Bite Sized Bits of Fic

Buzzfeed Unsolved RPF, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Shane was Jack the Ripper

From:

bleodswean.livejournal.com

Whoa. This.

From:

I have been thinking about it ever since they did the Jack the Ripper ep lol

From:

Star Wars, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Alexander the Great AU

From:

The Magicians (tv), Jane Chatwin, going back in time to talk to her younger self

From:

Wonder Woman (movie), Diana Prince/Steve Trevor, learning about the world

From:

Will (tv), Christopher Marlowe/William Shakespeare, not so secret

From:

punk4life1315.livejournal.com

Spartacus, Agron/Nasir, building a life after the rebellion

From:

punk4life1315.livejournal.com

Spartacus, Saxa/Mira, AU where Saxa was a gladiator at the ludus.

From:

punk4life1315.livejournal.com

Spartacus, Nasir & Naevia, moments of friendship

From:

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, The Roaring 20s AU

From:

squidgiepdx

Oh god... I can just see Rodney calling John a "masher". ::grin::

From:

Right? LOL!

From:

Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, 1950s surfing AU

From:

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Bucky tells Steve about a particular historical period he was part of

From:

Any, any m/m, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." (George Santayana)

From:

sasha-b.livejournal.com

"How many times have we snatched victory from the jaws of defeat?"

The lieutenant watches the commander, and knows what he's going to say next. His heart, already thumping at double time, marches faster, shame and anger and fuck's sake why is he so predictable and yes, here it comes.

"With you at my side, we can do so again. Lancelot - "

No, Arthur.

"We are knights. What other purpose do we serve if not for such a cause?"

The sigh rattles his chest. The smell of the stables and the sound of many horses usually calms him, but this time, he's antsy and full of rage and Arthur, fucking Arthur, and Lancelot pinches the bridge of nose between his fingers and then stands, sweeping a hand through the air. He'd cut Arthur's ridiculous ideas from the other man and from himself if he could. If doing so would make Arthur any less self-sacrificing and stupid.

"Arthur, you fight for a world that will never exist. Never!" He steps to the railing that surrounds the boxy section of practice arena that he and the other knights use - have used up until now - daily for sparring and riding. Today was supposed to be the last of that.

"There will always be a battlefield."

And then suddenly he is struck by what he can say to make it all right, and he smiles as he leans forward conspiratorially. "I will die in battle. Of that I'm certain. And hopefully a battle of my choosing." He rests his elbows on the railing, wooden splinters digging in, gouging little marks into his skin through his jacket, the thick beams rough and old. "But - should it be this one, grant me a favor."

He cocks his head. I've got you now, Castus.

"Don't bury me in our sad little cemetery. Burn me. Burn me and cast my ashes to a strong east wind."

From:

sasha-b.livejournal.com

He waits. Surely that will be enough. Arthur is Arthur, but Arthur also isn't stupid, or some insipid new commander that only follows the rules and only follows his heart -

Gods damn him.

The other man meets Lancelot's eyes with sorrow infusing the green. They are close, breath mingling, and still Lancelot waits, maybe now he'll say -

Nothing.

A smirk crosses Lancelot's face. It is his best and most well known weapon, and Arthur's expression shifts to one of emptiness and command. Lancelot knows what Arthur would say, should the other man choose to take a stand when he needs to the most. And yet, silence.

Shoving off the railing, Lancelot laughs to himself, and exits the stables, leaving Arthur with his unsaid platitudes and his statement-less feelings.

With you at my side, we can do so again.

The sky is heavy with the possibility of sleet, and Lancelot squints as he looks up at it, his breath coming in rasps, steam issuing with it. The chill is enough to make him shake, although he knows it's not just that. His back feels strangely empty without his weapons, although the sword he wears at his left hip makes up for that lack somewhat.

He thinks he might feel better being more armed, now that he knows they're not going home tomorrow. They're staying to fight another of the hundreds of battles they've already fought that are not their own -

Arthur's at his heels, his hand brushing at Lancelot's neck as if to make him turn, but Lancelot strides away, across the courtyard and past his brothers that are currently taking as much time as they can to drink and carouse before the most dangerous thing they've ever done starts.

Lancelot knows what Arthur should have said in response to his words.

I shall follow you on that last battlefield. We will both be sent eastward, together. Lancelot.

Lancelot also knows what Arthur would have said, had he had strength for response.

With you at my side, we can survive this.

How many times has the other man said that? How many times has Lancelot followed him?

He's cold, and he turns up the collar of his better-than-the-other-jackets and continues to his quarters, his hands flexing helplessly, the swords he's already packed for the now defunct trip home ready to spring to his grip, a joke, a trick.

Don't bury me. Burn me.

- and he'd said nothing.

Lancelot lifts the lid of his trunk and methodically removes his armor and blades and sets them on the bed silently.

~

all dialog from King Arthur not written by me.

From:

Wow. A thousand angsty feels! I haven't seen the movie, but that didn't hinder my enjoyment of this at all. Is there anything more painful than waiting to hear words that never come, from someone you care so deeply about?

I really felt for Lancelot here. Feels!!

Thank you so much for this fill!

