Crossover Snippet Roundup
These were written for a meme on Tumblr in which I was given two characters from two different fandoms, and I then wrote a ficlet detailing my head canon for how they met.
- Generation Kill x Sons of Anarchy, Nate/Jax
- Generation Kill x Band of Brothers, Brad and Liebgott
- Generation Kill x Harry Potter, Doc Bryan and Neville Longbottom
- True Blood x Harry Potter, Sookie Stackhouse and Harry Potter
Title: Tattoos and Scars
Fandoms: Generation Kill, Sons of Anarchy
Pairing: Nate Fick/Jax Teller
Rating: R for language
Jax is used to pretty eyes and full lips and tight bodies. Usually, though, they belong to women. Nate Fick is very much a man. He also doesn’t have a speck of ink on him, and what the hell is that? An untattooed body is a novelty to Jax, but, he figures, so is one with so many scars. He marvels at the way they feel underneath his fingertips.
Nate loves Jax’s ink. He likes the way it tastes in contrast with the unmarked skin. A man’s body isn’t exactly new to him, but it’s not something he’s overly familiar with, either.
The first night was an accident, fate, whatever. It was too much alcohol, a pool table, and eye-fucking across a room.
The second night was quick and dirty, Nate sneaking out of Jax’s bed before anyone noticed.
The third was after Nate had become a Prospect, at least in name, just so no one would question him hanging around. A grad student on vacation, writing a book and fucking the President would have raised a few questions that Jax didn’t really want to answer.
Now, neither of them has any damn idea what night they’re on.
Sometimes at night, they lie together in the darkness, dragging fingers and tongues over scars and tattoos, and trying to figure out what the hell they’re doing. Jax drags calluses over a faint scar on Nate’s ribs, and Nate tastes the name Abel on Jax’s chest. For a while, they’re quiet and tender and together, something that rarely happens. In the morning, they both go back to their worlds of violence and pretending, but for now, they simply feel.
Title: War Isn't For Stories
Fandoms: Generation Kill, Band of Brothers
Pairing/characters: Brad Colbert, Joe Liebgott
Rating: R language
All Brad wanted was a haircut. He had a drill tournament at American Christian Military Academy in San Bernardino, and since his hair was almost three inches past regulation, the commandant of both his school and the Christian Academy had requested that he get a haircut before the afternoon assembly. Why the hell their drill team sergeant always thought it was funny to send the Jew to the Christian school, he’d never know, but he always wound up at some hellfire and brimstone place. What the fuck ever. He looked like a damned Elvis, and he needed a barbershop, yesterday.
At eighteen, they trusted him on his own for an hour, so he set off in search of a barber. He hated hair salons, always full of women gossiping and the smell of too much perfume and hairspray. He wandered into a place with on old fashioned striped pole out front. The shop was empty except for an elderly man leaning against the counter.
The old man looked at his uniform, and then at his hair.
“Lookin’ like a sheep dog, aren’t you?”
“That’s why I’m here. Can you help me out?”
Brad sat down in the chair and waited for the old man to start cutting. He watched the man walk. Even in his old age, he had a military stride.
“You retired military, sir?”
“Yeah.”
The old man didn’t elaborate, which made Brad curious.
“What branch?”
“Army.”
He kept cutting Brad’s hair in an efficient manner.
“Where’d you serve?”
“Look, son, I don’t much talk about it, alright?”
“Yes, sir. I’m Brad, by the way. Brad Colbert.”
The man kept cutting.
“Joe Liebgott.”
Brad restrained himself from snapping to attention at the name, one he recognized from required reading at school. There was an older book, and one that had just come out that year. This man was a war hero, had a Presidential Citation and Purple Star. They made eye-contact in the mirror, and the old man silently asked Brad not to press the issue. Brad remained quiet for a while, letting the old man work.
The man finished with Brad’s hair quickly, and Brad paid him in silence. As Brad walked out the door, he turned back to the man.
“I’m enlisting next month. Marines.”
The man snorted. Old rivalries ran strong. Brad was half-way out the door when he heard the man’s voice.
“Take care of yourself, then, son.”
Brad nodded sharply.
“Yes, sir.”
Title: The Biggest Fuckup He Has Encountered
Fandoms: Generation Kill, Harry Potter
Parings/Characters: Doc Bryan, Neville Longbottom
Rating: R for language
Doc had treated civilians before, in times of necessity, but this boy wandering around the train station in London was just plain weird as fuck. He was confused by bandages, by ointment, by the need to clean the cut on his arm with an alcohol wipe. He couldn’t come up with a good explanation for his wounds either, something about a trolley and a closed platform and needing to find a way to contact his Gran. He had to be sixteen or seventeen, but he was acting all of six. That aside, he seemed to be smart. Doc really wasn’t sure what the hell he was dealing with. Well, fuck it. This kid was going to sit still and act like a cognizant human being for long enough for Doc to fix him up, if Doc had to cast a damn spell on him to keep him there.
Title: Faeries, Wizards, and Vampires, Oh My
Fandoms: True Blood, Harry Potter
Parings/Characters: Sookie Stackhouse, Harry Potter, appearances by Eric Northman, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley
Rating: R for language
Sookie’s pissed. Sookie is beyond pissed. She’s had to deal vampires. She’s had to cope with werewolves. She’s had to accept witches. She’s even had to come to terms with the fact that she’s a fucking fairy. She does not have time to deal with a damn hidden world of wizards.
Eric brought a boy to her, although boy is barely fitting. He’s seventeen, maybe eighteen, almost an adult. Eric says he may have information on some sort of magical war that effects them all, but Sookie needs to read his mind to be sure.
She looks at him, all open green eyes and messy dark hair, and she’s knows he’s honest before she even reads him. What she learns terrifies her, though. They’re all in danger, every minute, and powerful evil forces want this boy dead.
Well. Sookie likes this Harry Potter. He’s polite and kind, and he puts most others above himself. She tells Eric to believe him, and he does. With that, Sookie takes it upon herself to offer Harry and his two friends, a pretty girl and a red-headed boy, a place to stay for the night. They seem dazed, always looking over their shoulders, hands going toward their pockets as if to reach for weapons. They need a place to rest, and Sookie plans on giving it to them. If Harry’s going to save the world, he needs a good night’s sleep.