#tmlau

[tonysawickis]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Clarke Griffin & Lexa Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Anya (The 100), Raven Reyes, Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Trans Male Character, trans man lexa AU, rated M for future chapters, Underage Drinking Summary:

Tomorrow was marked bright yellow in his calendar; it would be his first day on testosterone, and he couldn’t be happier about it. He’d waited years for this moment and the day had finally arrived. In less than 24 hours his journey would finally, officially, begin.

[fearhasaface]

                       DEI & NEM ME AU: { LISTEN }

vigil by mass effect // let the flames begin by paramore // future foe scenarios by silverrun pickups // warrior lord by polcia // protect life by eric serra // tomorrow by daughter // alienation by morning parade // angels on the moon by thriving ivory // not with haste by mumford and sons // every night by imagine dragons // i of the storm by of monsters and men // an end, once and for all by sam hulick

[tonysawickis]

Fight with Yourself and Your Thoughts in The Night

Chapter 3.

Before Alexander knew it, it was Friday. Butterlies were trying to escape through his stomach. He was counting down the hours until the party, but the pointer on the clock moved slower than ever.

Alexander knew there would be a lot of dancing involved; it was Octavia’s party after all. He couldn’t dance for the life of him. He would awkwardly stomp his feet on the ground, trying to hide that he had no sense of rhythm in him whatsoever. The best he could do was what he called the “confused walk dance;” taking a step forward as if he wanted to move to a different spot, then stepping backwards with the same foot as if he didn’t want to move to a different spot after all. Maybe he’d even throw in a jump here and there, who knew? Drunk Alexander was crazy.

Read on AO3.

[tasminxregina]

away with the explosives :: au

@thegoldennsickle

Her objectives had been crystal clear for years. Her plan had been laid out ages ago and thought over countless times. Her mind was a maze of preparations, facts, scenarios and outcomes. There wasn’t any time or space for anything else. Justice had to be served even if the crimes were old and forgotten by most. She had stalled for years, gathering intel and making sure her plans would not fail. Failure was not an option; mostly because she didn’t expect to survive after she had carried out her plans. If justice required sacrifice, she was glad to offer herself up as one.

Those had been her thoughts for years but as the date came closer and closer, she realised that no matter how cruely she punished those that had wronged an entire country, there would always be someone else who broke the law; who needed to be punished for their crimes. The world wouldn’t become ideal after her death. Someone needed to succeed her. And that someone became another bullet in the long list in her mind.

She searched for a long time and she found many who shared or should share the same disgust she did for the goverment and yet they all lacked in some form. She watched them all for days that turned into weeks and then into months and the list of names disappeared. Only one name remained. A good man, by all accounts, though good meant impassive these days. Impassive to the misjustice all around them. She hated that and couldn’t help but wonder just how impassive he could be if the horrors were just outside his door.

It was way after curfew but that had been her objective. She was familiar with the streets around his house; she had been watching him, after all, so she paced a few blocks away from there, her heels clicking on the pavement attracting attention in the dead silence of the night. They came crawling towards her like mice; rats to be exact. They followed her until she trapped herself in a dead end alley. She spared a look up and saw light in his window just as the men blocked her way out of the narrow street.

“Any unauthorised personnel will be subject to arrest. This is for your protection.” One man repeated the warning played out by the megahones. She turned around pretending to be startled and she stuttered an apology,  “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t be out past curfew. I know that.” She went on as they came closer. Their stance alone screamed that they were Fingermen; it was evident by the way they approached her trapping her further inside the alley. “Let me pass.” She demanded, her voice a little higher, more threatening. One of them reached inside his pocket and pulled his badge out, a sly smirk on his face. “You’re Fingermen. No, no, please, I didn’t know. I’m sor-”

“No, not yet, you’re not. But you will be. You’ll be the sorriest piece of ass in London.” They got even closer and she had to control herself not to end them right there and then. But that would be pointless; that would prove nothing and she needed proof that the last name on her list was worth the trouble. “And the sorest.” The second man grabbed her and she screamed, “Please, don’t do this. I’ll go home. I’ll never do it again. Please. I swear...” They laughed and she screamed again, her voice never reached such high notes, “No, please. Help me! SOMEBODY HELP!”

[thierrylockwood]

A World War I AU

Hugh Laurence Redmond was born December 20, 1892 in Newbridge, Oxford. His parents were incredibly wealthy, allowing him to have a good eduction. He has a younger sister that he loves very dearly. As soon as the war started, he was called in for duty. A few months beforehand, he finished his degree in Medicine. So he went to war but instead of soldier as a field doctor. This was his own choice, Hugh wanted to spend his life healing others and allowing them peace in their transition into the after life. He was placed in a mansion which was left by its owners, which the French had been using as a war hospital since. The hospital is very close to the front lines, so they get to see the soldiers who are on the brink of death and need their help. Being so close to the front line also brings its own dangers...

[freya-vadas]

Mr. and Mrs. Jager: A Modern Spy AU

@inked-in-the-stars

[caskofcastello-blog]

[inked-in-the-stars-blog]

Mr and Mrs Jager || Modern Spies AU

@freya-vadas

Mossad. The Institute. So final and so all consuming. It had been such since the formation of Israel, but since the yank of independence from the U.S, it was ever more so. Like a worm, it burrowed into the lives of every Israeli. Watching the Palestinians and anyone who showed inklings of sympathy. In a cruel comedy, the country had become the very thing it had been created to protect others from. A fascist controlling state, ever more paranoid about it’s neighbors and own citizenry since going into the wild from it’s old protector. 

Ariel Jager stared out at the white board that decorated his kitchen. The special forces trained spy, who had traveled the world under a million names, killed many whose identities will never be known and had missions and briefings be his whole world for most of his life thought upon...dinner. It was odd, how the simple things seeped into a complex life. It was slipping into the first year of his deep undercover role for the U.S government and only now was he getting even a whift of the documents he was tasked with obtaining. 

But even a double agents needed to cook, especially when they had fake wives to deal with. That was the hand he was dealt. Leave the U.S with his life and his world intact, but only as their new lackey and with a watcher. That came in the form of Talia Jager...not her real name of course, who sauntered the kitchen as he twirled the sharpie in his hands, seeming as unamused as always. Sometimes, in the twilight hours in their bed, he wondered how easy it would be to just choke the life out of her, so he wouldn’t have to see that unforgiving glare everyday. 

The daily sparing told him fairly difficult. Ariel’s thickly accented voice floated into the stiff silence between them, as he tossed his pen casually at her, as if testing her reactions. “Evening to you too.”