully.

She was American, which meant foreign.

Even though Liam was Asian, he was only half-Korean and was never referred to as Queen Eleanor’s son. No, Liam was always the King’s son. The white King’s son.

No one but Liam knew what lay beneath her artificial beauty: the pockmarks, the scars, the dark bags beneath her eyes. How dark her skin truly was.

That was trust, right? And trust was a form of love, right?

Riley was staring at her naked face when the door to the bedchambers opened and Liam strode in, heading directly towards her. When he reached Riley’s side, he leaned in to give her a lingering kiss on her cheek.

It wasn’t an insincere gesture, but definitely more routine than romantic.

“I just heard the Countess’ body was found today, in a water tower of all places,” he said as he straightened up to shrug off his suit jacket.

No response from Riley, who was moisturizing her face and neck.

“The Palace will release a statement this evening saying that a criminal investigation will be launched at the highest priority. Of course, we’ll go visit Godfrey and Adelaide first thing in the morning.”

“Of course. Madeleine was a valued member of this Court,” Riley replied dully as she resumed staring at her reflection.

The King threw her a brief glance, puzzlement in his expression. “You’re quiet this evening. Are things well with you?”

Riley’s fingers were pulling open one of the vanity’s drawers.; her hand curled around the cellphone.

“Liam?”

He adjusted his jacket on a hanger before turning to fully face his wife. “Yes, love?”

Riley pulled out the phone, already open to a picture, and held it out so Liam could see it. The photo was a dick pic, and not a selfie that had been sent. No, this picture was taken at eye level, up close and personal. Every detail was visible: the bulging vein along its underside, the curve to the left, the hand fisted at its base with the signet ring on the right ring finger.

Maintaining eye contact with her husband, the Queen asked in a steady voice that belied the sinking in her stomach, “Why is your penis on a dead woman’s phone?”

Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations

#dcbbw writes #rewrite challenge #trr au #htgawm au #writer on tumblr

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wh0re-behavi0r · 2 months

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4! 👀

HEYYYY !

so a htgawm 118 au

i'm not sure who they'd all murder together yet but i do know the murder would happen at bobby and athena's house

it starts off with just Bobby, Buck, Chimney, Eddie, and Hen

eventually they tell their partners and ofc there's an investigation and they try to come up with a good cover story and move on with their lives.

they'd use a fire or something to help cover up the incident.

ask me about my wips

#htgawm au #krista #thanks!!!!#asks

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thenicestthingiveseen · 4 months

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🌹 🌹

#it's happening it's happening it's happening #htgawm au #displayheartcode

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frankchurchillsaysrelax · 9 months

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htgawm au • bmw cast • 90’s and present

#my edits #this has been in my drafts for a while #from the htgawm au that never was #cory matthews #topanga lawrence #shawn hunter #angela moore #eric matthews #jack hunter #morgan matthews #htgawm au #gmw #bmw

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franks-law · 1 year

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On second thought.

Hey y'all I was setting in my very quiet apartment this rainy morning around 3 a.m. looking at my very beautiful fake fireplace LoL. I was listening to my rainy night soundtrack which is a billion times better that what I was trying to do here in 2020, please accept my apologies. I thought wow damn I miss Frank & Laurel, I wonder if anyone has ever written anything new? So I cracked open Tumblr and I found the most beautiful thing I had read in years. Here it is and to all the people who stayed here even though I'm the biggest slacker in the world right now, thank you and please forgive me for giving up. Oh you may see old post redone, repurposed, and just plain old deletes LoL. I LOVE ALL OF YOU!!!!!!! If anyone has ideas, dreams, concepts, let's talk, chat, write, and dream. AGAIN THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE ALL OF Y'ALL!!!!!!!!!!!

#htgawm au #flaurel #frank x laurel #frank delfino #laurel castillo

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dreamersbcll · 2 months

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decided to try something a little new. lawyer sam x defendant tara, anyone?

how to get away with murder x scream

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #ao3 author #just talkin #htgawm x scream #new au!!