From:

sasha-b.livejournal.com

Ah, thanks. I love angst so much and this prompt was perfect for these two. The movie itself is so bad, but so amazing. I've loved it for a long time. I'm glad the feeling came across without you having seen it.

thank you!!

From:

Stargate Multiverse, Any, "History will be kind to me for I intend to write it." (Winston Churchill)

From:

untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com

Doctor Who, Nine, Ten, or Twelve +/Any, Rat Pack-era Las Vegas shennagans.

Edited Date: 2018-04-18 07:31 pm (UTC)

From:

untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com

Doctor Who, Rory Williams, remembering a specific historical era during his long watch and quietly smirking over how wrong modern time's perception of it was.

From:

tellshannon815.livejournal.com

He'd actually seen the Doctor during that time, although not HIS Doctor, but the tenth, and someone who he recognised from his Doctor's description of being Rose Tyler.

Rory had heard more than one version of events regarding what really happened to the Princes in the Tower, from the Tudor propaganda naming Richard III as their killer, to the more recent speculation involving Henry Tudor and his mother, the Duke of Buckingham, or even the suggestions submitted at the Richard III Museum in York naming people who weren't even from the right time period, such as Margaret Thatcher.

Only he witnessed the pterodactyl-type creatures that had been stalking the streets of London in 1483, that had carried off the Princes. Only he had seen Rose yelling at the Doctor, asking whether there was no way he could have saved the Princes and cleared Richard's name throughout history, and only he had heard the Doctor explaining that 1483 was a fixed point in history, that there was nothing he could do.

Years later as he and Amy watched the Shakespeare play Richard III, Rory smiled to himself at how much of it was wrong.

From:

untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com

This was so very very perfect thank you!!!

From:

tellshannon815.livejournal.com

Thank you so much, glad you liked it! I've always been fascinated by the Princes in the Tower story and would love to see Doctor Who one day tackle it.

From:

darkmoore.livejournal.com

MCU, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, all the little (and not so little) things that make them feel out of sync with the world as it is today.

From:

vanillafluffy.livejournal.com

Learning about history isn’t the same as living through history. After hopscotching through decades, Bucky remembers things like cars with tailfins, bell-bottom trousers and women with giant perms, but it’s difficult for him to place them on a continuum. Most times he was awakened, it was for a specific mission, and HYDRA didn’t feel he needed to be briefed on when he was. Steve has is easy, he maintains. He can play the “I was in the ice for that” card, and people fall over themselves to help him out and show off how smart they are.

Bucky thinks of himself as familiar with technbology, since he’s seen some of its gradual evolution. He remembers when computers were rare things that took up entire rooms and relied on punchcards to compute, and floppy disks (both sizes), and portable phones the size of bricks. Steve, who’s had some tutoring, has to demonstrate to him what a mouse does.

When Steve absent-mindedly leaves a spoon in the bowl of soup he’s heating up, JARVIS announces (at about twice his usual volume, it seems to Steve) that that’s a microwave safety violation, and proceeds to project a safety video right there on a screen in the kitchen while red-faced Steve considers abandoning half of his lunch. Bucky just laughs.

“I remember the first time I did that,” he comments with a grin. “Almost burned down a fleabag motel in Pittsburgh. I had to duck out before the emergency crew got there.”

Steve feels marginally better, and later, he saves Bucky from a small but significant mistake in the laundry room.

“You can’t put that sweater in there,” he cautions as Bucky flings articles of clothes into the washing machine.

“Why not? That’s is my favorite sweater, it’s getting a little ripe.”

“Yeah, but take it from me, if you wash it with that stuff, every sock, tee shirt and pair of underwear you’ve got is liable to turn pink.”

“Pink?!” Bucky stares at him. “Seriously?”

With a sigh, Steve slides two fingers under the waistband of his khakis and slides it down just far enough to reveal a strip of delicate pink waistband beneath.

Bucky wolf-whistles. “Very fetching, Stevie.” He retrieves the offending garment.

“Ah, shut up, ya big dope,” Steve says, blushing as pink as his shorts.

“Sticks and stones.”

It’s good to know that even after so many years down the road and a world that’s so much different from the one they knew that their cameraderie hasn’t changed.

.

From:

darkmoore.livejournal.com

OMG I love this so SO much. Thank you! It's perfect! I love those two so much. (I also loved how you put it: hopscotching through decades. Very accurate.) Love it!

From:

vanillafluffy.livejournal.com

You're very welcome. Poor Bucky--considering he's the guy who once talked about going to the future with such anticipation, it must suck--dozens of little differences every day, but still no flying cars!

From:

Aww, this is so sweet!

From:

vanillafluffy.livejournal.com

Thank you kindly!

From:

darkmoore.livejournal.com

Highlander: the series, Methos tells someone about an event from the past under the disguise of being a history professor.

From:

drabblewriter.livejournal.com

Star Wars, any, they live during a different time period in the GFFA

From:

John Wick, John Wick, He wasn't always the boogey man. Once, he was a _______.

From:

Lucifer, Ella Lopez, The best car she ever stole was ______.

From:

MCU, Tony Stark+Pepper Potts, Her first days on the job

From: