#ww1 au when

[cheeseknives]

Oh yeah Hammond would make an excellent tank man

[artgroves]

Steve Rogers Learns to Fly by @gutterandthestars

[essenceofarda]

ngl i'm kinda blown away by the response on my Farawyn 1920's au mini comic 😅

Kinda makes me wanna turn it into an actual multi-chapter fic 🤔

Anyone interested in reading it if i do??

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Mine Eyes Dazzle update: I would like a time machine so I could warn past me. Or possibly slap past me for giving me all this extra work 🙃

[enough-spider-noir-stuff]

APPARENTLY FILM NOIR IS ALSO FROM 1933 AND NOT SOME TIME IN THE 40s THIS IS DESTROYING EVERYTHING UGH

[cowboylexapro]

au where neil actually does go to military school and todd sends him letters like a woman sending letters to her soldier husband in WW1, and neil sends letters like todds his childhood pen pal.

𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝒾𝓁,

𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓁 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒? 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝑔. 𝒾 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒾 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓃𝑒𝒸𝓀, 𝒾 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝓇𝒶𝓂𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇.

𝒾 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓁𝑜𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔.

𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 “𝓉𝑜𝒹𝒹𝓎”

~ todd,

i found a glitter gel pen. life is good. except when its bad which it mostly is here. i wanna kiss ur mouth too

love, neil

[driftsart]

Wait so, where does the story for the au take place, exactly? Are the Autobots and Cons still on Cybertron? Are they on Earth? When does it take place? :3

Autobots

The Autobots are divided up to look for Decepticons.

- Team Prime is Sentinel's group that changes location every now and then. Sometimes they're in autobot base (on earth) and sometimes they're on cybertron.

-Ultra Magnus' group of Autobot travel from Cybertron to Earth and back to carry messages, sometimes other autobots from one place to another, etc.

- The Earth Autobots are the autobots who have settled on Earth. Some of these include: Jazz, Prowl, Rung, Drift, etc. They live in autobot base and work alongside humans, except for Drift, who doesn't like to stick around near other autobots for long.

- Other autobots: Many autobots are allowed to travel between the two planets, others are on Cybertron, capturing all the decepticons there and others are on Earth trying to find the remaining decepticons there.

Decepticons

The decepticons are mostly scattered across earth and Cybertron, in hiding.

- Megatron's group, are in hiding since they first landed on Earth. With spare parts from their escape pods, they created a ship-like home, well hidden with Earth's nature. It's somewhere on a very very tiny island, not even found on maps.

- Tarn's group (Tarn, Arachnid, etc.), (Are Decepticons who are against autobots but against Megatron too. They see Megatron as weak and pathetic and they think the decepticons will lose because of his gentleness. They believe Megatron should be replaced) Is on Cybertron, because they refused to cower and escape Cybertron like Megatron.

- Captive Decepticons: Captive Decepticons are those who were unlucky and got caught by autobot soldiers. They're almost always sent to autobot prisons on Cybertron, where they're treated terribly (they're kinda like Concentration camps). Blitzwing's one of them.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Important Time Periods:

These time periods were the ones with most important parts that are important to the story.

⬇️⬇️

WW1

- WW1 was when the Decepticons arrived on Earth. It's when humans first made contact with Cybertronians.

WW2

- WW2 was when the autobots first landed on Earth. Sentinel was the first to arrive alongside Optimus. While Optimus was distracted with humans and trying to become their allies, Sentinel made some bad deals with the wrong allies.

- Blitzwing and many other decepticons were also captured by both autobots with the help of Sentinel's human allies (the axis 😬). Some were given to the axis for experiments while others were taken back to Cybertron to prisons.

Present

- The younger autobots start to become suspicious of Sentinel and begin doing their own research alongside their younger human allies. Some even start talking to some decepticons that are held captive.

- Tensions between the autobots rise and the younger ones refuse to follow orders more than usual.

- The Autobots are getting closer to finding Megatron's group.

[meowzfordayz]

saying goodbye at the train station

Author’s Note: all relationships are romantic except for Muichiro x Reader — for Muichiro’s, Reader is his older sibling. *Technically* this is not spoiler free, but the spoilers are presented non-canonically (they’re injury related).

saying goodbye at the train station

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~2,500

CW: death content, mild sexual content, traumatic injuries

Suggestion Fulfilled: I don't know if you're accepting asks (if you're not I'm so sorry for disturbing you 🥲) but I was wondering if you could do a modern au based on WW1 or WW2 with all the hashira enlisting as soldiers and saying goodbye to their s/o at the train station ⛽...

~faqs~

“Promise me, promise me you’ll come back. Alive.”

You whisper, clinging to his lapels, forehead smooshed into his chest

Savoring the steadiness of his heartbeat

Wishing you could keep it safe with you at home, tucked warm and certain beneath the bedsheets

“I promise, my love.”

“You always protect everyone,” you sniffle, eyes squeezing shut, “So how about you come back and protect me.”

A fierce desperation, a hopeless greed, that perhaps your smile will be enough

“Of course,” Gyomei chuckles lightly, kissing the top of your head, “Anything for you.”

“Must you board the train?”

He only nods, arms aching as he continues holding you, once more memorizing the curve of your body against his, the scent of your hair tickling his nose, the sorrow of your tears dampening his jacket

—

“You came back.”

You’re already sobbing, smile wider than it’s ever been, hands quivering as you rush toward him

“Most of me,” he murmurs sheepishly, “I’m a leg less than before.”

“You’re never less to me,” you declare firmly, “I love you.”

“I hate you for leaving me. I hate, I hate this, this stupid, senseless war.”

You’re glowering, refusing to touch him, arms crossed over your body

“I hate it too.”

He mutters, itching to hold you, loathing how your final moments together are bleeding with strife

“Then why partake?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Obanai sighs, anxiously eyeing the clock behind your head

“You can always make one,” you retort, wiping tears from your ruddy cheeks before they fall to the platform

“Dearest, let us not part on such terms.”

