#Prohibition AU

[nerdzewordart]

It's finally here! I've been so excited to share my works for the MDZS RBB, and I can't be more pleased with how both the art, and @damshtrina's wonderful fic (Which you can find here!)

[0dahv11ng]

What's a Mogul to a Farmer?

In 1920's New York, the prohibition act spreads throughout neighborhoods and businesses. The group of The Elite take it upon themselves to open a chain of undercover jazz club speakeasies under various business models. Tonight they hire some up and coming stars- Swerve Strickland and The Mogul Embassy. 'Hangman' Adam Page has taken a specific liking to the group's singer, Swerve; and navigates it throughout their first meeting. Where will the night(s) take them?

Words: 1.6k & crossposted on AO3

elite/bcc/strickpage prohibition era cozy jazz vibes yes or no.

A/N: this idea came to me in a vision when i was on an airplane listening to jazz. i hyperfixated too close to the sun. this feels like the silliest and cheesiest thing ive ever written- please write me some feedback! this was supposed to be the elite/the bcc but it just turned into strickpage sorry not sorryyyy. i dont know if i executed it quite like how i wanted to but hopefully the vibes are there! enjoy :3 (there will be more chapters depending on how this is recieved!!)

Tranquil jazz echoed throughout the ballroom filled with people. A man with a trumpet was illuminated by a soft spotlight coming from above, his skin glowing in the warm light. Another man was scatting along with his band mate’s trumpet, the bassist and drummer goading them along as they sang together in harmony. 

From across the floor a group of men sat near the bar as they watched the crowd dance together in synchrony. There were the members of the famous gang the Elite. They were known across the streets of New York for their variety of modern speakeasies they had decided to open in the height of prohibition. This one in particular was located in the basement of  a wrestling school. Their uprising in popularity had made their hidden bars big attractions for events like tonight.

“Say, what a voice that guy has.” Nick, the younger of the brothers comments. “We’ll have to keep him in mind for next time.”

“I’d say so. He seems to be well liked.” Matt nodded as he raised his glass to his mouth.

“Especially by the ladies.” A man with longer curly hair joins the conversation as he claps a firm hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“Kenny,” Matt glanced up at him. “Glad you could make it. You made a good choice booking this one tonight.”

The man nods and sits down at their table. “He’s an up and coming star. Feels like all of New York is talking about ‘Swerve’ and his musical talents. He’s awfully attra-”

“How about another round?” The fourth man, and frankly most silent man in the conversation quickly clears his throat and stands up.

“I think we’re okay Hanger,” Kenny shifts in his seat and glances over to the two brothers before asking, “Everything alright?”

The ‘Hangman,’ Adam Page adjusts his cowboy hat and strolls away from their table without saying another word. He went to lean on the bar to order another whiskey, but the singer’s voice distracted him as he closed out his song. Cheers and applause dispersed as the singer grabbed on to his microphone. Adam watched him intently. His face, his clothes, his voice. He called himself Swerve Strickland, and formally introduced his band to the crowd as the Mogul Embassy. Another round of applause rose as he thanked everyone for attending, and the Elite for hosting.

Swerve and his band cleared from the stage to allow the next entertainer to take residency. Doing their best to make their way through the sea of people, they started getting closer to the corner the Elite occupied. Adam started to feel anxious. What could he say to him? Could he even bring up the courage to speak? Why was he suddenly so flustered by this man? They had held events similar to this night after night, and yet, for some reason he had never been so intimidated. He looked on as Swerve walked up to the managers. They shook hands and exchanged laughs before Swerve and his band took a seat at the table. 

It took Adam a few minutes, but he took his glass of whiskey and brought himself over to their table. He glanced around for Kenny and he found him on the dance floor. He immediately diverted his gaze from Kenny and the man he was dancing with. Kota. That’s a subject for another time, he pondered. He let out a soft exhale and watched the group interact with each other. 

“So the name, I have to ask,” Matt questioned with a chuckle. “How did you come up with such a thing?”

“Well,” Swerve glanced around the table of men. “It’s inspired by my mother. She always wanted me to be a big businessman and follow in my family’s footsteps. Just not for me. So I decided to poke fun at it and call my team of boys here the Mogul Embassy.” 

He turned his head to the looming figure standing with an arm resting on Matt’s seat. His golden curls caught the glimmer of lights flashing off a mirror-ball, a glass in his hands. Although he thought it was his imagination, he was still catching glances from this man just like he had earlier on stage. There’s something off. He thought.