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dollriki · 1 year

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HOW TO GET AWAY WITH ⠀⠀MURDER (amongst other things)

masterlist playlist next

— CH 1. The Night we Met

WARNINGS 🩸 mentions or murder and blood

Truth be told, you'd never murdered someone before.

It wasn't exactly a common hobby for people.

You always thought it wouldn't be that bad to see a dead body, you never knew what the fuss was about. You've watched plenty of horror movies, binged many crime documentaries. Surely they just look like they're sleeping? That's what it seemed on the TV anyway.

But standing here now, looking down at the dead body on your bedroom floor, you were starting to realise the overreactions.

There was blood everywhere. Pooling on your carpet, trailing down the bedpost, staining your new beige sheets. All over your fucking shirt.

The boy was laying completely still on the floor, and you didn't need to check his pulse to know he was dead. You'd heard the crack when he went head first into the bedpost. Fuck, the whole street could've heard it for all you knew.

Your heart was beating in your ears, breath completely sucked out of your body and all you could do was stare as blood slowly expanded around his head, painting his blonde hair red. If anyone were to walk in now, they probably would've thought you'd had a heart attack standing up. You couldn't move, even when blood dripped from your forehead to your cheek.

There was a dead body in your room.

You had to get out. You had to hide, run, fuck maybe you should just confess. People who plead guilty get lower sentences don't they? Your head hurt, you felt sick. But you turned to the boy standing next to you with a calm face. "What the fuck do we do?"

Wide eyed, the boy looked back at you with the most fear you'd ever seen be portrayed in a person. He was speechless, trying to get some sorts of words out however nothing but a stuttering load of bullshit came out and you realised just how fucked you actually were.

You'd known Riki for a week at most and you'd just committed murder in your bedroom with him for the first time. No. He had committed murder. You were a witness. That did nothing to stop said murder from happening.

Riki was good at a lot of things. He could play guitar, he could hotwire a car, and he could dance. What he couldn't do was make rational decisions when it was much needed. He never thought his inability to decide would lead to him standing over a bleeding out body with the bloody murder weapon in his right hand. He hadn't exactly made a sound when he'd gone out cold in the middle of the room, but the fact that he had yet to open his eyes and get up made Riki think he was in fact, standing over a dead body. That he'd just killed. With his own hands.

You were both frozen still. The record player looping The Ronettes' 'Be My Baby' seemed a lot more sinister the more you came to your senses and you rushed over to turn it off before you fell into a loop of madness yourself. Breathing out heavily, you made your way back over to Riki, glancing down at your blood soaked shirt and then at Riki. You frowned. There wasn't any blood on him at all, despite on his hands and partly on his face. He felt your stare and turned to you, the same scared expression on his face that he'd been pulling for the last five minutes.

He did, finally open his mouth to speak though, "Have you ever killed–"

"No."

"Okay."

You were so fucked.

"They're gonna know it was me." You said, chewing on your bottom lip. Riki looked at you full of confusion, bloody lamp still in his right hand, "It literally wasn't you-"

"It's in my house. In my bedroom. My ex boyfriend!" You were panicking, clearly, so Riki kept any snarky remarks to himself. You didn't know each other all that well, but you understood each other more than you would think. So Riki put the lamp down on the desk he'd taken it from and turned to you, "We need to get out of here."

🩸

Four days ago.

⠀

You're a very hateful person.

The world is a horrible place and you have horrible people in your life, what can you say?

Thinking about it, you can't remember the last time you actually felt anything but numb. Maybe when you got your first dog. That was nice. But you were nine at the time. You're seventeen now. Shit. Maybe it was your irrational thinking that made you so angry and hateful. Or maybe it was just the fact you've had a very shitty life so far.

Your friends were only one part of your very shitty life. Staring at the girl across the cafeteria table, you watched as she giggled at the messages rolling through her notifications. She seemed to read one that caught her eye as she switched her phone off and turned to the other girls sitting around the table, "What are you guys wearing tonight?"

