#modern history au

[ramsei501st]

in honor of laika coming back from the dead to release a new movie, a kubo of mine with some questionable summer fashion. im love he

inspired by @/kittarts' coraline art ;o;/

[skitastc]

Stupid Inkmare teacher AU idea that I stole somewhere

[the-colourful-witch]

🐉 A Brief History of Dragons by Eyra🐉

I read this fic last summer and it was so pretty. It’s super short and sweet and it was just what I needed at the time. It’s Wolfstar meets Arthurian legend, in a modern AU.

I wanted to do some more book covers for my portfolio, so I made this one.

I want to thank @eyra for the beautiful story, I loved it. This one is for you✨💛

Here’s a little work in progress for this cover.

Ps: I’m working on Andromeda right now, I’ve had a busy week. Hang in there💛

[starcurtain]

You know, one thing I haven't seen any Ratiorine fans take advantage of is that Aventurine is very specifically inspired by the Turkish Romani population, while Ratio clearly has Greek/Roman influence--both countries with long and often complicated histories with Turkey.

Everyone craving those sci-fi AUs, but where are my historical AUs at?

Where are all the "We come from rival nations but still found each other!" Romeo and Juliet-level dramas???

Where are all my period pieces with the fall of the Byzantine Empire for background flavor???

Where are all my "I am but a traveling scholar," "You're more like a fish out of water, friend!" strangers-to-lovers riding off into the desert sunset stories???

Come on, help a girl out!

[thursdaymoonrise11]

Modern AU: Hogwarts Legacy

Two seconds earlier...

A chance meeting in a bookshop📖✨

I really just wanted to draw Sebastian and Phoebe as if they were both living in North East London and are the most INSUFFERABLE, sustainable, soft boy/girl versions of themselves lol (and that isn't complete without the secret history, sally rooney and THOSE tote bags)

I had to really fight giving Seb a moustache

(and because everyone and their uncle is reading intermezzo atm)

[canisalbus]

Building up on both of does anon posts, Machete and Vasco being historical figures that make waves every so often on tumblr feels very canon and not too far from actual tumblr's favourite historical figures.

And also, I feel that Machete shouldn't go that unnoticed by scholars. Being this powerful member of the clergy that escaped many assassination attempts before being killed and had a personal relationship with the pope. Like this man was a deathly and important part of the inquisition, but also left behind rumours of a same-sex relationship with a married politician.

I can definitely see him becoming a point of interest for some historians, especially does who studied the inquisition or the clergy. That's probably how Vasco's paintings of him got discovered and documented and how their relationship stopping being considered a rumour started by his now-death enemies, but an actual theory with some weight behind it.

Idk why but I'm becoming very invested in the ways history would treat and remember them, way too many scandals and drama for them to be forgotten in time.

You do make a very convincing point.

People are getting so invested in their hypothetical in-universe reputation and are clearly putting some serious thought into it and it's getting me hyped up as well ;_;

[kiimarux]

cuvinte de duh

[demigodsanswer]

In Vino Veritas/ Royal AU

Modern royals au

~

Percy tapped his foot nervously as his father stared at him. It was never a great sign when his dad needed to speak with him. Percy was not, by any means, an important part of the Spanish monarchy: fourth son of the king's brother. He was basically a socialite with a funny social media presence, handsome face, and a memorable ocean-themed back tattoo.

His father continued to stare at him, and Percy was sure the strength of his gaze was only making his hangover worse. Annabeth had dared him to steal a bottle of scotch from the event's bar last night, and he'd stolen an even fancier one on principle. When they woke up, too much of it was gone.

"Did you," his father finally said, "have sex with the heir to the Swedish throne last night?"

Percy laughed. "What? No, of course not."

Oh he had, he so had. Scotch or not, he couldn't forget that. His clothes still smelled like her. His dad didn't need to know that though. Whatever someone thought they saw, or whatever hotel room they thought he went into last night, they could just deny. Who gave a shit about the Spanish or Swedish monarchies anyway? Percy was barely even a Spanish citizen. He'd gone to Yale for fucks sake. He had a loft in New York.

"I'll ask again," his dad said, turning his computer around so the screen faced Percy. "Did you have sex with Annabeth Chase, against a window in a Paris hotel room last night?"