“That is just inspiring.” Matt leaned back in his chair with crossed arms. He looked over to the crowd of people dancing to a song being sung by a singular woman in a sheer robe and flapper attire. He looked back over to the table to crane his neck behind himself at Adam. A soft smile was shared between them. “Care for a dance, Hanger?”

He looked down to his friend and chuckled back at him. “No, Matt.” He stepped back. “Thank you though. You’ll have to save one for me.” Downing the rest of his whiskey, he set it on the table before once again turning on his heels to walk away. He stumbled up the stairs next to the bar to make his way back up to the main floor to get some fresh air. 

“Hanger?” Swerve was intrigued by the nickname, diverting the attention back to the table as everyone watched Adam disappear. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Nick laughed and stood up. “Well fellas, I think Matt needs a dance. Thank you again for coming tonight, it was an honor to meet you. Feel free to step up to the bar or join us for a dance!” He glanced down at Matt, still sitting in his chair with his arms crossed. “I need to get my brother a dance partner.”

Swerve stood with Nick to shake his hand and thank him in turn. He gave a friendly wave to his band mates and made his way to where the man had left. He hiked up steep steps leading to a hallway with the speakeasy’s admission host. “Have you seen a cowboy around here?”

“Ah.” The tall man nodded. “The Hangman. He just went up to the roof. Make your way through the combat club and take a left. You’ll find the stairs there.”

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

“Hangman?”

Adam turned on his heels away from the view of the New York skyline to face the voice coming from behind him. His blue eyes locked with a pair of dark brown ones now standing directly across from him. The sudden eye contact made him shuffle in place and he looked down. His hand rested on his belt buckle, an old quirk he never seemed to shake off.

“Caught you off guard?” Swerve stepped closer to him. “My apologies.”

“You’re-” He cleared his throat. “No worries.” Adam’s eyes caught Swerve’s once again. He intently held up his gaze, doing his best to come off calm.

“The Hangman,” Swerve reiterated, shoving his hands into his over-sized jacket. The fur lining blew gently in the wind. “How does one end up with a name like that?”

“Just,” he stuttered with the slightest southern drawl. “An old nickname. From back home.”

“Back home?”

“Down south.” He looked back out to the city. “S’Where I met Matt and Nick. Came all the way from the California coast to my little town in Virginia on their way up to the big city.”

“You’re a cowboy, then.” Swerve gestured to him with a nod.

“If you’d like to call it that way.” Adam softly smiled and rested his elbows on the edge of the rooftop barricade. “How about you, Mogul?”

“Pops served in the war and somehow we ended up here.” He joined Adam at the barricade, shoulders nearly touching. Adam glanced down at their closeness and felt his breath hitch in his throat. Swerve was still talking yet he couldn’t focus on anything but the soft breeze that was directing the smell of his sharp cologne in his direction. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Adam’s head shot up with a furrowed brow. He opened his mouth to speak but his breath stuttered in his lungs. His mouth closed as he made eye contact with Swerve. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Adam’s mouth opened right back up as he stared at the man next to him. 

“I’m alright.” He stuttered. “I’m just fine, thank you.” There was silence as Swerve slowly cocked his head to the side. Adam sighed and looked back out to the sky. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” A large smile graced Swerve’s face. “But I know you want to talk to me. I’ve been watching you watch me all night.”

A deep red blush crept its way across Adam’s entire face. All he could do was sigh and put his head in his hands. 

“Well if you need me,” Swerve straightened his back as he stood up from the barricade. “Here’s where you can reach me. Write to me whenever you feel.” He took a small piece of paper out of his coat pocket and waved it in the air. Adam looked over from his hands and watched Swerve as he put the slip in Adam’s own pocket.

“Thank you.” He sighed again. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

Swerve started to back away towards the door. “No need, cowboy. I’d like to know how Virginia is. I’m betting on you to tell me.”

“I won’t let you down.” A pondering grin spread across the Hangman’s face. He began moving closer to Swerve. “You know, my real name is Adam. Adam Page.”

“Nice to meet you, Adam.” His back hit the door. He let out a small shudder as he watched Adam raise his hand.

He took Swerve's hand in a firm handshake, his other hand going to his shoulder. "Pleasure."

[zybynarx]

Here are the art pieces I did for the @rewritetheages bang event! I got to work with the amazing @thebatmandiaries who came up with an incredible story, which you can read HERE!

More artist comments under the "Read more" break, but long story short, I had a blast reading through the story and working with my partner on this! It's been super fun and I'm happy and proud of what we came up with!

Alright... so, once upon a time when I got into the Supernatural fandom... I myself had come up with a Destiel 1920's AU. The AU plagued my mind for a good couple of years! I drew fanart, I attempted to write stuff out, but ultimately I just sort of "wrote it in my head" and then left it at that when it was done.