You frowned, "Tonight? What's happening tonight?"

The question seemed to bring everyone to a halt, four pairs of eyes glancing everywhere but you. Eyebrows furrowing, you blinked at Chaein from across the table.

"Um…" She bit her lip gently, eyes scanning over the other girls in some sort of plea. When nobody dared to look at her, she sighed, "Um well. We're having a party. It was just the five of us but I guess-"

"What the fuck?" You loudly announced, shutting Chaein up instantly. She pursed her lips, head bowing and you sighed. Grabbing your backpack from in between your legs, you stood up and swung it over your shoulder before grabbing your lunch tray and sliding it hard across the table. It hit Chaein's tray hard, her food going all over her lap and her scream caught the attention of pretty much everyone. "Fuck you." You flipped the table off before turning on your heel and walking.

Maybe that was a bit of an overreaction. But those girls were never your friends to begin with, so they kind of deserved it.

In reality, you had nowhere to go. You could've gone to the bathroom, or to class early, or you could've just left. But the boy staring at you as you walked towards him seemed like the most interesting way to spend the rest of your lunch.

⠀

"Can I sit here?"

The boy looked up as if he hadn't watched you literally walk all the way towards him. A flash of confusion brushed across the entirety of his face. "Um," he looked to his right where you had motioned to sit, "Okay."

You didn't wait for him to move his bag and food off of the wall before you sat down next to him, kicking your feet as you glared straight ahead at the table of girls you'd just dropped. What the fuck am I doing?

"What was all that about?" The boy asked, snapping you out of your heated glaring competition with the back of Chaein's head. You actually looked at the boy now. His hair was dark, it could've been black but it looked brown when the light hit it. It was parted down the middle, framing just around his eyes and it was on the longer side. It looked soft and bouncy and you'd never seen a boy with such nice hair in your school before (the place wasn't exactly heaven). He turned to you when you didn't answer him and you took note that his eyes looked softer close up. They were also brown. He was pretty, you decided. Very pretty.

"It was nothing." You replied, and he pouted a little and you assumed it was his way of letting the conversation go, because he didn't push on the subject any further.

Silence cast over the both of you and you suddenly felt a wave crash over you. The thing about you was that you couldn't sit in silence. Silence made you think and you hated thinking.

So you started talking.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Jesus Christ of course he's going to eat it, it's in his fucking lap.

The boy looked down at the half eaten sandwich and bag of crisps in his lap, and then looked at you. He then sighed, holding up the other half of his sandwich without saying a word.

You blinked at it, not actually expecting him to oblige in your offer, but nonetheless you took it out of his awaiting hands, "Thanks."

He smiled a little, probably out of politeness, but it was nice of him either way.

"I'm Y/N, by the way."

He knew that.

"Riki."

You knew that, too.

Riki was new. You didn't know much about him other than that. He seemed quiet. And lonely. And he didn't speak like... at all. You didn't like quiet people, but for some reason you didn't mind talking to him. He was an interesting kind of quiet. Like the type of quiet that had a lot to hide. And you wanted to find out what it was.

You were practically the opposite of him. You were loud. You didn't stop talking. But you were kind of lonely, you'd cut him some slack with that one. It's not like you chose to have no close friends, you just hadn't found someone who could understand you. Plus you'd just walked out on your only friends not even ten minutes ago.

"Do you want to go out with me?"

Riki knitted his brows at you, "What?"

You shrugged, kicking your legs out in front of you and taking a bite of the sandwich in your hand, "I dunno. Like, do you wanna do something after school?"

"Oh. Okay."

A small smile tugged at your lips at how Riki seemed to go along so perfectly with your irrational decisions. Then again, he could just be being nice. "What do you like doing?" You asked.

"Um. I can play the guitar, I guess."

"No way!" You turned shiny eyed to him, "Show me."