“Let us not part at all!” you’re shouting

“Is this really how you insist on saying goodbye?”

He’s stern, yet soft; tenderly heartbroken

“I don’t want to say it!” “Then don’t,” he gives in, pulling you into his chest in a single, greedy movement, relief filling his lungs when you grab ahold of him, “Don’t say goodbye.”

You whimper, “I love you.”

He whispers, “I love you more.”

—

“I’m never saying goodbye to you again,” you declare, awe and shock stiffening your limbs, your favorite silhouette waiting patiently on your doorstep

“And why is that?” he asks wryly, leaning heavy and tired

You’re cupping his face, delicate and careful, his skin tremoring as you brush over new scars

“If I had said goodbye, would you be here now?”

“Dearest, nothing in this world could ever stop me.”

“I’m so afraid for you.”

“For me?” she quirks a teasing eyebrow, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but-”

“But you like taking care of me too,” she interrupts gently, knowingly

“Mitsuri, what if-”

“What if I’m okay, you’re okay, and this is all a dream?”

“This is war,” your voice raises, “You can’t be so flippant about dy-”

“I’m not going to die.”

She sounds so certain, so steady, so-

“Mitsuri, I’m terrified.”

Your bottom lip trembles, wiping the smile off her face, strong arms wrapping sudden and tightly around you, familiar warmth only deepening the ache in your chest

“I know baby, I know,” she murmurs, grimacing to herself, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not going to die, right?”

You’re demanding, pleading, begging for her to-

“I promise, baby. You’re not gonna lose me.”

She promises again and again and again

As many times as she can before the train begins to whistle

—

“Don’t scold me,” she mumbles, “But I-”

“YOU DIDN’T DIE!” you scream, promptly flinging yourself toward her

“Well-” she blushes

Your eyes widen, halting on your tiptoes, narrowly avoiding bowling both of you over, “Your arms…”

“I’m-”

“ALIVE, and the love of my life,” you quickly shush her

“You aren’t-”

“Of course I’m bothered,” you reply simply, “You’ve suffered traumatic injuries.”

“Things won’t be the way they-”

“Well obviously,” you shrug, “You aren’t the way you were.”

“And that’s alright?”

“I still love you. I still want to be with you.”

“Baby… I love you.”

“Don’t get into trouble, okay? Be safe, my love. Please.”

“Why are you telling me that?” you snort, raising a bemused eyebrow, “You’re the one leaving.”

“You say that like you have so little faith in me returning,” she quips back

You fix an even stare on her lighthearted expression, shaking your head as your mouth twists

“Hey,” her tone softens, warm hand reaching out for your hip, “My love, look at me.”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you allow Shinobu to tug you into her arms, despairing at the thoughts flickering in and out of sight

“I’m a nurse, I should be safe from most of the fighting.”

“You’re one of few people who would willingly touch fighting, without a ten foot pole,” you retort

She laughs at that, a floaty, mesmerizing sound nestling into your chest, her grasp tightening around you

“How about this, my love: we both do our best to avoid trouble.”

You nod into her heartbeat, fingers clenching as the train’s whistle begins to blow, tears brimming at the reality of the silence awaiting you at home

—

“It would appear you’re as adept as ever at creating trouble,” a familiar voice chirps

Startled, you glance up across the kitchen, eyes widening in amazement

“SHINOBU!”

“I come home in one piece, and this is how you welcome me?” she asks teasingly, body hardened beneath your embrace, yet more fragile than you remember, “My love, the kitchen is, frankly, in shambles.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, “Shut up and let me cherish you.”

“Do not worry too much. I know it will be hard not to, but try. For me? Try to worry only a little.”

“You’re asking a lot of me,” you sigh quietly, eyebrows knit together as you stare into Kyojuro’s earnest gaze

“I ask because I know you are capable,” he smiles softly, thumbs rubbing warm and solid across your knuckles, his hands large and calloused as they encompass your own, “I ask because I worry about you.”

“I’m the last thing you should worry about,” you admonish gently, “I’ll be… safe.”

“And I will try my best to be as well.”

Silence weighs heavy between your hope and his reality, the distinct lack of promise tart in the air as you swallow thickly

“Write to me, okay? And I shall write to you.”

“I love you, Rengoku Kyojuro. I love you.”

“And I love you,” his voice sinks deeply, labored beneath the emotion in his throat, “This, I can always promise you.”

—

“Kyo?” you blink slowly, stunned by your unexpected visitor

“Who else could I be?” he drawls familiarly, “I guess I beat my letter home. I have been honorably discharged due to injury.”

Honorably discharged?

Due to injury?

You nearly gasp, the sight of his bandaged face finally registering, your arms thrown around him before you can even think

“I failed so terribly, Kyojuro. I worried immensely!”

He laughs loudly at your confession, dazzling grin burying itself in your shoulder, melting into your scent, your tears, the quivering of your body

“Ah, well, I suppose I failed somewhat too. I was not… entirely, safe.”

“Clearly,” you mutter, rueful and endeared, inhaling remnants of ash and winter clinging to his coat while your embrace tightens, “But you’re home.”

“You’re so silly. How could I not return to you? How could I even dare?”

“Do not call me silly when you are going to war!” you snap, fingertip pressing harder and harder into his sternum with each emphasis in your sentence

“Fine. Ridiculous.”

The urge to pinch the smugness from his face dissipates as quickly as it surfaces, promptly replaced by a fresh wave of tears as you wrap yourself once again in his arms

“Oh love,” he murmurs, all tenderness at the sudden switch of your demeanor, “I promise you, I could not dare. I will return to you.”

“As you are, or in a coffin?” you sniff petulantly, nose scrunched and dripping, “Because I shall only accept the former.”

“And the former you shall receive,” he answers resolutely, eyes closing against the rolling bile in his stomach, “I love you.”