This was back in like... 2014... fast-forward to 10 years later, and the summary for a 1920's DeanCas AU caught my eye during art claims. I thought the summary was really intriguing and I like the vibes for those Prohibition days (I slightly blame my older sis for her fascination of the mafia and their history rubbing off on me XD ). As I began drawing, I knew I needed the right mood music to keep me in the zone. I remembered jamming out to the Great Gatsby soundtrack when it first came out, so I thought it would work. As soon as the first song played, I was INSTANTLY transported to my earlier SPN fandom days and I remembered this AU.

It felt like such a sweet little celebration for me, and it made me want to do justice to my author's fantastic story even more! Seriously, I was hooked from only the first few paragraphs! I love the description and the pacing of the story. The scenes that always stood out to me the most was when Dean and Cas were talking, so I knew that was what I wanted to try and bring to life with my main drawing.

This was the colored version I had initially done for the bang, but then I thought, "Heh, wouldn't it be funny if I made it black & white too? Just like in the old times!" I sent both versions to my author and they loved the vibe of the black & white drawing, so we decided to go with that! I still wanted to show off the colored version though! So here you are!

Both the main artwork and the banner had their challenges. There were times when my bestie and art bestie had to cheer me on as I was screaming in a slight panicked confusion on how the heck I was going to get everything looking right. But I really am happy with how both of these turned out! And I feel so incredibly grateful and honored to have been able to work with such a talented author!

With that being said, again, go check out the story!

[autumnmobile12]

Defying the Volstead Act: Illicit Affairs

“We came to America for a better life and what did we find?  Enforced sobriety.” ~ Trevor Belmont

Castlevania Prohibition AU

I’m having way too much fun with this one.  Alucard is too powerful, Sypha is adorable, and Trevor’s just done.  Definitely gonna be drawing more characters in this au, stay tuned!

[xxdreamersdesirexx]

Self ship prohibition/noir era AU Asks

Get emoji asks in your inbox, or answer any questions you feel like.

🔫 Are F/O and S/I lawmen or crooks, or something else? Are they on the same side?

👔 What are F/O and S/I wearing? Suits or slinky dresses?

👒 What kind of hat do S/I and F/O prefer?

🍸 At the speakeasy; what are F/O and S/I ordering from the bar?

🎷 Do F/O and S/I go dancing? Who leads and who follows?

🃏 Do F/O or S/I play any games? Poker? Blackjack? Pool? Darts?

🚗 Between F/O and S/I– who’s driving and who’s firing shots out the window?

🎶 What song would you pick for S/I and F/O for this AU?

🚬 Do F/O or S/I smoke in this AU? What do they smoke?

🫂 How would F/O and S/I meet in this AU?

[sliebman10]

Snippet:

The theatre was lit up and Remus couldn’t help but stare. Greyback had invited him and his father to see vaudeville with him in the early days, but it had been a long time since he’d been inside. 

Sirius looked around for the box office window, but it had a “sold out” sign on it and was dark. He looked around for a few moments, then approached one of the ushers. He spoke to him for a moment. The usher looked skeptical. Sirius slipped a couple bucks into the usher’s hand and he escorted them to the balcony, where they stood in the back, in the ‘standing room’ area. 

The show was about to start and Sirius scanned the audience through his opera glasses. 

“He’s there,” Sirius said, passing the glasses to Remus. Remus looked through in the direction Sirius was pointing. He saw the familiar graying head in a box on house right. “Who’s he got with him?” Sirius asked, his pen poised over his notebook.

“Looks like…” Remus adjusted the opera glasses. “Avery and Snape.”

Sirius snorted derisively. “Best of the lot, are they?”

Remus shook his head, amused. “Something like that.”

The curtain went up and the show began. Remus forgot they weren’t strictly there to see the show because he was enchanted by what he saw onstage. However, he was brought back to reality during intermission when Sirius led him down the stairs to Greyback’s box. 

Read more here.

Read from the beginning.

@wolfstarbingo2023

[llflorence]

Thumb Strings (on AO3) by LLflorence

Rated: E for Spinneret Kink (Yes, the wrussy)

Prohibition AU, Cartoonist!Peter, CopyEditor!Wade, Identity Porn, Suspense, Murder Mystery, Team Red

“Aw, come on,” Wade joked, laying down another line of nickels at a water gun game. “You were only off by, what, an inch?”

“Try six,” Peter corrected, liking very much the neat row of teeth behind two soft-looking lips. It was dark enough outside now that Peter only caught glimpses of those blue eyes, mostly when they reflected the gleam of lights as Wade stared at Peter’s face.