The boy looked equally as bright eyed at your enthusiasm when he faced you but he quickly looked down, "I mean, uh. It's at my house."

"Let's go to your house then. After school."

Riki seemed to think for a second, slightly hesitant and you thought you'd already crossed a million of his boundaries. But he replied with, "Okay." and you let out a small sigh of relief.

Sitting on the school cafeteria wall with the boy you'd had one conversation with, you decided at that moment that you weren't going to let him go. No matter what may happen.

And oh, did a lot happen.

🩸

Riki didn't have a very eventful life. It had been a month or so since he'd moved from Japan and settling in hadn't taken much time. Mainly because he kept his head down and didn't talk to anyone. He wasn't much of a talker, he didn't have much to say. The most interesting thing about him was probably that he lived with his grandma because he was abandoned at a young age. But that's not a very good starting topic of conversation. So Riki just doesn't talk.

It's not that Riki hated his life or anything. Yeah, he'd rather his parents have not up and left him but there's nothing he can do about it now. That was twelve years ago anyway, he's not the type to hold grudges for that long. He was more upset that he had to spend almost seventeen years of his life with the bitch that calls herself his grandmother.

He wasn't going to get into it though, he was just going to hope she wasn't there when you got to his house.

"Why does your house have no fucking windows?" You stared at the house in front of you, the bottom windows basically all bordered up, and the top left's curtains tightly closed.

"My grandma is an anxious person." Riki muttered, fiddling around with his keys to find the right one for the front door. You looked back up at the top floor windows and assumed the room to the right was Riki's because the curtains and windows were wide open.

You wandered into Riki's house as soon as he opened the door, not taking your shoes off because you figured Riki would've told you if it was a problem. His house was cute (if that's even a word you can use to describe a home), a bit outdated and old, but cute nonetheless. It wasn't too big inside so it was warm and cosy which felt weird considering your house was nothing like that. You tilted your head at the vanity desk by the door, picking up one of the framed photos. You assumed it was Riki and his grandma in the photo and you found yourself giggling at it, "You look funny in this-"

"Do you not take your shoes off when you visit people's houses?" Quickly, you put the photo back on the desk like you'd just been caught stealing it. The old woman that had appeared in the doorway to the kitchen showed no emotion on her face when she glowered at you.

Riki sighed. Fuck.

"Sorry." You mumbled, slightly rolling your eyes and glancing at Riki who looked kind of angry for someone who hadn't been anything but calm since you met him.

"I forgot to tell her. It's my fault." Creasing your brow, you looked up at the boy from where you were unfastening your boots, wondering why he was sticking up for you for something so.. unnecessary. The woman did seem kind of intimidating though, so you were grateful.

Once you'd taken your boots off, placing them next to Riki's shoes on the mat, you stood up next to him so you were both facing the woman still taking up the space between the hallway and kitchen. She still had the same stoic expression on her face and she didn't seem to take her eyes off of you. It was almost like she was scanning you to see if you were fit to be here. It was weird.

"Uh, well. I'm Y/N!" Breaking the silence, you smiled (for politeness, of course. If you could smile genuinely at anyone less, it would be this woman), hooking your arm around Riki's and nudging him as a silent plea to get you away from his grandmother's evil stare.

"Yeah," Riki seemed to get the hint, "We're going to my room."

And without waiting for a response, Riki pulled you up the stairs.

⠀

"Do you have, like, beef with your grandma or something?" You asked as soon as the door closed behind you, not looking at Riki when you spoke, eyeing up his room.

The boy wasn't paying much attention, trying to find somewhere to throw his backpack, "Huh? No, why?"

You threw him a look that was supposed to say 'I just watched you have a glaring contest with her from across the room' but you guess he didn't notice. "Doesn't matter."