You want to tell him The world is cruel

You want to tell him Your smile makes it less so

You want to tell him I hate you

But you can’t

Not when he already knows, and still chooses to love you

Not when you know how transparent such lies would be; brittle and self serving; temporary salve smeared over the fears trampling themselves in your head

“I love you more, Sanemi.”

“Idiot,” he says

Impossible he thinks

—

“You’re incredibly annoying,” you mutter, almost breathless as you rush toward his awaiting embrace

“I did precisely as you asked,” he chuckles, final threads of dread loosening at the feeling of your heartbeat, alive and well, pressed firmly to his chest, “Not a scratch.”

“Surely you’re lying.”

“Hm,” he hums noncommittal, smirking as he amends, “Okay, quite a few scratches. But I’m here as I am, as I promised.”

Words dissolve on your tongue, opting instead to kiss his chin, his earlobes, his cheeks, forehead, the tip of his nose, his eyelids, hesitating at his lips as you whisper

“I apologize for ever doubting you.”

He kisses you softly, tasting like the color of autumn, holding you as gently yet fiercely as a spring breeze

“I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

“I don’t believe you,” he mutters, wriggling in your hug

“Do you mean that?” you ask lightly, chin resting delicately atop his head, refusing to release him

Sighing, Muichiro hesitantly pats your back, eyes squeezing tightly

“Mui, I’ll come back for you.”

“How about you stay,” he retorts, mouth twisting, “If you leave, then you’ll-”

“Be okay. I’ll be okay.”

“What if you can’t find me?”

Your heart clenches at the drop in his tone, tears welling when he finally returns your affection, his arms angry and lonely as he clings to you

“I could find you anywhere,” you declare, “I love you.”

“What if other kids bully me?”

“Then I’ll find them too, and beat their asses,” you smirk

“That’s not very nice.”

“Well neither is bullying my younger brother.”

A gentle sob rocks into your chest, the train’s whistle cutting through wet silence, a chorus of crying children and weeping guardians growing loud in the background of your little world

“You’re coming back?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t forget me?”

“Never.”

—

“Mui?”

Someone unrecognizable yet achingly familiar turns at the sound of your voice, his limbs long and wiry, face more slim than you previously recall

“Ready to go?” you smile softly, outstretching a nervous hand toward him

From stillness to full sprint, Muichiro launches himself at you, the brightest grin matching yours as he shouts giddily

“YOU CAME BACK.”

“If I die, will you remember me?”

“You won’t die,” you scoff

“No guarantees.”

You meet Giyuu’s somber gaze with your own wry expression, his hands cool as you clutch them to your chest

“Tomioka Giyuu,” you begin sternly

“Hm?”

“Do you want to die?”

“No.”

“Then, you won’t,” you shrug, pressing warm kisses into the dryness of his knuckles

“Ever?” he asks, deadpan humor surfacing as the tension in his shoulders loosens

“You know what I mean.”

“Your faith in me is incredible,” he murmurs, tugging away from your grasp to cup your cheeks, thumbs tracing the outline of your lips with a trembling sadness, “I can only hope to repay you adequately.”

“There is nothing to repay,” you smile faintly, nuzzling into his palms, “I love you.”

“And if I die?” he whispers

“Then I will remember you fondly,” you promise softly, “With my heart, body, and being.”

—

“I suppose I didn’t want to die,” Giyuu says abruptly, snowflakes stark and glistening in his hair, nearby lamppost illuminating the relief and darkness etched into his cheekbones, “Although I did, quite obviously, lose an arm.”

“I suppose that is quite obvious,” you squeak in the doorway, eyes wide with shock, “You’re home.”

“Are you disappointed?” he questions carefully, fingers curling away from their desire to caress you

“Disappointed?!” you exclaim, “No!” head shaking profusely, “I just didn’t expect you to return so soon!!!!!”

“Well, losing an arm quickened the process.”

“Why aren’t we hugging?” you demand

“I’m wet and cold and you’re cozy and dry. Allow me to-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, swallowed by the heat of your embrace as you fling yourself at him, tears dampening him further as you sob into his shoulder

“Tomioka Giyuu, I love you.”

“And I love you,” he finally grins, “I love you to the moon and back again.”

“Take care of each other. When one of you feels low, raise their spirits. When one of you feels angry, listen to their feelings. When one of you is in danger, come to their rescue. You are my brave spouses, my brilliant partners. I trust I shall return to all of you, whole and sound.”

“Tengen.” “Don’t leave us!”

“Must you go?”

He smiles softly, kissing Suma’s forehead, caressing Makio’s cheek, squeezing Hina’s hand

“Please, Tengen, take care of yourself.”

Nodding at your request, he slips a light finger beneath your chin, kissing you gently as he murmurs

“As you wish.”

You cling to Makio as he kisses Suma, hugging Suma as he kisses Hina, sniffling into Hina’s shoulder as he kisses Makio, lungs heaving from the smoke and bitterness hanging in the air, grateful for the haven of love wrapping itself around you

“If I perish far from home,” he says quietly, “Then do not grieve for the rest of your lives. Thrive for yourselves. Your livelihoods are more precious than mourning a single soul.”

“Tengen!” Suma wails

“How can you be so nonchalant?!” Makio cries

“Don’t ask that of us!” Hina protests

“You’re wrong, Tengen. We are precious to you, just as you are precious to us.”

Meeting the steeliness in your gaze, Tengen chuckles lowly, chest full of warmth and belonging as he shakes his head fondly

“I love you endlessly.”

“And we love you!”

“We love you too!”

“We love you infinitely!”

“We love you, Uzui Tengen. Take care.”

