Bite Sized Bits of Fic

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard, his mother unexpectedly comes back into his life

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Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett + Grace Williams, Grace celebrates Steve on Mother's Day

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Any, any male, he has a complicated relationship with his mother

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Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne,

Mother's pride
Baby boy
His fathers eyes
He's a soldier waiting for war
(George Michael)

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Marvel Cinematic Universe, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, remembering their mothers on Mother's Day

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Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Evan Lorne,

It's so easy from above
You can really see it all
People who belong together
Lost and sad and small
But there's nothing to be done for them
It doesn't work that way
Sure we all have soulmates
But we walk past them every day
(Ben Folds - From Above)

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Stargate Atlantis, Team Sheppard (AR-1),

Well you can trace
Lines in your face
But it's the weight of your spirit
Makes you old
(Caught a Ghost - No Sugar in My Coffee)

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Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, "Things fall apart. They fall apart so hard. You can't ever put them back the way they were...There's just so much to work through. Trust has to be built again, on both sides. You have to learn if we're even the same people we were, if you can fit in each other's lives. It's a long, important process, and can we just skip it? Can you just be kissing me now?" (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Entropy")

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Any, any f/f,

And I wish her insight to battle love's blindness
Strength from the milk of human kindness
A safe place for all the pieces that scatter
Learn to pretend there's more than love that matters
(Indigo Girls - Love Will Come to You)

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Any, any f/f,

You can't avoid her
She's in the air
In between molecules of
Oxygen and carbon dioxide
(Weezer - Only in Dreams)

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tigriswolf

MCU, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, Nightmare Before Christmas AU

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tigriswolf

Kings, Jack Benjamin + either Silas or Rose Benjamin,

I could not kill
The way you kill
I could not hate
I tried, I failed
You turned me in
At least you tried
You side with them whom
You despise

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tigriswolf

MCU, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes + author's choice,

Names so deep
And names so true
They're blood to me
Dust to you
There is no need
And this survives
There's Truth that lives
And Truth that dies

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tigriswolf

I really wanna do something for Jack & Rose Benjamin with this, but I don't have a grasp on either of their voices. :(

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Neither do I, so I say run with it! LOL!

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I would love to see this as well :)

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Wonder Woman (2017), Diana Prince/Steve Trevor, (267): Her thighs are so strong. I thought my head was gonna get crushed when I was eating her out

Edited Date: 2018-05-12 06:24 pm (UTC)

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Veronica Mars, Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars, Everyone points and whispers about us. We must be doing something right. (If you're going to do the wrong things, do them right.) (A Softer World, 834)

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Frasier, Niles Crane/Daphne Moon, (651): What's the best way to tell a guy he can call me when his impending divorce is finalized?

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Friends, Chandler Bing/Monica Geller:
Some day, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight
(Fred Astaire, “The Way You Look Tonight”)

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She’d never had the chance to tell him she was proud of him.

He probably wouldn’t have believed her. The one and only time they’d raised their voices at each other was when he’d told her he was joining the Air Force. He’d gone out that morning and come back with his soft hair gone, and he said he was going to climb on a bus and go to basic.

And she’d seen in him, more than ever before, his father. Not just his father’s dry sarcasm or interest in fighting and weapons and airplanes, his father’s broad shoulders and strong hands. She’d seen that thing in Alexander Lorne that had made her take him in even though he was anathema to all she believed, a soldier with bloodstained hands.

She saw in him the desire to help, to protect - and to sacrifice, not just his own life but himself. Because soldiers weren’t like everyone else. Her father had been a soldier, and her mother had always talked about how he’d gone to basic and come back different. Something else. Basic training was where they broke a man down and rebuilt him from an individual into a unit useful to his branch of service.

Sure, the Air Force were considered the nerds of the armed forces, the lazy ones, the smart ones instead of the brute force ones - but they were the ones who flew over enemy airspace, got shot down. Of course, if Evan was going to be a footsoldier like his father, he’d be pushing a mop and schlepping paperwork and only occasionally firing a gun, right?

But then she heard, in passing, from some of the other young people on the commune, ones who’d gone to high school with Evan, that he’d gotten into the Air Force Academy. He was going to become an officer.

He was going to fly.

He’d always wanted to fly. He’d taken up surfing and running and anything with speed with eagerness and dedication. When he was a small, small boy, he’d spread his arms wide and run and run and run, face tilted up to the sun.

He’d been such a beautiful boy.

For four years, while he’d been at the Academy, she’d been terrified and furious, because he was marching himself past the front lines and into enemy airspace. Most of the people on the commune hated war because of its destructiveness, the way it spread pain and despair and poverty, hatred and cruelty. She hated those aspects of war.