You took your time looking around his room. It wasn't small or big, it was just kind of a normal size. His bed was right next to the window (probably because his grandma was a fucking weirdo and made him hibernate whenever he wanted to eat lunch downstairs) and he had a cabinet next to it with a desk opposite which was scattered with all sorts of things that you didn't really give a shit about. It was a bit messy but he wasn't expecting guests so you didn't comment on it. You also noted that his carpet was blue, as well as his curtains and bedsheets. "Is your favourite colour blue?"

Riki took one look around the room and let out an embarrassed laugh, "I think so." He leant against his desk as you continued to inspect his room like some house estate agent. It was the first time in hours that you weren't filling in the silence for the both of you. He didn't mind that you liked to keep the conversation going; he appreciated it actually, because he was better at listening than talking. You were a fiery person, Riki noticed, not that it was necessarily a bad thing but it was definitely new to him. You were confident, and he liked that because it meant at least one of you were. Because you weren't glaring like you had been most of the day, Riki noted your eyes almost the exact same colour as his. You'd had your hair tied up at school but as soon as you'd both left the gates, you'd pulled it down and Riki was now just noticing it fell just below your shoulders, and there were slight streaks of blonde blended into the brown that he hadn't seen before. It suited you, it suited your vibe. It was pretty. What the fuck was he talking about?

"You can take your bag off, by the way." Riki said, trying to distract himself and grabbing your attention. You looked at him slightly startled, but obliged anyway, letting your backpack fall off your shoulders and you put it by the side of his cabinets.

"Where's your guitar?" You wondered, peering around the room to see if you could find it amongst the rest of Riki's shit.

The boy perked up at the mention of his guitar, instantly pushing himself off his desk and rushing to his wardrobe. You sat down on his bed as he scrambled through his closet before pulling out a dark brown guitar that he seemed to light up at once he pulled it to his chest. Cute.

"Do you take requests or..?" You leaned back and moved up to make space for Riki to sit down next to you.

"I don't know a lot," He looked sheepish, looking down as he tuned his guitar, "But you might know this one!"

⠀

You did know it.

It was one of your favourite songs, actually, and from the first note he played, you were entranced. You could almost hear the lyrics through the strings he was playing. He didn't seem nervous, however he was a bit unsure of what notes to play, but it was still beautiful.

Riki was beautiful. And extremely talented. It's been a day Y/N, get over yourself. So maybe your irrational decision to sit with him was one of the best ones you'd ever made.

You couldn't help but focus on his face as he concentrated. He was looking down at the guitar as he played and his lips pouted a little when he messed up. They were… pretty. He puffed them out when he focused on the strings of the guitar and they looked so full and soft and cute when he pouted. Fuck. You felt your heart jump when he smiled down at the guitar a little when he got into the rhythm and suddenly you were back in your own body again. You looked away wide eyed when you realised where you were and what you were doing, the sound of Riki's guitar suddenly sounding haunting. He continued to play 'Where is my Mind?', lost in his own little world and you sat next to him in thought.

Because maybe Riki was the escape you needed out of your very shitty life.

SYNOPSIS! trying to find a way to escape your shitty life, you decide to indulge in the new boy at school. what you didn't realise, is that you'd be on the run from murder with him a week later.

freya's notes omgg HELLO!! first update wowow this is exciting. i don't rlly know what to say, i just hope you all enjoy this as much as i like writing it!!! <333

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pariskim · 2 months

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me getting into any show voice Hmmm what if it was star trek.

#^ imagining a beautiful htgawm au

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perceives · 1 year

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jsyk laura is available to hang out with your muse to inspire them, with her existence, to use birth control

#talking to syd about the cheers au universe that combines cheers/peaks/htgawm and it is really just her entire role. why is she there.#they all know her ID is fake she isn't even pretending. she isn't even trying to get them to serve her anymore. she just won't go away