—

“TENGEN!!!! YOUR EYE?!?!?! YOUR HAND?! WHERE IS ITTT?!” <— Suma

“SUMA! You can’t just ask him that-” <— Makio

“Tengen?! He’s home??!!” <—You “TENGEN!!!!!” <— Suma

“I trust you all took care of each other?” <—Tengen

“HINA WOULDN’T LET ME COOK.” <— Makio

“Makio burnt dinner twice.” <— Hina

“I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!!!!” <—Suma

“We survived.” … … … “Somehow.” <— You

“[y/n] kept us together.” <— Hina

“Barely.” <— You

“It was difficult without you.” <— Makio

“Really?” <— Tengen

“Actually. We thrived.” <— Hina

“... oh?” <— Tengen

“Especially without you and your flashy biceps. ” <— You

“Heyyy.” <— Tengen

“Group hug!!!!!” <— Suma

[dinaanana]

School!Au Hcs For Chuuya And Dazai

What kinda students would They Be

Chuuya and Dazai x Reader (Can be either Romantic Or Platonic You decide)

Yr 10

The Type of Mf the whole School Knows,Also the type mf to have a beef with almost every teacher

is smart asf But Acts dumb,Is either Annoying Chuuya on lunch breaks or you

Never participates In P.E just sits there gossiping with the girls that know the whole schools history And Drama

Cheers for you And Chuuya when y'all play something.like volleyball Football etc

The type of mf to have like 10 girlfriends At the same tim

That one guy who carries His Nokia at school That survived WW1 and WW2 and plays Candy crash or sm else,He claims that the teachers are yapping so much that his head hurts

Type of Mf to Throw Some little peace of papers at you so you Give him attention aswell and gossip with him

The type Dude To gasp out so loud when u tell him something in class When there quiet.

The type of Mf to Tell you that the bandages he wears every day are for aesthetic (he never Changes them)

Gets A+ on tests Without even studying

that one Guy Who always asks you for a pen (he never gives them Back)

That one guy That sits Infront of you and lays there head on ur desk

The type to argue with teachers every day

Year 10

That one Short but Athletic ass Kid whose rich

Loves P.E And is really Good at them,if you're on same team as him damn you Lucky

That one Wannabe Gangsta Kid Tbh,Who always gets in Fights (No one is Surprised anymore its normal)

Always in Detention or at Principals Office

Surprisingly Has good grades Like dude How.

Carries Like 10 Spare pens But Gives it To No one Except you (Dazai's steals Them)

That one Loud ass Mf who don't Know What quiet Whispering is,The teacher Doesn't say anything it ain't gonna Change nothing

That one Kid That shortens His sentaces like "Ain't ya" "Dont Cha"" and etc

Is in some Type Weird Gangsta group that Call Themselves the "Sheep"

Smokes in Boys Bathroom everytime Hes bored tbh

(no one Dares to tell the teachers)

He Hates Sitting With Dazai When They're Paired Up Togather,Anyone but that guy.

Everyone made Fun Of him For being A Ginger Until he snapped. And Sent them to Hospital with severe Injuries

You gossip With but He Acts Like he doesn't give af (He does)

[joeythefrog]

debate club rival AU sprace because I am going insane with how homoerotic debate is PARTICULARLY me and this one guy so take this Race brings up mental health in every debate. He isn't above hauling out his autism, his sexuality, his gender, his family life, his personal relationships, his mental illnesses. Everything is on the line. Because what's the other side going to do? Look him in the eyes and say it doesn't matter? That they don't care? Half the time he's lying and he doesn't care because are they really going to interrogate him? NO

Spot brings up WW1 and WW2 in every debate. You have an idea he doesn't like? Are you a nazi? Bring up anything and he can connect it with the world wars. The strings are loosely connected but he is tangled in red yarn and hissing about the world wars. He can turn an argument about tourism into an argument into calling the other side nazis

Spot started calling Race 'pretty boy' in a condescending manner during debates. Then he was using it after and before as well. Over time it became less sharp, less pointed, less angry. An affectionate tease. And if he gets a little too close to Races face when they're waiting in the hallway for the results of the round then it was for intimidation alone

[nunalastor]

The timeline of Alastor's life on this blog is insane, especially when factoring in both the ace attorney and resident evil stuff.

Age unknown: Lives with abusive father, mother (stepmother if you add the BBC Merlin stuff) presumably dies Age 14: Conspires with a corrupt cop and a pedophile tutor to scam his father out of a two million dollar diamond. Fakes death and begins living under the name Allen Foster Age 18: Serves in WW1 Age 19: Corrupt cop tries to come clean, Alastor commits his first non-war murder. Ensuing trial results in the suicide of pedophile tutor. Goes back to living as Alastor Hawthorne Age 20: Loose ends from the tutor suicide results in poisoning an investigator. Meets Guy Winters and moves in with him Age 20s: Becomes a popular radio host and a prolific serial killer Age 26/28: Guy disappears investigating the Baker's Estate (AU is unclear if he was gone for just months or the RE canon 3 years) Age 29: Investigates the Baker Estate and rescues Guy. Guy soon becomes sick. Serial murders presumably increase Age 30: If Guy had a child from a trauma-induced one-night stand, Alastor becomes a parent Age 33: Killed while burying a body

What a life.

😭

[gerec]

Do you have any fic recs where Charles or Erik is a spy? I’ve been loving spy fics set against a WWII backdrop but any type is welcome!

Hi Anon!

Here's a list I made previously for an Anon who asked for 'James Bond' type aus. I think you'll find a few spy aus there to enjoy!

Also, here are some WW1/WW2 and others that didn't make the previous list :D

Spy Games by manic_intent

Prompt: Burn Notice AU, with Erik Lehnsherr as the spy and Charles as the trigger-happy ex boyfriend. Erik is burned for unknown reasons in Mexico and wakes up in New York City. Somehow, he needs to raise $500,000, in order to find out -why-.

Hier steh ich an den Marken meiner Tage by MonstrousRegiment

Erik Lehnsherr is a spy in the SS, and his British liaison is strategist Charles Xavier. Their relationship from the moment they meet to a year after the end of the war.

“You’re the only person in the world who knows what I am.”

Duct Tape Makes You Smart by AlchemyAlice

For a prompt at 1stclass_kink : X-Men via Burn Notice. "My name is Charles Xavier. I used to be a spy..."