The Sun had posted a large, but blurry photo of two people pressed against a window. The blonde woman was looking out, most of her body covered by the man, who's back was against the glass. There was another one, one where the woman's face, and more notably her jewels (literally, not her breasts. Her gown was still on) was visible. The man's shirt was off.

It was the first time Percy regretted his back tattoos. And those were certainly some famous heirloom jewels from Sweden. And that was certainly Annabeth's gorgeous, gorgeous face, blurry as it was.

Percy sunk down in the chair. His phone started to buzz.

Annabeth

"I'll assume that's the princess," his father said. "We'll talk later about how we're going to clean up this mess."

~

They'd seen each other at some fancy event at the Louvre. With her blonde curls pinned in an elaborate up-do, the back of her neck was exposed.

Percy had mostly been raised in New York by his mother. The man he considered basically his older brother, Luke, had taught him a thing or two about the thrills of stealing. Luke was American old money, probably a Kennedy somewhere down the line, and he'd taught him how to oh so carefully --

Percy slipped the clasp on Annabeth's necklace.

"Oh!" She gasped, reaching for her neck, but missing it before it fell. Percy swooped around and caught it before the jewels hit the ground.

"You dropped this," he said. "May I?"

Annabeth didn't look entertained. She was giving him the I'm so scary look. But after four years on rival mock trial teams (Yale won Nationals almost every year, fuck you Harvard), he was used to it.

"May I?" He offered.

"You may not," she said, handing him her Champaign flute, before taking her necklace back and re-clasping it herself.

"Be careful with that, smart ass," he said, "you know what they do to monarchs in France."

She took her glass back, and her face softened. "It's good to see you again, Percy. Are you still in New York?"

"Most of the time," he said. "I see you've been busy entertaining men in Sweden. Looking for a royal husband?"

"Why? Do you want your name added to my list?" She asked, stepping closer to him. "I'm allowed to marry non-Royals now. My dad changed the rules."

"I'm in the line of succession," Percy protested.

"Barely," she pushed back.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not a cousin or uncle or something," Percy said.

"Inbreeding jokes from someone in the Spanish royal family?" She asked. Percy tried not to let her know he'd been trumped. It was a dumb move. She ran a hand over his jaw. "You do have a strong chin. How much Hapsburg is left in your line?"

"Very funny, Princess," he said. She always blushed when he called her that.

The deserts were wheeled out. "Should I let you eat cake?" She asked.

"After you," he said.

~

The event dragged on, but he and Annabeth only got more bubbly on glass after glass of Champaign. When she dared him to steal the bottle of scotch, she leaned in close, her hand on his thigh under the table, running up until the princess was groping him in public.

"If I do --" he started.

"We'll go back to my room and share it," she said.

"How drunk are you?" He asked. He was decently tipsy himself. He'd probably feel drunker the moment he stood up.

"Sober enough to know I want to do this, drunk enough to act on it," she said.

"Well that's the perfect amount," he said, before standing quickly before she could get him noticeably hard.

Stealing the bottle was easy. Keeping his hands off of her until they were back at her hotel was the real challenge.

And he failed.

Miserably. She rolled up the partition as his hand slid under her dark blue gown for the first, but not last, time that night.

~

"So, what, do we need to get married now or ..." Percy asked.

Annabeth laughed on the other side of the call. "Don't be ridiculous. This is barely a sex scandal."

"Really? Because my dad seems to think the Swedes are about to invade Spain for what I did."

"What we did," she corrected. "I called because my team is going to run a press release, mostly about the gross invasion of privacy that this was," Percy was glad he decided to have her keep the dress on for their first round. It kept the world from seeing her totally naked. "But then they are going to confirm that we were friends in college."

"No, we were rivals, and I will never forgive you for getting the number one attorney award at ORCS. It should have been me, and you know it."

"You shouldn't have let your witness do a Swedish accent if they couldn't speak Swedish," she shot back. "But, does your team want to sign off on it?" She asked, getting back on track.

"Send it over," Percy said. "I'm sure it's fine, but I have a feeling no one here is going to trust my judgement in the near future."

"Sorry," she said.

"Don't be," Percy insisted. "Are you still in Paris?" He asked.

"Yes. They haven't cut my head off yet," Annabeth said.

"And thank god, because your head is incredible," he teased. She scoffed on the other line. "Since we are such good friends from college," he started, "would you want to get dinner tonight?"

