film noir!au

Picture this, folks. New York. January. Cold like a loveless marriage, the sort that turns around and shivs you just for something to do. Snow gone brown and mushy. Grey sky, and the clouds look like tobacco smoke against it. Probably taste like it too, and piss out bourbon when they rain - the city’s got that kind of feel to it. And me, traipsing through the alley like a damn schmuck on a case that’s locked up tighter than a whorehouse to beggar. I’ve been on this thing for thirty six hours and it’s gone straight to hell with a manic grin and a trail of bodies to mark the way.

Am I being screwed over? Like a choir boy on an altar, but a case is a case. You don’t hire a guy like me if you’ve got an easy one and this is so far from an easy one I may as well get a new passport and emigrate. I’ve had two guys try to drop me and I’m getting fucking sick of being shot at, and the church that was supposed to be my next lead is a pile of smoking rubble with a corpse or two thrown in as a fun freebie to brighten my day. Nothing cheers you up like learning that your kidnapping case went murderous on you. Better than Christmas come eleven months early and leaving a pipe bomb in your stocking, and Santa being a dick who drank the last of the booze and stuck an IOU note to the empty flask.

How did I get myself here? Well. It started with this dame. Scamander, that was the name, friend of Queenie’s sister, something like that - Queenie comes over to my desk all smiles like she couldn’t stick a stiletto through your heart and twist it. Says she has a case for me, says I’ll like this one. Says I should open the window and let some sunlight in the room before I choke on the gloom, but all that would do is swap the smoke from inside for the smog from outside and it’s high quality smoke in my office. I ain’t trading that for the cheap shit they breathe in the street.

“Don’t be shy honey,” she says to the dame. “Graves don’t bite. He talks big, but he’s a real softy on the inside.”

You’re a star, Queenie. A real diamond in the shitpile of life. God only knows why I keep you around.

She ushers the dame in, and I prepare myself for the usual schtick. Been doing this job for long enough now that I know the trope: red dress, killer heels, flashier jewels than a doll their age could afford but the kind of makeup that says exactly where they got the money from. Drop a bit of leg on the desk, bat their eyes and take the sort of drag on their cigarette that a guy would usually pay to see, dump a case on me that no sane detective would ever take.

Joke’s on them; they can lean forwards all they want, but this detective is as bent as politician’s morals. Nice assets darling, but they do exactly squat for me. I take the cases. I solve the cases, because that’s what I do. And then I charge them through the fucking nose for the privilege and drop their pretty jewels off at the pawn shop on my way home. It pays the bills.

So I’m sat there, bracing myself for more of the same, and Queenie steps back as the dame comes through.

I swear my heart took one look and decided to do the fucking charleston against my ribs. One of the routines which is all kicks and flailing like an epileptic flamingo and some idiot shredding a ukulele in the background.

“Take a seat, sweetie,” Queenie says, and I can see on her face that she knows exactly what her new case is doing to me. If I wasn’t so close to cardiac arrest I’d say something about that, but I focus on remembering to breathe instead. “You want anything? Coffee, tea, can I get you a slice of something nice?”

“Whiskey,” I croak out, and Queenie ignores me.

“Oh,” the dame says, and fuck if his voice isn’t liquid honey and ice cream in summer. Fuck. “No, I’m good. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” He ducks his head and looks up through a curly ginger fringe. Pain starts shooting down my left arm as my heart gives out.

“Don’t be silly,” Queenie scolds. “I’ll get you a tea, you just wait right there.” 

He smiles, all bashful and shy, and I start praying because I’ve lived through a lot in the comedic shitshow that’s my life but this? This is what’s going to kill me.

“So Mr Scamander,” I say in a strangled attempt at a drawl. “I hear you have a case for me?”

He nods, quick and jittery like, and reaches into his pocket for a photo. When he unfolds it it shows some miserable fuck with a haircut not even a mother could love and I swear, this better not be his boyfriend. My life is trouble enough without the inevitable fallout when I steal the guy’s dame from under his nose. Because I will. I’ll feel bad about it, sure, but morals are a luxury I’m miles too broke to afford and opportunities like this don’t come often enough to pass them by.

“This is Credence. He’s my…” He pauses. It’s a long pause, one that drags on too long as he searches for the words, and I can tell you this because I wasn’t breathing during it and my chest was on fucking fire by the time he picked up again. “He’s family. And he’s missing, and I wanted - I was hoping - you think you can find him, Mr Graves?”

And see, you don’t come to a dive like this with a basic missing person’s case like that. My brain’s as pickled as my liver from all the spirits I’ve soaked it in, but I ain’t blind enough not to spot that there’s something more going on here. I shoulda chucked the dame out the window and told him to keep the change for trying to pull a fast one on me, or at the very least grilled him like a flambe steak until he spilled the beans.

He leans forward and bites his lip, big eyes all wide and bad news writ over him like a twenty foot billboard and fuck me sideways with a jazz band.

My will’s in my left shoe and Queenie, the traitor, is inheriting the business and every dime of the debt that comes with it. 

For the anon who asked for a Film Noir AU for Obi-Wan and Satine:

(I went with a late 1940′s look)

I figure Satine would be the elegant and mysterious Lady in Trouble, and Obi-Wan would likely be her lawyer, defending her against false allegations in the courtroom and falling under her spell.

Bonus:

Padme as an intrepid lady reporter, and Anakin and Rex as ex-cops who run a private detective agency:

Palpatine as the corrupt mayor, Dooku as the boss of the crime syndicate, and Ventress as the femme fatale:

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Couple of quick sketches for @artistefish’s fic ‘Miroku, Private Eye’ (I.e., my new obsession). The idea of a 30’s/film noir AU is possibly one of the best to come to the internet. Plus I can’t get enough of InuYasha calling Kagome “Kitten.” Hope you like these :’)

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Eposette Aesthetic: Film Noir AU

I am the devil, but that’s all the same to me.

T H E L A R K
Don’t let appearances fool you, rumour has it that the blonde slip of a dame you see at the bar is the daughter of Private Detective Jean Valjean. Yes, that Jean Valjean, you know the one. You can bet your ass she’s capable of knocking off men thrice her size and if push comes to shove, she’ll be the one taking over her old man’s business.

T H E D E V I L
That slash of red lipstick like a bloody smile is the only warning sign you’ll get not to mess with this broad. A cunning, shrewd minx if there ever was one, but what else do you expect from a Thenardier brat? Particularly one with close ties to the gunsel Montparnasse. Little does anyone know she doubles as an Informant for Valjean, but lately it’s his daughter doing most of the collecting…

someone MUST have made the connection that the ML fandom has the perfect opening for a Film Noir AU right? like its literally impossible that we all just missed that? 

Adrien ‘Cat Noir’ Agreste, under city detective. He is suddenly approached with a case by a young lady in red. 


I havent seen it anywhere but its literally impossible that it doesnt exist, and if it does which it MUST i want a link

anonymous asked:

The Nostalgia Cafe with Hardy and Betty !

Summary: Futuristic film noir AU. In a future where every detail of your life is recorded, memories have become consumer goods. Betty works at the Nostalgia Cafe, clients come to sip a warm beverage while revisiting a souvenir of their choice. Detective Hardy is a regular, using this method to help with his investigations. But sometimes, late at night, he relives memories of his long lost love.

Betty suspects someone is tampering with mnemonic data to manipulate customers into committing murders. She shares her fears with the detective, but fighting these criminals proves harder than anticipated as they realize they cannot trust their own memory.

Send me a title and a pairing and I will give you the summary of a fic I will never write.

Izaya & Shizuo AUs to consider:

- High School AU where Izaya is a drama student and Shizuo works backstage, they both really appreciate what the other person does. Shizuo sees Izaya shirtless a lot because he has to change backstage.

- 1950′s/Film Noir AU where Shizuo is a detective and Izaya is his informant. They save each others lives a lot. They start keeping score. They lose count within the month. Neither of them are surprised.

- IDK what to call this AU but Izaya and Shizuo are both YouTubers that end up meeting up and collaborating because their fans wouldn’t shut up about it. They’re both mainly storytime YouTubers, Izaya sometimes makes reaction videos (mostly to anime or viral videos), Shizuo does Let’s Plays.

- College/University AU where Izaya and Shizuo share a dorm. At first they can’t stand each other, but Shinra insists they start trying to get along and they end up having regular game nights where they play Twister and Cluedo and Pictionary. They soon become inseparable. 

- Izaya is deaf. Shizuo is his interpreter (the person who translates speech into sign language and vice versa). At first, they’re impossible to separate due to work, but one day Shizuo is sick and they both realise that all they want to do is be together, even if they don’t do anything. They crave the others presence.

- Another school AU where Izaya is an art student, Shizuo is their model for portrait practise. They start meeting privately so Izaya can “learn more about anatomy” and neither of them are sure if its true or if Izaya just wants to see Shizuo without any clothes on in private.

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Film Noir Fitzsimmons AU
 for @chinesebakery for the I Love Photoshop Exchange!

Fitz and Simmons are undercover SHIELD agents who meet by chance while tracking down suspected murderer Grant “Hive” Ward. Once they realize they’re on the same side, they team up and locate Ward in record time. Once business is out of the way, Simmons wastes no time asking out Fitz. Of course he accepts, and the rest is history.