Erik Lehnsherr's Baby and Child Care: 1st Ed. by ourgirlfriday * (Erik is a retired spy)

When everyone told Erik that having children would change things, he agreed wholeheartedly. For one, they’d need to get more food from the grocery store, and recalibrate the booze to juice ratio currently used in the apartment. He and Charles would have to either eschew mid-afternoon couch sex or become much stealthier about said mid-afternoon couch sex. The office, currently overflowing with Charles’s genetics texts and Erik’s maps and dossiers, would have to be converted to a baby room. They’d need toys of some sort or another. And he’d most certainly no longer be able to leave spare grenades on the end tables.

a fish hook; an open eye by fabeld 

Charles Xavier’s wealth protects him from mandatory service in the British Armed Forces, but he refuses to sit idly by when his telepathy can be used to assist the Allied Powers. As a British spy, Charles gains the Nazi Party’s trust and is sent to Paris to complete one last mission. His plan is disrupted when he runs into someone he never thought he would see again.

Trading No Secrets by feathershollyandgolly

Charles Xavier is an MI6 Agent with the terrible habit of asking questions when he shouldn’t. Erik Lehnsherr is a freelance Nazi Hunter working under Mossad. With nothing in common, they are not partners and they certainly are not friends (at least, not yet).

Mr & Mr Eisenhardt by faerie_ground (I know they're technically assassins not spies but it's too good lol)

“Now,” Mr Howlett says, and clicks his irritatingly pink pen. “How happy are you with your marriage? On a scale of one to ten.”

“Eight,” Charles says.

“That’s a rubbish scale,” Erik says. “You can’t fucking measure happiness on a scale. How are we supposed to know how much happiness differs between each number? What, are we just supposed to guess? Also, does one mean most happy or least happy? Also-”

Charles closes his eyes and looks like he wants to suffocate himself using one of the cushions.

*

Charles Haller and Erik Eisenhardt meet at a bar, fall in love, and get married. Neither of them know that the other is an assassin working for a rival agency- but they're about to find out real soon.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

thistle, part two

a/n: that gif in the moodboard was too perfect for me not to use it. I mean just look at it, holy fuck...

summary:  “what do we do?”

warnings: James Potter x reader, royal au, prince!James, servant!reader (lady's maid), forbidden romance, secret relationship, historical au (beginning of the 1920s), references to WW1, surely extremely historically inaccurate but this is just for fun, lovesick!James, crying, grief, kissing

word count: 1633

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“Son, you need to take your new responsibilities seriously.”

Not even caring if his father saw, James rolled his eyes and sighed, “I don’t wanna go to another fucking ball. All the stupid meetings and new lessons are more than enough for me to have to deal with.”

Lowing his voice, the king leaned in and hissed, “you will go to that ball whether you want to or not. That is not your father asking you to, that is an order from your king. You will find yourself a queen come the end of this year, and that’s final.”

“Pa,” James exhaled and uttered of the utmost truth, “I can go to a thousand balls and still not find my queen. I won’t find her there.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, his father spoke, “please don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself attached to that little maid…” using the same tone he would scolding a child that had disappointed him.

Taken aback by his apparent knowledge, “what?”

“Listen,” he placed a heavy hand on James’ heaving shoulder, “I don’t care. It’s fine, you can have her if you want. Having a bit of fun with the help is nothing new. You will be the king of this country, so you can damn well warm your prick wherever you’d like,” the careless words hit James like a bullet to the heart, “you just can’t marry her.”

The next thing James knew, his tight fist collided with his father’s cheekbone in a deafening blow. His rage-filled body not ready to stop at just one, wishing for nothing less than to pummel his face in, the lurking guards were instantly alarmed and held the prince back, preventing him from striking the monarch any further.

Showing no surprise at all, his father simply raised a hand for the guards to release him and huffed through his clenched jaw, “are you quite finished?” earning nothing but a furious twitch from his son, the king then frustratingly went on, “alright, look, these feelings they will pass, just wait it out, or better yet, how long has it been since you’ve had a taste of a proper lady? That’ll sure help you forget about that little whore of yours.”

With a guard still ready on either side of him, James, utterly stunned, merely spat in his father’s face, and fumed, “fuck you.”

James didn’t just walk when you spotted each other from either side of the hallway, but he actually ran towards you, as fast as his feet would let him. Yourself being too aware of the fact that there were other people present, resisted the overpowering urge to let yourself run into your lover's arms as well. 

“Hi,” you exhaled as he closed in on you, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as he wrapped his arms around you, capturing you in a long yearned-for hug. 

“You’re here,” his shaky voice tickled your hair, “you’re actually here.”

Catching the odd glances offered by the passing help, you whispered, “James, people can see us.” 

“I don’t fucking care,” he hissed, his arms only tightening further around your form. 

Sliding your hand down to one of his, you suggested softly, “come on, let’s go back to your room,” and with an exhausted expression, James agreed and let you guide him along, though still not yielding his hold completely, his hand completely glued to yours.

Now being both in more private quarters, but also in a room with better light than what the dim palace halls offered, you caught sight of the state James’ knuckles were in. “What happened?” you held his bruised hand up and inspected the cracked skin, “are you alright?”

“It’s nothing, love,” he brushed you off, swiftly lowering his injured fist and pulling you with him as he collapsed on the bed.  

“James,” you sighed, wearily sitting beside him, “that is not nothing.”

Exhaling slowly, James stared up into the canopy and uttered, “they know about us.”

Feeling all of the colour rush out of your cheeks, you breathed, “oh…”

“And they basically told me that if I married a proper lady that I could keep on being with you in secret,” the bridge of his nose twitched at the relaying of those words, “keep fucking whomever I please.”

“Oh…” you echoed, letting your head drop down low. If that was truly what it took for you to be with him, if it was the only possible way for you to have each other, then so be it. You’d rather be with him in secret than not at all. 