"Is this a PR stunt?" She asked.

"This is a take-Annabeth-out stunt," Percy said. "It's earnest. It has nothing to do with paparazzi."

"I don't know. The paparazzi are there no matter what, and bad things happen to blonde princesses and their lovers in Paris," Annabeth said.

"Well then, why don't you just come here, and I'll cook for you," he suggested. "There's better security anyway."

There was a long pause before: "Okay, send me the details."

[tsukkishimwah]

I Met My Ex-High-School-Crush-Slash-Unresolved-Situationship After Six Years And He’s Hitting On Me!? (Part 1)

[tanjir0se]

I am begging you people to stop headcanoning your favs to either grow up to be cops or be cops in a modern au. on god no hate but literally what the hell is wrong with you.

[syrupsyche]

:O What does teacher au Bahorel do?

HI EMILE!!! Here is teacher!Bahorel!

Made him a history teacher because could you IMAGINE him in a History department meeting with Enjolras and Javert?? (And Feuilly, but we haven't talked about teacher!Feuilly publicly on Tumblr yet 🫣)

[breaker0fdays]

Small and quick WIP of Hadrian and Antinous in the modern day

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

To Whisper Your Name pt.1

Konig x Reader Roman Goddess AU

Warnings: Violence ( minor character deaths), Roman deity inaccuracies, history inaccuracies, talks of SA 

Reader is loosely based on the Roman Goddess Felicitas (Goddess of good fortune and luck)

It is not rare for minor gods/ goddesses to go unthought of. Some rise to fame as others are forgotten. Not many remember the deities of flowers, trees, or other smaller things. They remember Jupiter, Neptune, Venus. The greats, the Gods. Smaller gods go about their lives enjoying the few who do remember them. The small alters the mortals create for them, adorned with what is associated with said deity. They get offerings, praise, songs sung in their name.

Others are forgotten. Some deities share common rulings and the more famous deity gets the praise. They get the offerings, the songs, the alters. They get the memories. The smaller deity is left to watch humanity progress, knowing they are nothing to them but a passing face. Some grow depressed, heartbroken to be forgotten. Some grow mad, killing those who pray to the more famous deity. Most are unhappy or indifferent. They are too out of touch with humanity, differences between God and mortals being too many to connect with one another. 

Despite all, you connect. The goddess of good fortune and luck, or as I should say, the small goddess of good fortune and luck. Throughout time, as you were forgotten and Fortuna rose to fame, you assimilated with the mortals. The fascination overtaking the grief pushed you to live among them. You aren’t well known among your village, just a simple face that passes by occasionally. Your home resides along the lake, a small and hidden house, property of an old man you met years before. You became like family to him, knowing who you are, he did his research. He offered you home, community, he offered you the human experience. 

It was a quiet life, predictable, quaint. You go to the fishing grounds, bless the unsuspecting fishermen. You do the same to the cloth weavers, the doctors, the children playing. None may know, but fortune is on their side. It was a simple existence, a comfortable one. 

A change happened at nightfall. Taking a late night walk was common, having no need for sleep. You’d walk a few miles, stay in a tree, maybe take a swim, then head back to your home. Tonight was no different. You opted to stay in a tree in a nearby forest, taking in the night sky, constellations seeming to taunt you with an unknown reason. Memories of when you were among the other deities fill your mind, a bittersweet taste left in your mind. Shouting and the crunching of twigs below rip you from your thoughts, whimpers from women below causing the hair on your arms to stand up.

Below, you see a small group of women with their arms shackled to a long chain. There are 2 men, daggers glinting in the moonlight. There’s no torch, no lantern, to light their way. It’s clear they are trying to be unseen, to steal these women. They adorn Roman clothing, as do the women, and seem to be heading away from the village. 

“Please I’m begging you, I have children! They have no father and no one to look for them” A woman begs shakily.

“Then we will be back for them. I know someone who would pay bronze for youth like them” A man cackles and shoves the woman for her noise.

“Oh Gods, Please save us, if you can hear me” A woman whispers, kissing her hands and raising them to the sky.

Her voice is so broken, as if she's unable to conjure hope. Heart aching for these women but unable to physically intervene, you bless them.

“Luck be upon you” Falls from your lips in the form of a whisper.