Wade refused each and every prize he was awarded, explaining he was just doing it for the practice. Every one, that was, until they happened upon one of those coin-rolling machines. The kind that pressed it flat and imprinted the date and time into the newly shaped copper.

Wade slipped in a penny and turned the crank, straining and groaning as he pretended it was too difficult for him to work. Peter laughed, the first time he had in months, and Wade actually tipped his hat back to look properly at Peter.

“You’ve got a great laugh,” he said, sounding genuinely wholesome, but making Peter’s face go hot with the compliment. It was becoming easier and easier to gaze into that face and find it symmetrical, young, handsome. Peter found he had to look down at the ground to not give away that he was considering asking the man out for a cup of coffee the following day.

Read on AO3

[laiqualaurelote]

chapter two: any bootlegger sure is a pal of mine

“Steve Rogers,” said the redhead. She was sitting on Tony’s desk in a little black number with a fringe of jet beads. Her hair was different from the first night he had seen her in the Arc; now it was flawlessly marcelled and woven through with dusky pearls. She uncrossed and crossed her legs; Steve glimpsed the glint of a knife in her garter, and knew she had meant for him to see it. “You’ve been snooping.”

“Ma’am,” said Steve, trying to keep his voice level. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“They call me the Black Widow.” Her flat accent was not American; it was not anything. She spoke utterly without provenance or affect.

“Sorry for your loss.”

In Jazz Age New York, aspiring artist Steve Rogers enters a glittering underworld of speakeasies, gangsters and spies, presided over by the maddeningly enigmatic Tony Stark. 1920s Prohibition era!AU

[matrica-a-novelized-actual-play]

Hiatus continues, so have another Prohibition AU doodle! Sieger is probably one of the major design departures, seeing as how the real world doesn’t have tieflings. He kind of has cop energy, but maybe there was corruption in the force, so he quit. Hence why he just looks like a badass P.I.

(We also imagine that both he and Yufi served in WWI, the closest analog to our in-fiction conflict. AU Sieger was maybe a POW and suffered some sort of traumatic head injury. After the allies win, he’s alive and rescued but still doesn’t remember shit.)

[fawnonframe]

[saturninesunshine]

“War had a sense of freedom. When he returned home, he was powerless to the whims of Lucrezia Borgia. And it was driving him mad."

Eventually, Cesare has to cave to the wishes of his sister. But he would be lying if he said that the thought of his hands wrapped around the throat of Giovanni Sforza didn't give him a perverse thrill. It was the only thrill he could get anymore.

That of perversion.

[himboblackdragon]

#imagining him in the 1920s#he'd be the most dignified and suave boss in the whole game#and the best dressed#lol

(via mount-everwhite)

[autumnmobile12]

Defying the Volstead Act: We Play What We Play

The forge master duo and Lenore playing for the speakeasy.

Castlevania Prohibition AU

The trombone is a left-handed trombone.  I definitely did not draw it backwards.  Not at all.  Don't worry about it.

[bixels]

trying something very radical and weird with one of the pony redesigns as a villain. can anyone guess who this is supposed to be?

[sliebman10]

I realized I never did this, but I posted the last chapter of Hanging the Moon.

Snippet:

“Looking good, nephew,” Alphard said, as he handed them both flutes of champagne as they came down the stairs.

“Same to you, uncle,” Sirius replied, kissing his uncle on the cheek. Alphard was wearing a suit of deep burgundy with a matching top hat. His partner, Florean, Sirius had learned, was nearby greeting other guests. 

These guests were different from the hangers on that attended Walburga and Orions’s parties. Alphard and Florean had met many of them attending masquerade balls in Harlem or attending theatre performances in the Bowery. Sirius looked around, in awe of the fact that all of these people were like him. 

Remus looked around, in awe of the colorful crowd assembled. Some of the men were dressed as flamboyantly as Alphard. Some were more reserved. Some were wearing dresses. Sirius smirked to himself as he thought of what his mother would say. Then he turned to Remus.

“Shall we dance, darling?”

Remus nodded, and Sirius led him to the area near where the band was playing. He put his arms around Remus and drew him close, enjoying the music. Remus wrapped his arms around him securely. One song flowed into another and Remus tipped his chin up and kissed him. It wasn’t something they would have done in front of other people except for in the middle of this particular crowd. Remus’s lips were soft, with champagne bubbles still clinging to them. It felt like time stopped around them, as they kissed in the middle of the dance floor. 

Read the rest of Chapter 8 here.

Read from the beginning.

@wolfstarbingo2023

[far-from-official]

i think we should explode you