Glancing up at you, detecting the acceptance clear in your voice, he sat back up and spoke, “I don’t want you to be a secret,” he held your hand tighter, his tone now revealing just how distressed he truly was, “don’t you get it? I love you. I love you and only you,” he spoke as it was the clearest of facts, “I don’t want you to just be some secret, I want you to be my queen!” a single tear rolled down his cheek, “if I’m forced to do this, then I want you at my side. I don’t want this, I’ve never wanted any of this! I want you! That’s all I’ve ever desired. You. Nothing else, just you.”

A couple of tears escaped as you blinked back at the broken man in front of you, “James…”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shared hazily, “this isn’t how things were supposed to be… I was never meant to be king. Thomas was, and he was good at it too, it’s what he was raised to do. I was raised as a plan b. I liked being a plan b. Everything used to be perfect. No one would have cared whom I loved. I’ve always known that I wasn’t as important, and I liked that. It meant that I actually got to live. He didn’t get to, so I did. They sent me to fucking war without a care in the world, and sure, Thomas was a soldier as well, but only in title. He was too fucking precious and important to actually send into battle. I was dispensable, he wasn’t. He was just trying to live for once in his goddamn life and it killed him.”

As the last word escaped his lips, James melted down into you and there you stayed, a minute, two, who knows how long you just stayed right there, holding him in your arms.

“Tell me what to do…” you whispered against his temple, feeling utterly powerless, “I don’t know what to do…”

“Just hold me,” his exhaustion rang clear in his voice, “make the world disappear just for a little bit…”

“I love you,” you whimpered, planting a few gentle pecks into his hair, “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

“Nonsense,” Delilah scoffed, banging her cane lightly against the hardwood floor and stared intensely down at the young couple in front of her, “I will not stand here and have you live your life in secret.”

“But granny,” James sighed beside you, “it’s the only way.”

“No, it isn’t,” she shook her head, her dazzling earrings glistening in the low light. Exhaling slowly, her stern stare locked in on a spot on the rug beneath her feet as she hesitantly shared, “James, your grandfather wasn’t the only man I ever loved. Back when I met him, there was already someone else, someone whom I loved in a way that I never experienced again. He had no title, no money, but I loved him nonetheless. When your grandfather showed his interest in me, the other man got scared, didn’t feel like he was worthy of the love from a great lady. So, because he felt like he couldn’t compete, he made the decision for me and just removed himself from the equation. King Henry was a great man, we made a good team, but he just wasn’t my man. I’ve never stopped regretting that I didn’t fight harder for him,” finally lifting her severe gaze, she pleaded softly, “don’t make the same mistake I did.”

Glancing over at you with glossy eyes, James clutched your hand tightly, a tear rolling down his cheek as you squeezed it in return, “what do we do?”

Having the answer ready on the tip of her tongue, Delilah breathed, “we’ll spread word that you want one last night together alone. Go out into the old barn, leave a few identifiable items, your locket, Y/n, and your watch, darling, and then you are going to burn it down. Make sure to pack as little as you possibly need and go as far away as you can. Hop on a train to France and just keep going after that. Don’t look back. From this day on you will no longer be a prince and a maid, you will be just another newlywed couple moving somewhere else for a fresh start.”

“I don’t think any church in the country would marry us,” you spoke the bitter truth. 

“Darling,” she raised her chin slightly and stated, “I am the former queen of this nation. If I say that you are married, then you are married,” she then promptly took the emerald-encrusted ring off of her slender finger, grabbed your palm and placed it in it, “here,” your wide eyes flickered from the striking band to the glistening eyes of the elderly royal, “your mother would have wanted you to live a bright and vibrant life filled with every colour imaginable,” she spoke as she affectionately wrapped her hand around yours, making your fingers close in around the ring, “don't sulk around in her shadow forever. Go, be happy as far away from here as you can get.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[must4rdmha]

What situation?…

Mustard fanfic, made by: SidJ08

AU! Where Toga and Mustard are Compress’ adoptive kids,they’re still in the lov.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a Sunday afternoon, on a fall/autumn day where most teenagers were going out or playing videogames. This wasn’t Mustard’s case.

He was being driven in a car to a talk with a psychiatrist, but he wasn’t being driven by the police, he was being driven by his friends (Or the League of Villains). He didn’t like the idea, but he was neither doing anything to stop them, he just wasn’t being himself.

The reason of this sudden visit to a psychiatrist(known by the league, ofc. They would never go to someone who they didn’t know everything about (and when I say everything is EVERYTHING.).) is because a few weeks ago the league was chit-chatting in the hideout as always, and they were talking about their past and all that.

When it was his turn of asking him about “whAt Is the ScarY rEasOn of WhY yOu sTarTed to kIlL 👻” he just didn’t respond, everyone thought he would say something like “WW1, Soviet Union, guns, bombs” but he just stayed there,without saying a word(literally).

Toga thought he would have fell asleep,so she approached to him trying to “wake him up” and when she was about to touch him, he quickly sit up, surprising the league.

“Stop.”

He looked really tense, and his hands were really sweaty, and when they started to look shaky he saved them in his trousers’s pockets, after that leaving the hideout without saying a word about where he was going, for then to return 2 hours later.

After that strange moment, it looked like things for Mustard weren’t the same. He had a poker face and he almost didn’t say a word, like if he was thoughtful all the time. The plans he would usually accept to make now he declined them and he spent most of his day on the rooms the hideout had for the members that preferred staying there/ they had nowhere to stay. If he wasn’t in his room he was out, he tried to avoid the bar the best he could, which it was mostly successful due to his ability to be silent.

This was kinda worrying for most of the league, but more for Compress and Toga, that they were the ones who were the closest to him.

They tried talking to him but he just responded with short answers and he ended up avoiding them. Until it was beginning to be stressful for him and he exploded.

—“ Hey Mustard what if we go t-?”

— “STOP. Stop trying to make me talk! If I don’t wanna socialise,neither go out with you it’s my problem AND ONLY MINE. Stop trying to apologise for that night! You guys don’t know what is my story or if my parents are dead,are heroes or they just don’t want to know anything about me, or if I’m traumatised or if…*he sighed* JUST STOP.— and he left. After that he went from responding with short sentences to avoiding everything and not talking. Making Compress to call Getaway to tell her “Hey, could you drive us where I sometimes ask you to drive me? The kid who’s obsessed with WW1 needs it.”