But she also hated what it did to people. Alexander had been a sweet man, underneath his anger and brooding and sudden explosions of violence (PTSD, it was called, she knew that now). Alexander had survived Vietnam but the best parts of him had been left in its jungles. She didn’t know what war would do to her baby boy, her sweet Evan, who liked to bake cookies with his Nan and paint pictures with his mother. He wanted to help people. If he didn’t pay the price with his life, he’d surely pay it with his soul.

And she couldn’t bear to see him go.

She went to his graduation ceremony, though. Hid in the back, watched an austere gentleman in a fine blue uniform pin golden bars onto the collar of Evan’s fine blue uniform. No longer a cadet, now a proud second lieutenant in the United States Air Force.

He’d gotten a little taller, broader in the shoulders. He wasn’t her baby boy anymore, stood tall and straight, moved crisply. He was a soldier. She managed to work her way through the crowd, close to him, but she hovered behind his classmates, didn’t make herself known. The others talked about the plans they had, where they wanted to go. Evan was going to Test Pilot School.

His dream. He’d always wanted to fly.

He was a good son, a better son to her than the mother she’d been to him. He’d written her faithfully every week, a letter in the mail, usually with a little sketch on the back. He told her about his dormmates, the things he was learning, the fun things he did around town, like the state and national parks he went hiking in. She’d written back here and there, updates about his sister and the commune.

He’d never talked about his military training.

She’d never talked about how she could see, even in his letters, how he was losing his soul.

He wrote to tell her he was being stationed in South Korea, so letters would take longer to arrive.

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Korea was so far away. She started to write him back more frequently, invited him home on leave - though he’d always declined when he’d had school breaks.

The first time he came home, he showed up at the door in jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of flip flops. He had some overnight supplies in a backpack, and apart from the brief gleam of the chain for his dog tags at his throat and his haircut and the way he carried himself, he didn’t look like an Air Force officer at all.

Was he leaving part of himself behind when he came home, like he did when he was out in the wide world, being an Air Force officer?

But he came home, and he helped Tally at the tattoo shop, and he went to doctor appointments with Tally when she became pregnant with first Mike, then Gabe, and he baked things with Nan, and he still painted and drew, and it was almost like old times.

He was a surveyor, he said. At a mining site.

To mine supplies for weapons, no doubt.

It was an easy job, he said. Calm. Peaceful.

And then something happened. There was no word for two months and -

Major Samantha Carter, sharp in her dress blues, showed up on the doorstep with another, younger officer, this one with christian crosses pinned onto the lapels of his uniform jacket.

“Ma’am,” she said, “I -”

Bobbie slammed the door in her face, sank against it, and burst into tears.

There was another knock, and another, and then footsteps retreating off the porch.

When Bobbie could finally stand, she opened the door, and there was a letter tucked into the door jamb. Bobbie could barely read it through her tears. Her baby boy, all ready for war, said he was just a simple surveyor - KIA.

What the hell was he doing out in action when he was supposed to be stationed in Colorado?

Classified, the details were. Of course.

Bobbie only spoke to the assistance officer long enough to learn that Evan’s personal affairs would be handled according to his will. She didn’t want death benefits or other blood money from the people who’d gotten her son killed.

She wanted to move on.

And she did, she had moved on - only there was another knock on the door.

A different woman in a fancy blue uniform, same young chaplain at her side. Bobbie couldn’t see her name, because she was carrying a box.

Of Evan’s things. A letter. One of his sketchbooks. All of his pictures of the family, the ones Bobbie had sent him over the years. His dogtags.

“I don’t want those. Why would I want those?”

“He thought you might want to keep them the same way you kept his father’s,” the woman said.

She’d known Evan personally.

Evan had known about Alexander’s tags. He’d known at least some of the truth of what Alexander had been. What else did he know? Was that why he’d gone and joined up, just like his father? He’d never been the artist Tally was, never been the baker Nan was. Had he felt inadequate? Had Bobbie done something, said something to make him feel like he didn’t fit in with her side of the family, that his only recourse for acceptance was his father’s side?

The exchange that followed was embarrassing. Bobbie had never raised a hand to another human being in her life, but the woman on her doorstep wearing the same type of uniform Evan had worn so proudly, that he’d died for, represented everything in the world that had taken the people Bobbie loved - her father, her husband, and now her son.

The woman didn’t protest, didn’t fight back, let Bobbie have her terrible moment.

Evan had saved her life, she said.

Bobbie stepped back, looked at the woman. She looked almost like Tally - blue eyes, round cheeks, narrow nose that was a little long, expressive brows.