Star Wars historical AU art index

(For housekeeping purposes; I will try to keep it updated periodically as more get added)

The original Obi-Wan/Satine AUs post with:

  • Crusades
  • Musketeers era
  • Napoleonic Wars
  • Victorian era
  • WWII

The Anakin/Padmé AUs post with:

  • Tudor/Elizabethan era
  • American Civil War
  • WWI

The full Clone Wars/American Civil War AU post

More of the Civil War AU (Anakin and Padmé)

More of the Napoleonic Wars AU (Anakin, Rex, Padmé, and Qui-Gon)

Combo-breaker modern AU (Obi-Wan and Satine)

Roman occupation of Britain (~4th cent AD, Obi-Wan and Satine)

Byzantium (~12th cent AD, Obi-Wan and Satine)

The full Film Noir AU post

Obi-Wan and Satine as Robin Hood and Marian

Some 70′s fashion?

Everything is the same, except Steampunk Aesthetic

Obi-Wan and Satine in the Burgundian court (~1500 AD)

historical AUs for femlock friday
  • 20s, Sherlock is a flapper much disapproved of for her habits (especially smoking, drinking and open lesbianism), John a former VAD at a loss after WW1 catapulted into the new culture of London in the early 20s, bored, looking for a thrill, which she finds in Sherlock
  • 30s Bloomsbury bohemian AU where John is a struggling artist and Sherlock a writer of detective novels, and they fall in love, with Sherlock becoming John’s lover and muse
  • WW1/2, John and Sherlock work as nurses together, and fall in love with one another instead of their patients.
  • 20s/30s film noir AU where John and Sherlock are PIs and go undercover investigating drugs rings in London after the style of Dorothy L. Sayers
  • 18th century maid/mistress AU!
  • restoration AU where Sherlock is an actress of the Nell Gwyn school and John is a wardrobe mistress, who becomes Sherlock’s mistress as well
  • Cromwellian AU where they live together secretively in a village, and John practises herbalism, and is accused of being a witch. Sherlock sets out to save her. (possibly even cooler if there’s a murder mystery at the back of it - some people have been murdered strangely which is why they set out to blame the witch)
  • Elizabethan/Jacobean AU where Sherlock is working in the theatre disguised as a man, John sees her and falls in love, discovers she’s a woman and is still as much in love
  • 17th century Julie D’Aubigny type AU where John is a noble swordswoman turned opera-singer on the run from the police (google Julie D’Aubigny oh my god, so MUCH) with whom Sherlock falls in love. Mycroft puts Sherlock in a convent, and John follows her: cue daring escapades and two ladies on the run.
  • WW2 AU with one of them as a VAD and the other as their patient, an invalided-out WRNS/WAAF with whom she falls in love
  • suffragette AU oh my god
  • any kind of 17th century court AU please…Julie D’Aubigny is perfect as an AU story bc real-life bisexual noble-woman swordswoman opera-singer but tbh anything in a court
  • might be a bit dry to you all but totally a reformation AU where Sherlock is a secretive preacher spreading the Lutheran message, with a hidden copy of Tyndale’s bible, who goes unnoticed because she’s a woman, and John hears the gospel and joins her - best if one of them gets found out/accused and they have to stage a daring escape to the low countries or germany
  • renaissance painter/sculptor and noblewoman who has to pose for a portrait and becomes the muse/lover of the other
  • there’s like a hundred and two more oh my god. i just. love. historical. femlock. !!!!!!! !! !
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Drarry Inspirations -  Laura AU

“If he would just step out of that painting, it’d be a great help, eh Mr. Harry?” Dobby asked. Harry huffed out a laugh and glanced at the cool grey eyes in the immortalized image of Draco Malfoy. The now familiar smirk taunted him from above the fireplace. He idly wondered if Malfoy had actually  smiled like that or if the painter was a just bit in love with him at the time. 

Probably both, Harry thought wryly, shuffling through his statements and imagining what would be like if Draco Malfoy and his smirk decided to step out of that canvas and solve his case for him.

DGM Film Noir/Detective Thriller AU


have some headcanons, because i can’t NOT rant about this ok 

- Link is a cool, by-the-book LAPD officer and detective. He’s your typical workaholic; doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, doesn’t date– squeaky clean. His department is always clashing against Allen and co.’s investigations. They see Allen as a vigilante and a wannabe cop; and Allen sees the force as corrupt and gunhappy.

-  Link really, really wants to believe that the force is good, and that his orders are right– however, he slowly begins to learn that the law doesn’t always intersect with what is right. Probably starts corroborating with the private eyes.

- Levellier is the LA chief of police. Always reminding Link that sometimes, violence is a necessary adjunct of their profession. Link silently disagrees.

- Allen’s a private investigator. Sees the police as gunhappy and corrupt; and is, in that sense, kind of a vigilante. Has a ton of underworld contacts. Rumoured to have spent several years running with a gambling ring. He’s been a pain in the LAPD’s ass for a handful of years now. He’s in good with Lavi, a reporter from The Los Angeles Bookman, and the two of them co-operate frequently. More often than not, it’s an information deal. Allen brings Lavi stories, and Lavi lends his journalistic eye to Allen’s investigations.

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