So now,here we are, Mustard sitting at the left back of the car looking at the window,seeing the cars moving and people having fun.

“…Where are we going?” He said leaving them surprised, he didn’t speak since a few days ago.

“You didn’t forget how to talk! …To see Mister’s psychiatrist”. Toga answered, Mustard don’t turning his head to look at her.

After that comment everything was silent, even Getaway was starting to get uncomfortable with that awkward silence.

“So…How have you all been doing?” Getaway said for trying to maintain a conversation.

After that they all started to maintain a conversation,except Mustard,that was still looking at the window.

A few minutes later they reached to their destination, Compress thanked Getaway and when he was about to pay her she suddenly stopped him,telling him that for today he didn’t need to,that when things got better he would can.

Getaway left and they reached to an apartment building, Atsuhiro grabbed his phone and started to call someone,while Mustard and Toga waited. Less than a minute later a young woman was seen going down the building stairs and opening the door, letting them in.

She presented herself, her name was Lady Honeycomb or Hachi for friends. They go up stairs and enter an apartment.

Her apartment looked like a clinic, of course it was an illegal clinic, but there was a few people there,no one that they know. Hachi told Compress and Toga to wait outside, telling Mustard to follow her.

At her office:

She closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the room.

“Alright, Mustard. Take a seat” Hachi pointed at a sofa and to a chair, leaving Mustard to choose where he wanted to seat.

Mustard nods and sits on the chair facing her and the desk.

Hachi sat too, facing him with a calm smile.

“Mr Compress,or your adoptive dad,however you call him, told me that in this few weeks you have been without talking to anyone since while talking with the league, or your friends, you were asked about a topic that you seemed to be sensitive with”. She explained to him slowly,trying to make him talk.

There was an awkward silence, a silence that Hachi expected to be. Mustard was looking at the desk, not making eye contact with her, but this time instead of having a poker face, his face looked kinda pale and he had a blank stare.

Hachi sighed and kept talking “But that’s not the main reason of why you’re here, the reason is because after that situation you had with-“ She was interrupted.

“What situation?…” He asked, now directly looking at her with open eyes.

“The fight” She responded. “When you exploded and started to say that everything that was happening to you it was just your problem” When Mustard heard that, he broke the eye contact,again.

“When people explode emotionally, they tend to vent about what happened to them, but in an aggressive way” Hachi explained, trying to make him understand what happened.

There was an akward silence again.

“Look, Mustard. You’re here because they’re worried about you… What happened for you to have this sudden change of personality?” She asked, making him more nervous,saving his hands on his sweater pockets.

“Because this isn’t you-“ she was interrupted.

“Of course this isn’t me” He lifted his face,facing each other. “Do you really think I like being like this? Like if I enjoyed making the others to be worried? Why do you think I told them to stop worrying?!” He was starting to get annoyed, which was noticiable because his widened eyes.

“I don’t know,I wasn’t there” She responded. “Why?”

“Be-because… Because these are my problems, just my problems. I have dealt with them always! And I’ll keep dealing with them alone…” He answered,slowly opening to her.

“And how long have you been dealing with them? Which were the times where you find the hardest to deal with them?” She asked while writing something in her notebook.

“I have been dealing with them always…” he started to think about the second question. “I…” he looked at the floor “I don’t know”.

“You can’t think about any moment?” Hachi asked,observing his blank stare at the floor.

After a few seconds he shook his head. Making Hachi to write another thing.

“And…What are that problems you’re mentioning? Does it have something to do with when you joined the League…or before joining”

“…Before joining” He said “The league isn’t as bad as people paint them” he slightly chuckled.

“I know” Hachi smiled and wrote something down. Then checked her watch, noticing that they had only 10 minutes left.

“Look, we only have 10 even 15 minutes left. Before you leave, could you confirm me that before I asked you about “the situation”, did you forget about it?”

“ You’re asking that before I got here…If I did forget about the fight?”

“Exactly, did you?” Hachi had her pen prepared to write something. “Please,Mustard,be honest-“

“I did.”

After that Hachi began to write down something, she searched some things in her computer too, leaving Mustard clueless and kinda confused. She pulled out the prescription pad,write down something in it with some illegible handwriting and afterwards wrote the same thing on her notebook. She checked again her watch and the 10 minutes had already passed.

“Alright, you may go now, but please after that tell Compress to come in”. She smiled at him “Have a good week!”

Mustard nodded and got out of the office, some seconds later Mr.Compress coming inside the office.

( Hachi’s color will be this since now)

“Good morning! Take a seat” Hachi said, pointing at the chair in front of her desk.

“So, how did it go?” Compress asked,removing his mask.

“Before I tell you anything, I just wanna make sure he isn’t allergic to any pills”.

“No,he is not…Is everything okay?” Compress seemed kinda concerned and confused.

“Alr, so let’s see…” She checked some notes “Mustard probably has a dissociation disorder”

“Why? And w-why probably, and what is that?” He asked, his face turned quite pale when he heard that.

Hachi expected this to happen.

“Compress,look, don’t get nervous. Hearing the word disorder can be confusing and concerning, but it’s more common that you think it is. Dissociation is a type of response towards a trauma, dissociation “buries” the trauma with it’s pain, and when someone remembers you or makes you to remember unconsciously the trauma, it rakes up. Making the dissociation progress to repeat.” She explained slowly, seeing how he started to understand.

Compress sighed. “And…Did you know if he did just developed it? Because he has never been like this!”

“It doesn’t look like so, but I believe I would need to have more sessions with him for confirming completely that, he has this disorder and when did he develop it.” Hachi glanced for a moment her notebook. “You mentioned me before coming here that he finds difficult to sleep,so I prescribed him some pills that will help him to sleep and after it the pills have an effect to make him feel more relaxed.” She gave him the prescription. “If you need something ,call me…Oh and, don’t forget to come to our appointment.” She said,now looking at him in a more serious way, making him to chuckle slightly at her reaction.