As they are almost gone, a branch snapping catches the men's attention. Heads whipping in the direction of the noise was their first mistake. A soldier in Roman attire sneaks behind the leading man, dagger cutting through his throat as if it were simply fat. 

The other three men turn and draw their weapons, preparing for attack. Their stance resembles that of a cornered, angry cat. One other soldier emerges from the dark. His towering frame, only being able to be described as a giant, unsheathed his sword from his holster. The glare from the moonlight shining off his sword gives an eerie and unsettling feeling in an already disturbing situation. 

“Give in and come willingly, or face the same fate as your foolish leader” His voice is higher pitched than expected, yet still effectively intimidating. His accent is foreign, sounding from the north. 

Ignorance clearly being their strong suit, the smugglers charge at the giant, only to be met immediately with a blade. The first one falls and seconds later, the other one is ripped through, practically in half, blood spilling like a never ending prayer. The men are ripped through like a tarp, eyes widening and dulling over.

 The last man remaining drops his weapon, falling to his knees like a worshiper to their God. The giant stalks towards him, gripping his hair and tilting him back. You can feel the fear radiating off of the smaller man's body, most likely praying to the gods as the women they stole did. 

“Your incompetence fails you. What were you planning for them?” He demands, gesturing to the women. They cower under the man's gaze.

The man remains silent, his mouth gaping like a fish, in search of words.

“Have mercy, please!” He begs, tears seeming to form.

The giant chuckles in an unamused manner, “Were you to have mercy on them? The gods have turned their backs on you. Now I will ask you again” He grips tighter, voice low and in a low growl, “What. Were. You. Planning? Who is your superior?”

The man refuses to answer and is swiftly met with a blade, as he serves no purpose. The giant and his partner turn their attention to the women, moving to remove their shackles. The women seem more frightened of them than they did the men that stole them. Perhaps it's because these men are soldiers, making it easy for them to be overpowered. 

“Where are you from?” The giant asks a woman as he removes the shackles. The woman says she was visiting her family in a nearby village when the men came. The other women say something similar.

“It seems they had a type. Easily able to make them disappear if they only have a couple connections in a different village.” The other man states, the giant nodding. 

They move the women to the same town you live in, keeping them in a new location until they find the leader of whatever ring they were getting sold into. You climb down the tree and quietly follow behind. The women are escorted to a separate cluster home and the men head to what seems to be a military station building.

Before the giant walks into the building, he looks behind him out of habit and spots you already looking at him. You quickly turn and walk away, not trying to attract unwanted attention. You make it to the lake before you hear a twig snap, someone being with you. Knowing who it is, you don't even bother to turn around, staying still. 

“Why did you run?” He asked in an accusatory tone, walking up to you. His frame towers over you, his shadow overtaking yours. You turn towards him, finally meeting his eyes. His face is covered in a cloth, his eyes being the only exposed area. His gaze is stern, like that of a king. 

“I've never seen a soldier like you before” you lie seamlessly, appearing innocent, “When you saw me, I worried I would possibly provoke you. Some soldiers around here hate when we stare”

He looks down at you, head slightly tilting. In mock or curiosity, you can't tell. There’s a long pause of silence, neither of you moving.

“Sir?” You ask quietly, “May I go back home now? I fear it will worry my family if I am out too late”

“You will meet me in the town square tomorrow at dusk,” He states, turning to walk away, “I will find you if you fail to come. Do not make that mistake, flos”

[fusionfanatic]

Research for an au fic I’m working on: how would Azula act and behave in a modern setting? And I don’t mean re-imagine her character within a modern context and stories. This isn’t Azula, but she’s an overachieving American high schooler with strict and overbearing parents, or Azula, but she’s the soon-to-be CEO of her father’s multinational conglomerate based in Japan or something. No, I mean how would Azula as she is in canon, Fire nation princess and all, act and behave if you simply just took her from her world and plopped her into [insert current year you’re reading this]?

[lordcastaway]

wish you a happy 1825, have some sketches

[pobodleru]

A couple of days ago I met a beautiful woman in the Moscow metro. She was holding a Starbucks cup in her hands, but inside there was not coffee, but earth and a few petals in it.

This looks absolutely like Josephine in modern AU. I’m sure she would also steal a sprout of a plant she liked from the cafe for her garden.