#Edwardian au

[esther-dot]

Downton Abbey AUs

Look for the Silver Lining 7k, WIP by @ohhaveyouseenme

“He’s coming to stay…” Lord Eddard Stark’s announcement was met with silence before it was broken by the incredulous scoff of one Sansa Stark. “Here?” she bit out, turning fully away from her father. “With all of us?” Sansa looked around imploringly at the rest of her family.

And Then There Was You 49k, WIP by @periwinkle39

Lord Ned Stark and his family live in a beautiful stately home called Winterfell in the northern English county over which he presides as earl. His wife, Lady Catelyn Stark, is an American heiress whose fortune helped secure the Stark estate and keeps it running. They have three children: Robb, Sansa and Arya. Robb, who was set to inherit everything, has died tragically. By law, Ned’s heir is the next oldest male Stark and that turns out to be a distant cousin named Jon.

Of Love and Land 2k (incomplete but works as a one shot)

A Downton Abbey inspired AU - When Eddard Stark, the owner of one of the largest estates in England, Winterfell, dies on the sunken Titanic along with his wife and sole son, Robb, only his daughters Sansa and Arya are left. Given the absence of a male heir, the estate is inherited by their estranged cousin Jon Snow, who lived the entirely of his life on his own mysterious father’s modest lands in Scotland. While Arya adores cousin Jon, Sansa is as disconcerted by him as he seems to be by her…

The Chauffeur and the Lady 1k (incomplete but works as a one shot)

AU set in 1921 Jon Snow is hired by the Stark family to be the Chauffeur and Jon and Sansa find themselves drawn to each other. Loosely inspired by Downton Abbey

Gifsets: Downton Abbey AU by @winterrobb and Downton Abbey Jonsa and Gendrya AU by @divinespairings

Edit: Downton Abbey AU manip by @sardoniyx, "Marry a man who can barely hold his fork like a gentlemen?" by @azulaahai, “Don’t do this Jon! You can’t just kiss me!" by @jonsa-creatives, “I’m not going to give you an answer until you say it properly.” by @kitten1618x

General Edwardian AUs

Even a Small Love 54k

After the war that sundered her family and tore her homeland apart, Sansa had thought a loveless marriage to a near-stranger a small price to pay for her honor, her safety, and, above all, Winterfell. Over a year later, she begins to wonder if that's really all she wants out of life. Then her husband falls ill.

A Just Woman and an Honorable Man 12k, WIP by @sibyldisobedience

A story of politics, corruption, blackmail, marriage, and love. (an Ideal Husband AU)

The Sweet Intoxication of the Fall 30k by @vivilove-jonsa

When Jon is hired on as the new undergardener at Winterfell, Old Willem’s rules are simple:   “The godswood takes care of itself. The rest of the estate does not. If a task can be done by sundown, I expect it to be done by sundown. If not, go eat your supper and finish it the next day. Don’t neglect the lemon trees in the Glass Garden. They need constant care to thrive up here. Leave Lady Catelyn’s roses that grow there be. She prefers to tend them herself. Leave Lady Catelyn’s daughters be as well.”   Keeping to four out of five isn’t so bad, he reckons.

Cousin Jon ficlet by @amymel86

“Cousin Jon?” Lady Catelyn rolled her eyes in exasperation and set the letter gently down on her writing desk. “Yes, cousin Jon. Who else were you expecting to swoop in and save us from this scandal?” Corresponding gifset

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON SIX - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE -SALTY TEENS - POST CANON - RICKON LIVES - JON X ALAYNE

[lolacucaaa]

trying to figure out the color blocking for everyone!

[timetravelbypen]

“Who needed a grand ballroom, with its lights and its rules and its crowds filled with people and their judgments, when they could have this? When all they really needed was each other?”