“I won’t… Thanks for everything, Doctor” Atsuhiro smiled,more relieved.

Hachi nodded,seeing how he would leave and close the door behind him.

When he came out of the office he could see Mustard crying on a chair while Toga trying to comfort him while asking why was the reason of his crying. Atsuhiro was about to do it too,then he realised something: Mustard remembered again.

THE END.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I thought this would be short, but I had time,so…

I hope you guys liked it 💚 please, I would really appreciate it if you supported this post,this got me days of making.

Special thanks to @tokkiyuni who lent me her ocs, tysm again 💗 (AND CHECK HER ACC, SHE DOES AMAZING DRAWINGSSS 💕)

People mentioned: @marbled-magician @little-sis-toga @honeycomb-hachi @just-getaway

-🌬️🌪️

[girlpanthera]

CW// SH, drug use, military/war, mental health

Deciding to expand on some lore for my little AU. (none of this is exactly time/ historically accurate) Anyways, this takes place in India during / around the war in Vietnam. The Beatles headed off to India, deciding to take a break while political conflict heated up around the world. They wanted time to brainstorm more music ideas and bond with each other. during their time in india, they experimented with hard drugs, and they all had almost normal reactions to it except for Paul. he seemed to be specifically affected by it, beginning to act erratically and showing self harming behaviors. he was very short tempered and instead of being bossy, his angered reactions would result in hitting others, or harming himself before devolving into hypersexuality. most of this was taken out on John, since they were closer, while ringo and George left john to manage this new mentally fragile paul at most times, keeping to themselves.

As war broke loose, The Beatles were all spared from the draft, except for John and paul. (in connection to how i won the war and Sargent Paul in magical mystery tour)

Paul, due to his extreme self harming habits, was dishonorably discharged from his sargent position only a few months into the war, as his habits tended to not only disgust the other platoon mates, but also cause risk of him getting infections and effected his overall performance during war time. He returned back to India, leaving John, causing even more tenseness in their relationship. John was focused on anti war propaganda and trying to find a way to protect the platoon mates while paul was self absorbed within himself, his own image, and what he wanted.

When Paul returned he spoke about what he saw in Vietnam at night, He talked about “cats of every color” who would stand on two feet and play trumpets, making the platoon loose sleep. He said these cats came from the knots of the trees and would play tricks on them, each kitten had fur the color of a primary color. he mentioned the odd happening about how one of his platoon mates had grown the lower half of a leopard and returned to the platoon shortly after he had lost his legs to a bouncing betty and had been left in the fields to die. he blamed the self inflicted scratches on his neck on that specific platoon mate, stating that he would carry him like a kitten by the scruff to the fox hole at night, the same hole where a french soldier from ww1 had been buried, but seemed to be only in the first stages of decomposition oddly enough despite how long ago he had died.

Ringo passed this off as the acid and trauma getting to paul’s head, but George was specifically intrigued by paul’s story about the women in Vietnam. about how they were all leopards. They were generously curvy and didn’t speak, but kept the soldiers nice and clean and offered them tea. he said these women existed in india, and the uk, and America, too. he said all women were secretly these patheras. he called them “the wild women”

Paul began wearing only womens underwear and button ups, he would take George to the fields to get high and he would talk about how “Paul was dead: and that “the original Paul flew out the windshield of a weaponry jeep earlier that year, the second week in India” and this Paul didn’t seem to be pleased with needing to act like someone he wasn’t.

Paul began getting much closer with George, even getting physical with him despite george’s hesitation and disgust at paul’s actions. George hated this new Paul, yet admired him deeply. his actions disgusted him but his charm and allure and stories made him stay wrapped around paul’s finger.

soon George even began getting gifts from these wild women. he would see the cats of every color, losing sleep at night to their trumpets, and he would check the feet of the soldiers that would knock on their door, just to assure they had no leopard feet. George began losing it as well, he gave into paul’s touches and rough sexual behavior, whereas ringo watched them slip out of it, spending most of his time trying to make them take meds and hide sharp objects from them. John was scheduled to come home within a week, as he had blown off his own foot. He needed escape from the war as well,and from what he wrote, the platoon thought so as well. they made excuses for him, and one member even took the blame for blowing off his damn foot.

THIS IS ALL I HAVE FOR NOW SOOOO. i’ll be making more art for it :P

@littlemiss-noname

[cristaq]

I am not an AU kind of guy usually BUT

After serving and surviving WW1, Price embraces a management position. Riding the waves of the roaring 20s, he moves to the US and opens an illegal underground jazz club serving booze during the height of the prohibition.

Another WW1 survivor moves to the States from the UK and looks around to make a name for himself. The military saw strength and determination in him, but they missed his voice. During an altercation in Price’s club, one John MacTavish meets the famous owner and convinces him to give him a chance.

Price has his doubts. The new guy has a scar running down his eye and one across his chin and chose Soap as his stage name. What kind of name is Soap anyways? He is rugged and looks weird in a suit but the moment he opens his mouth the room fucking cheers. Price has never heard a more sultry, deep raspy voice. He licks his lips when he sees the man move around the stage but he blames it on the vanilla cigars. The audience loses its mind as Soap moves his hips and sings, showing off the entire range of his voice.

Price’s club makes more money than ever imagined. And with the help of some other old friends, like Ghost, they keep their competition in check. Word on the street goes that the Brits were owning the local underground jazz stage and you need their approval to make any move.

During one police raid of the club, Price and Soap end up hiding in a (cue small confined space that forces them to sit very close to each other). And of course they confess their feelings and make out, with the police right next to them.

Perhaps Price gets imprisoned and Soap becomes the new owner, thinking of a plan to get his man out. Looks awfully a lot like the original trilogy, don’t you think???