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chmydarling · 11 months

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y'all.. 👀

bonus:

it marlon and lou in a mod au

#what do we think? do any of u see it??#i've been toyin w the idea of finding lou an irl fc for a while #but of course i've been overthinkin every one of my options #bc that boy is too damn perfect to capture his likeness outside of the game #but for some reason the lovely alfie e from htgawm and many things besides popped into my head today #and i think i might just be able to see it..#esp around the eyes and the eyebrows #and his height and v endearing dorkiness #i don't think i'd be using a fc much for lou #99% of my icons will prob be screencaps from in game #but i just think it might be neat maybe for aus + threads w ppl who use irl fcs? 🤔#sdfksjg i dunno lemme kno what u think!!#[ ooc. ]#[ tbd. ]

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writeformesinpie · 1 year

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Colour Blind

Katie Findlay x OC

Summary - The world is bleak and grey until you meet your soulmate. Life has no taste and Nel is starting to lose her faith in ever finding her soulmate when a stunning woman walks through the door of her favourite diner.

Genre - Soulmate AU/Fluff

Warnings - None.

Word Count - 1.5k

A/N - This is a commission for @lemoncakelynx11 !! Thank you beautiful and I hope you like it!!! <3

The world is flat. Not literally, of course, but it has no flavour. There’s nothing but endless shades of grey.

Everyone says ‘the whole world will open up once you’ve met your mate.’ The one. Once you meet the right person they will twist the world, tightening the screws until there’s no way to undo what they’ve done.

Nel wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to meet her soulmate, just that she was starting to lose hope that they even existed. Something might have gone wrong, maybe the powers that be had forgotten to assign her a mate, or worse, something horrible had already befallen her mate.

Inhaling deeply, Nel pulled the large jacket around her shoulders and pushed the negative thoughts to the back of her mind, instead watching the air turn lighter for a moment as she exhaled. Looking up at the old sign above the small, tucked away diner she couldn’t help but smile. There’s nothing like a midwestern diner.

Walking inside the smell of french fries and dark toast hits her like a drug – the sweetest scent on earth. Waving at the cook, she makes her way to one of the booths along the back wall, nodding as Olivia, one of the waitresses, asks her if she wants the usual. It’s old school. They even have matchbooks at the front door. With retro wood panelling, original reupholstered seats and a coin operated jukebox constantly crooning out a country tune.

There’s nothing quite like a midwestern diner. Anyone who comes to Charlotte's knows that well. People from all walks of life tend to end up here, getting turned around on the highway, coming due to word of mouth, or just a plain old regular like Nel. No matter who they are, they all get the same treatment: top tier hospitality. Everyone leaves full. Forget your worries because here you’re family, you're home.

Olivia swings open the door connecting the kitchen with the dining area with her hip as she brings Nel’s order (chicken strips and a vanilla shake with extra whipped cream, no cherry) to the table. She sits for a moment and they exchange idle chit chat before she has to rush back to the kitchen when the cook hollers. The previous chef moved after her husband landed some flashy new job opportunity on the east coast. This new one is still green around the edges, young and inexperienced but a fast learner.

The atmosphere is hypnotic. The soft murmurs barely heard over the jukebox as everyone enjoys the best food in the state. Today it’s mostly regulars. There’s one person Nel hasn't seen before paying for their meal, but everyone else is a familiar face, mostly families and a random single here and there.

As the stranger walks towards the door it flings open, crashing against the wall with a loud bang. All eyes turn towards the commotion as an icy cold breeze circles the room and three girls step inside the diner.

“Sorry!” one of the girls says, pink dusting her cheeks as she bows her head.

“That’s fine,” the stranger says, stepping aside for the girls. “Enjoy.”

“Careful out there. It’s really picking up…” the second girl continues but Nel doesn’t hear what else she says once her eyes land on the third girl. There’s a ringing sound tickling Nel’s brain as the last girl frowns slightly, tilting her head before she turns to look back at Nel. Nel wonders if they’re mirroring each other as the heavenly creature before her stands awestruck.

“What is it, Katie?” one of the girls asks. Nel can’t be quite sure which one since she feels unable to pull her gaze from this celestial being before her. It seems Katie feels the same, waving off her friends as she walks towards Nel, their eyes intent on each other. Even with the bewilderment in her eyes making her appear like a deer stuck in headlights, she oozes warmth.