I asked the incredible @rosenkranz-does-things to draw this scene from my Edwardian AU Thasmin fic, In This World of Strangers, I Belong to Someone, and oh my GOD the result is absolutely amazing!!! Their commission info is here and also pinned at the top of their page.

[keira63fic]

The Werewolf (1/1)

When a series of attacks on livestock coincide with the arrival of the new Earl of Kirigan, Mal comes to believe that old tales of werewolves may have some truth to them.

[daily-rayless]

Not one, but two Natalias today.

I've always liked Natalia's blue-green-white princess outfit, so these were going to be two in a series where I took that outfit and reimagined it as fashions across different decades -- pretty much what I did with Transistor's Red four years later.

I only ever did these two, 1890s Natalia and 1910s Natalia. Or, I guess, late Victorian AU and Titanic AU Natalia.

[zorawitch]

there is an edwardian thasmin au in which yaz is a law student and the doctor does clockwork. the doctor gets arrested for wearing pants at one point but there is a happy ending. i don't know who wrote it but it haunts me every day. please link it if you do.

[bunnyjoyce-blog]

[Edwardian/pre-WW1 AU] Lucy and her sewing skills had been a recurring part of Schroeder's life

[four2andnew]

The Weasley Family Tree in A Rose in Winter

Was working on this fic today (added a whopping 1270 words, which is a lot for me lately) and realized I'd never have a reason to slip the details of the Weasley brothers' family in way that makes sense to the story.

Now remember, I arbitrarily made it so the births of magical boys greatly outnumber magical girls in this fic (which makes sense if you read the first chapter), thus none of this is canon compliant. Plus you know, different people being dead vs. alive...

Below is a snapshot of my work notes with the Weasley Family Tree:

[fandomsbyladymelodrama]

@salzrand - Rosie gets her dance <3

[elliemarchetti]

Letters From the Past

My entry for @liquidluckdrabblechallenge’s prompt 65. Set after The Path Behind the Burrow but easily readable as a stand-alone epistolary fic.

Prompt: “I’m proud of you”

Words: 616

Diagon Alley, London, June 4th 1903

My dearest,

Since I left I have been constantly depressed. My happiness is to be near you. Incessantly I live over in my memory your caresses and your tears. The charms of the incomparable Hermione Granger kindle continually a burning and glowing flame in my heart. I think my body is going crazy with yearn and I wonder if you want me the way I want you, if you’re reduced to a thing that desires me as well. How did I love before I knew you, before I possessed your affection? My life seems to stop when you’re not around, I see no further meaning in anything. When, free from solicitude, shall I be able to pass all my time with you?

Yours, Fred

Canaan Way, Ottery St Catchpole, June 9th 1903

My beloved,

I can’t forget the feeling of your blood on my fingertips, the hotness, the wetness, all melting together to show your bravery and defend my honour. Nothing compares to your bruised hands, nothing like the deep reverb of your laughter, violent like a flash of lightning. My body has been filled with you for days, and I can’t say how every time I ever put my arms around you I felt I was home. You have ravished me away by a power I cannot and will not resist. Yesterday, I composed a beautiful letter in the sleepless nightmare hours, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. I will take the first train I can hop on after my mother’s full recovery from the flu. Wait for me.

Ever thine, Hermione

Diagon Alley, London, June 11th 1903

Ever mine,

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you. Continue to love me, never misjudge my most faithful heart, tearfully longing for you. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any more by giving myself away like this, but oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you, I love you too much for that, too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art, but you have broken down my defences and I don’t really resent it. The hollow of your armpits is my shelter, and your kisses calm my raging mind. I cannot exist without you; I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again.

Yours, Fred

Canaan Way, Ottery St Catchpole, 15th 1903

Dear Fred,

Everyone will be furious with me for this but they don’t understand us. I feel it’s only with you that I can do anything at all. We should’ve never parted at all, earlier in the month: there are such wide abysses now of space and land between us, but we love each other selfishly, and that’s enough for me, although I would be utterly miserable without the hope of seeing you soon.

Yours, Hermione

Canaan Way, Ottery Saint Catchpole, June 16th 1903

Dear Ginevra,

I must inform you I will take a short trip to London to spend some time with your brother. I tried to resist the temptation, to clothe my feelings in exquisite words and dilute their starkness like you suggested, but it was all in vain: I miss him even more than I could have believed, and I was prepared to miss him a good deal. I’m sorry this letter is really just a squeal of pain, but it’s incredible how essential Fred had become to me. On a lighter note, I’m proud of you and what you’re building with Harry. You deserve it.

Your loyal friend, Hermione

[lolacucaaa]

and finally, fred’s expressions!

[timetravelbypen]

An update! Some Edwardian Thasmin fluff to end the year with.

[schmem14]

Day 3: Werewolves

Summary: Sirius visits a brothel that specializes in dangerous tastes... he doesn't expect to fall in love. Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin CW: Edwardian AU, Brothels, Prostitution/Sex Work, Implied bestiality, Dubious consent, UHEA Rating: M

Written for @hpkinktober

[cherryirne]

She was looking.

She was looking

through the eyes of a feral animal,

but not a meek doe,

but a wounded deer.

She was looking,

and Her

lilac-white-green checkered dress

was speaking,

no,

even shouting

instead of Her.

She was looking

at me, and my unreasonable heart

broke its rhythm, excitedly beating the dance,

that is, it existed

on the verge of paradox and rationality,

and this intoxicating feeling

made my head feel lighter.

She was looking.

Her pompadour

was not coyly lush,

and her hat

sat on it very neatly,

but what do I care

about these details,

because Her movements and gestures,

Her dianic audacity

captivated me

much stronger than looks;

however -

She was looking, and I almost cried

from the blessed light

of the fire in my chest.

She was looking,

and Her earthy eyes

looked so good in this syringa-colored dress…

She was looking,

now She's my muse,

but that day

i did not know about it yet.

from n. jones to miss rita.

for my novel.

[inevitablemoment]

Okay, so seeing Carrie Coon in the trailer for Season 2 of The Gilded Age makes me want to work on an Edwardian AU.

A mystery, where estranged sisters Callie and Marie Spengler investigate the suspicious death of their father and the disappearance of their mother...

[ghouljams]

no thoughts just simon roughly undoing your corset at the end of the night. idk how he'd be there without it being seen as improper or whatever or maybe hes your husband but i feel like it'd send me into subspace so quick.. kinda similar to shibari? idk.

The times when he's rough with your stays are few and far between, mostly he unlaces the (newly) double stranded thing with blunt nails that slip against the laces. His own knots so carefully tied keeping you held tight in what may as well be his embrace. His signature is already neatly embroidered on your modesty panel, his words neatly penned in bleeding ink professing all the places his lips would touch. Scandalous delivered before he ever made it to your marriage bed, you might add.

Oh no, Simon is very... deliberate with your stays. Possessive, even. His knot is one you can't undo, one that even he sometimes resorts to pulling between his teeth. It's a security you can't go against, a lock whose only key is held by Simon. He won't even let your maid touch your laces. You sit for him and arch into his touch as he threads one line, then another, and another. His fingers skim your chemise, his breath just barely even. You hang your head to feel his teeth graze the top knob of your spine as he pulls you tight, and takes the first swell of your breath between his fingers.

It's a beautiful thing. A second spine borrowed from your husband's hand. How each crossed thread holds its own knot at the center, how each lace ladders itself to climb up the looping of Simon's signature, his name just barely visible under the knots and laces. No, he doesn't tear at your stays. Swear at them maybe. Tell you he won't tie them so tight next time, a lie. But never tear.

Cut? Well, now that's another thing entirely. And you'd be lying if you said the press of his blade along your spine, slowly carving out your trapped breath, didn't make you squeeze your legs around the hand he'd already buried between them.