Bobbie had never been able to see the good Evan’s work wrought in the world, but here it was, on her doorstep. A woman alive who’d have otherwise been dead.

But Bobbie’s baby boy was still dead and gone, and nothing this woman did could bring him back.

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That night, hours after Nan had gone to bed, Bobbie sat on the floor in Evan’s old bedroom and looked through the box.

His final letter was three words: I love you.

The pictures inside were of herself, Tally and the kids, Nan, but also people in uniforms, people Evan must have served with. There were few pictures of Evan himself, because he was more likely to be behind the camera.

His sketchbook was full of beauty and wonder, his imagination run wild, peaceful meadows that were actually alien landscapes with multiple suns, flowers and trees that had never existed on Earth.

And people’s faces, many of them familiar from the photographs, some unfamiliar. Multiple studies of one man, handsome, with military-short hair, a strong jawline, narrow, chin, high cheekbones. Cam, according to the name written in the margin of one portrait. Cam had strong, long-fingered hands, an easy grin, wore dog tags even when he was shirtless. He was a pilot, and a cook, and a knitter.

He’d been drawn with love.

Bobbie’s heart ached. She’d never known this about her own son, though he must have known it himself, had taken on the burden of hiding this part of himself willingly because he wanted to serve. She’d always been afraid of that thing she’d seen in Evan’s eyes, that she’d seen in his father’s eyes, a willingness to sacrifice everything, even himself.

Alexander had seen his own destructive despair and hadn’t known how to handle it, had known he’d be a danger to his newborn son, so he’d - removed himself from the equation.

Evan had seen something in himself that didn’t fit on the commune, and he’d also removed himself from the equation.

For all that Bobbie had been willing to sacrifice to keep her mother and daughter and son and grandchildren alive, there’d been a line she’d never been willing to cross, and Evan had crossed it, had taken that stain on his soul so someone else wouldn’t have to.

It had changed him, ruined him, but Bobbie was damn proud of him, because he’d had the courage to shoulder that burden.

And now she would never, ever be able to tell him.

From:

Angel the series, Angel/Cordelia Chase (+ another person in Angel Investigations),
Angel: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Boyfriend? I don't want to be Cordy's “boyfriend.”
Author’s Choice: Well... what do you want then?
Angel: I don't know. I just wanna be with her all the time. I wanna hear about her day, tell her about mine. I wanna hold her hand and smell her hair. But I don't want to be her stupid boyfriend.
(How I Met Your Mother)

Edited Date: 2018-05-13 01:17 am (UTC)

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Well, that was ten kinds of heartbreaking. And after I left such a cheerful song prompt. ::grins::

That song kills me every time I hear it, and this fill killed me too. So heartbreaking for poor Bobbie. Of course she'd want something different for Evan, knowing what his father had gone through. And yet to her it seemed to end the same anyway.

Was that girl!Evan on her doorstep with the box of things? Because how awful must that have been for him? Guh. Angst-o-rama.

Thank you so much for this fill! Now where did I put those tissues? ::sniffles::

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tigriswolf

MCU, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, a Goose Girl AU

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I should listen to that song sometime, for reals.

And yes, that was girl!Evan. So much angst.

Thanks for feeding carrots to the Evan!bunny :)

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The Walking Dead(/any), any, save the horse Rick rode into Atlanta on in 'Days Gone Bye' (01x01).

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Criminal Minds/NCIS Los Angeles, Jennifer Jareau + Kensi Blye, work out / sparring.

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Any, any,

You know our chemistry, it's off the chain.
It's perfect now, but will it change?
This ain't a yes, this ain't a no.
Just do your thang, and we'll see how it goes.
Aaliyah, "Try Again".

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Buffy the Vampire Slayer(/The Walking Dead), Buffy Summers, the apocalypse happened during her first year as the Slayer.

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Any, any, the smell of the night after a rainstorm.

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Brooklyn Nine-Nine, ensemble, the whole gang has a Eurovision party at Boyle's or Ray and Kevin's house. Each one picks a country to support and there are many drinking games and shenanigans had

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Brooklyn Nine-Nine, ensemble, "I LOVE THE INTERNET!"

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Dragon Age, any, explaining to someone that they are asexual and expecting derision and getting, like, hugs and validation instead

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Tortall, Daine/Numair, Numair and Sarge at some point talking about how they met

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Call me by your name rpf, armie hammer /timotheè chalamet, Harley Quinn and joker au

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Harry Potter rpf, Tom Felton /Matthew lewis, spy VS spy

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Mcu, bucky barns /Steve Rogers, uso dance pre war, out and proud

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Supernatural,Charlie bradbury /Dean Winchester, it's ballet class

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Supernatural, Dean Winchester /Benny, collage roommates

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tigriswolf

(NOTE: I barely remember how the series finale went, so anything wrong here is because it's a slight AU. *nods firmly*)

"Are you going to keep her confined forever?" Michelle asks, cradling her infant daughter to her chest, wary gaze on Jack.