“You,” Katie whispers, as she sits across from Nel. “Do you see it too?”

Nel frowns before her eyes widen. How had she missed it? The shades of grey are changing, everything in the diner is slowly starting to brighten and morph into something new. Colours. Nel doesn’t know all their names since she hasn’t seen them yet but they are starting to spread out across the room, painting the scene in ways she didn’t know existed.

“It’s so beautiful,” Nel says, a smile on her lips as she looks down at the melting malt inside the sparkling glass. The colour is intensely fascinating.

“You’re beautiful.” Katie grabs Nel's hand in hers and with the simple action the whole room lights up, dazzling and warm. Katie’s smile is infectious. “I always thought it was bullshit. I thought it was just something people said to make us feel bad for being alone.”

“Me too.”

“I feel like I could fly to the moon right now!” She laughs, shaking her head, her large eyes wandering across Nel’s face with intense scrutiny. “I feel like I’m on cloud nine. There’s finally meaning in the world. Like everything is finally going to be okay.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Nel says, taking a deep breath to calm her beating heart. It’s all so much. Every emotion within her is running on overdrive, as if the whole world and everything that ever existed inside of it wants her attention all at once. It’s overwhelming, yet with Katie by her side she feels as if she can take on the universe. There’s no problem she can’t face.

“I used to joke that the nearest stars excluding the sun are about 4 light years away from earth so if you miss the moon you won’t land anywhere. Which is true, but I used to think you would just float aimlessly in space until you die.” Katie looks away for a moment, her eternal eyes glossing over for a moment before she turns back to Nel. “But now I realise, even if I float aimlessly in space, it wouldn’t be so bad. Not if I have you by my side.”

“I can do anything if I have you with me. That’s how I feel, too. It’s scary–”

“So scary, right?”

“Yeah, but I feel like a blanket of sun is covering my shoulders. I know for certain that I can suffer through anything as long as we’re together.”

“Exactly! I feel like a superhero,” she exclaims, jumping up into a Wonder Woman pose. Nel laughs and Katie slides back into the booth, leaning in close. “I feel possessive. I am ready to defend you and I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, right,” Nel says with a chuckle. “It’s Nel. Rhymes with Mel.”

“Nel? What a cute name! I love it. I’m Katie. You can call me Katie, or Kate or Kitty.”

“Nice to meet you, Katie. I’m so glad I met you.”

“I know, right? I’ve only been waiting my entire life,” she jokes, grabbing one of Nel’s chicken strips. “Do you mind? I’m starving.”

“Of course not, go ahead,” Nel says, pushing the plate towards her. “Eat as much as you want. This place has the best strips I’ve ever tasted.”

“Wow,” she says, her mouth half-full, her eyes closed with a look of pure joy across her face. “I don’t know if it's the strips or the company but this is by far the best meal I’ve had in my entire life.”

“I’m glad,” Nel says, sipping on her shake. Olivia comes over and asks if there is anything else the girls need. After ordering more strips she disappears back behind the counter. “So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what do we do now?”

“Hmm.” Katie taps the side of her jaw as she looks off to the side before turning back to Nel with a straight face. “I think we just take it one day at a time. We have our whole lives to get to know each other. There’s no need to rush anything.”

Nel nods with a smile as the front door flings open again, banging against the wall. The girls look over as a tall man walks into the diner almost hitting his head on the doorframe. He looks around the room with a bashful grin and apologises as he hurries inside, pulling the door closed behind him. The girls look back towards each other and giggle.

“How about that wind, am I right?” Katie says with a wide grin. “I can’t wait to show you all the things I love, but more than that, I can’t wait to discover everything you love. I can’t wait to unearth everything that makes you, well you, Nel.”

#katie findlay #htgawm #straight up #writing commissions #katie findlay x oc #katie findlay fluff #soulmate au #asexual characters

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