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Our mother is treacherous,” he says calmly. He sees how Michelle hears what goes unsaid: Are you treacherous?

Michelle has only recently been allowed back into Gilboa, bringing with her Jack’s niece. Their father had confined Jack much like their mother is now confined, except (with Michelle in hiding in Gath) it was Jack’s duty to give the king a better heir than Jack or Michelle.

Jack’s second coup was far more successful than his first. He learned quickly, and brutally. Of his father’s men, none survive, nor any member of Jack’s bloodline—save Michelle, her daughter, and their mother. His own soldiers seek David in Gath, but surely David is finding his way home.

After all, Jack has David’s true love and David’s child.

“Do you love me, sister?” Jack asks now.

Michelle is free to move about the grounds, a bodyguard at her side and another at her back. Jack’s niece has two bodyguards of her own, the most loyal of all of Jack’s people.

The Princess Michelle nods with tears in her eyes. “Will you tell me my heir’s name?” Jack murmurs. He makes no move to approach Michelle or request to hold her child. Jack understands well how love entwines with fear and hate.

“Hope,” Michelle manages before stifling her sobs.

Jack nods. “I wish you a pleasant morning,” he says before leaving her in her sitting room, wrapped around her daughter.

He goes to see his mother.

.

Edited Date: 2018-08-07 04:22 pm (UTC)

From:

tigriswolf

Jack’s advisors provide him with daily reminders that his mother should not have been allowed to survive the purge. So long as the once-Queen Rose lives, Jack’s throne is in jeopardy. His father, his uncle, his younger half-brother—he did not hesitate because their deaths were a necessity. So why does his mother still live?

Perhaps for the same reason his sister and her husband do: he loves his mother. More than he hates her, more than he fears her, he still loves his mother.

“Jack, darling,” his mother says, without rising from her chair by the window, holding out her hands to greet him. It could be any morning from his childhood, any morning before he was captured by Gath and saved by a simple soldier.

(It would be so easy to blame David Shepherd for everything that has gone wrong since that horrible night.)

“Mother,” he replies. He leans against the doorway (left open) instead of going to her. She lets her hands fall with a gentle, disapproving frown. “Michelle has returned,” he tells her.

His mother smiles; he almost believes her relief is genuine. “That’s wonderful news,” she exclaims. But her eyes are sharp, assessing. Jack knows some of the household staff are still loyal to her. Purging the military and the council are so much easier than purging the servants.

Keeping the ex-queen (Queen Mother, some have begun calling her) alive is such a dangerous gamble.

“It has been three months,” his mother notes, rearranging herself in her chair to observe him more easily. “Has the regime change finalized?” Will you kill me, my son? she doesn’t ask.

Her eyes are so sharp, his mother’s—biting and cold. He wants to trust in her love, as he did as a boy. He has learned his lesson well.

“Michelle has a daughter,” he says.

No surprise on his mother’s face, in her bearing.

“She will be my heir, the Princess Josepha,” Jack continues.

“Jack,” his mother says, gently, consolingly, “you cannot believe you will succeed. Your father was too beloved for his killer to be allowed to rule.”

He smiles at her, the smile he learned from her, an empty smile. Michelle has always been so soft, so protected, so fragile. She never learned, for all that she is so smart. Too open, to honest, the sweet, adored Princess Michelle. She should have been born in any family but the Benjamins.

Jack, though, he is his mother’s son. His late father’s heir and executioner.

“You made your choice, Mother,” Jack tells her now.

She shakes her head. “God will punish you for your betrayals.”

“I betrayed no one,” Jack counters. “How can you betray your own betrayers?”

She wears her disappointment like a coat, letting him see it in her slumped back, her bowed head. But she will never bow to him, never accept him on his father’s throne.

Rose Benjamin is too dangerous to be left alive. There are too many people who are still loyal to her. Michelle will, eventually, see the rightness in Jack’s cause. Her daughter will know nothing else. David—Jack doesn’t yet know what to do with David.

Jack wants to ask, Why did you choose Silas over me? Why was I never good enough? How could you kill my Joseph?

To each question, he already knows the answer.

He pushes off the door, straightening his spine. “Goodbye, Mother.”

Her eyes widen. Her mouth drops open.

He leaves with her voice calling his name, and the door closes behind him.

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