Icon from a picrew by grgikau. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. The X-Files. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
im imagining Benjamin w/ little baby Jake on his shoulders on a station like Yorktown, Jake reaching his hands into the sky because he can see the stars above them. Ben lifts his son up and then holds him in his hands, Ben greeting every Starfleet officer he meets as he walks down the street. Passerbys wave to Jake and he giggles and tries to wave back. Benjamin explains the things around them to Jake, even though he doesn’t really understand, and likely won’t remember. It is worth it, though, when Jake recognizes his father’s voice and smiles at the sound of it. They arrive back at a Starfleet resting bunk for the night and Benjamin is tired, but he’s had a wonderful day with this son, and he couldn’t feel happier.
Benjamin and Jennifer are hosting a dinner party for some Starfleet thing at their house, and little 6-year-old Jake has been waiting to eat, so he keeps trying to snack on things from the table. Benjamin tells his son they have to wait until their guests get here, but Jake gives him the best puppy-dog eyes, and Benjamin admits he’s been waiting to eat, too, so they both start snacking on stuff, even though they’re supposed to wait until the dinner party starts. Jennifer’s snacking on some of the food they ate, too, and she also told Jake to not tell his other parent. Benjamin and Jennifer both think the other was waiting patiently, and they share a laugh when the party ends and getting Jake ready for bed.
Julian was so upset about putting Jake in danger, it must have been a lot to find out what bringing Jake there ended up showing Jake about war and himself.
Jake was busy feeling so guilty for getting scared and leaving him.
Jake is just a little writing baby and I love him…
Seriously this episode was so good. One of my favourites
You know what, honestly? I love that Sisko is consistently affectionate towards Jake, even as Jake grows into a young man. I am hard pressed to think of any other shows that let dads kiss their sons on the cheek, or even just hug their sons, with regularity. No one has to be dying for the Siskos to say they love each other or to physically express that love with out getting all weird about it because of some perceived notion of ‘manliness’.
It’s a small thing, but something I really love about Deep Space 9.
“I love seeing their relationship. Avery is so warm and connected with this kid. The Sisko character is not connected with many other people, in fact, maybe with nobody else. This man is out there alone with a lot of stuff going on inside of his head. The one person with whom he can reveal his emotional self on a continuing basis is his son. It makes for such a wonderful contrast with the rest of his character.”
Deep Space Nine 1x19: “In the Hands of the Prophets”
Commander Sisko has a conversation with his son about respecting the power of faith, even when you don’t hold it yourself.
When so many science fiction stories depict religion with one shallow brush of “primitive” and inherently at odds with science, I appreciate DS9′s willingness to depict religion in all its complexities. This episode, for instance, doesn’t shy away from showing the uglier side of religion – Winn’s extremism that causes her and her followers to pull Bajoran children from a multi-species, secular school and proclaim “Bajor for Bajorans.”
Yet Sisko, who has come to respect his second-in-command Kira’s faith as something vital, understands that this extremist side does not negate all the good that the Bajoran faith has brought. And, a grade-A father as always, he explains this to his son without talking down to Jake, knowing that Jake trusts and respects what Sisko has to say – just as Sisko always respects what Jake has to say.
ID: a gifset of Benjamin Sisko and Jake Sisko sitting side by side with a gray wall and a window showing the stars behind them. They hold the following conversation:
JAKE: The same thing is happening now with all this stuff about the Celestial Temple in the wormhole. It’s dumb. SISKO: No, it’s not. You’ve got to realize something, Jake. For over fifty years, the one thing that allowed the Bajorans to survive the Cardassian occupation was their faith. The Prophets were their only source of hope and courage. JAKE: But there were no Prophets. They were just some aliens that you found in the wormhole. SISKO: To those aliens, the future is no more difficult to see than the past. Why shouldn’t they be considered Prophets? JAKE: Are you serious? SISKO: My point is, it’s a matter of interpretation. It may not be what you believe, but that doesn’t make it wrong. If you start to think that way, you’ll be acting just like Vedek Winn, Only from the other side. We can’t afford to think that way, Jake. We’d lose everything we’ve worked for here.
The bonus gif shows Sisko and Jake still next to each other; Sisko has taken Jake’s hand in his and holds it as he speaks, then places his other hand on top of their clasped hands. / end id
Thank you! And thank you for the prompt. ive never written jake/ziyal even though i love them as a pairing and theyre such a missed opportunity on ds9!! Here’s the fic!:
Sometimes it was strange to be in a relationship with the child of your father’s mortal enemy. Sometimes it felt like they were living in some kind of cheesy old holonovel: two young adults on either side of a terrible war, falling in love during the worst historical event of their lives.
But most days, it was just…life.
Jake certainly couldn’t find any reason to complain. Here he was in a room Odo had let he and Ziyal use as an art studio, eating a jumja stick and trying not to get the PADD in his hands too sticky. He and Ziyal were sat on the floor, as had become their custom, knocking elbows as he wrote and she continued her painting.
He glanced up from the world he was creating in his head and found Ziyal focused intently on a red flower on her canvas. Her brush stroked new lines into it, giving it shading that made it look real. Touchable. He only wished he had a flower like that to give her; something that wasn’t replicated.
All he had were words. And some of them were misspelled.
“Ziyal,” he said, lowering the jumja stick and wiping his sleeve across his face. “What’s your favorite type of flower?”
Ziyal didn’t respond at first, still carefully applying the paint to her canvas. But then she tilted her head and made an acknowledging sound to let him know she’d heard him.
“I think…lilacs. From Bajor.”
“Bajoran lilacs?” He winced at the obviousness of his question, but relaxed as Ziyal chuckled in her uniquely kind sort of way. “And, er,” he said, “What’s your favorite food?”
“Gagh.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Ziyal turned to him in total seriousness. They locked eyes for a moment, and then she burst into giggles as she shook her head.
“No,” she said, “I have to admit I’m not fond of that one. Maybe…root beer.”
“Root beer?”
“And hoddoggs.”
Jake’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Hoddoggs?”
“Yes,” she set down her paintbrush and leaned back against the wall. “The food we eat on the holosuite. When you take me to bazeball games.”
A slow smile spread across Jake’s lips.
“Hot dogs?”
“Yes! That’s it.”
“Also,” Jake laughed, “it’s ‘baseball’.”
“No!” Ziyal gasped, “Have I been saying it wrong this entire time?”
Jake nodded. Ziyal lightly smacked his arm with a little pout on her face.
“You never told me that before! Your father didn’t either.”
“He didn’t?!” Jake shook his head with a smile. “He must really like you. He corrects everyone on baseball terms.”
“Yeah,” Jake shrugged, then looked deeply into her eyes. “You are.”
They held each other’s gaze for a short moment before they both turned away with blushes on their cheeks. They both looked at their respective crafts, Jake pretending to scrutinize his writing while Ziyal added yet more shading to the same flower.
Then, slowly, they turned back toward each other.
“Hey,” Jake said quietly, “Do you wanna get dinner soon? I heard a shuttle brought in fresh fruits from Bajor this afternoon.”
“That sounds lovely.” Ziyal quickly began storing her paints and brushes. “And afterward…I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk in the garden.”
“Garden?” Jake set down his PADD and stood, helping Ziyal to her feet with an extended hand. “We don’t have a garden on the station.”
Ziyal brushed a finger through her hair, looping it back over her ear. “You do now. I, er…I designed a holosuite program. It’s nothing special, but…”
“I’m sure it’s awesome.”
“Awesome?”
“Yeah, like, awe-inspiring. ‘Awesome’.”
“I like that word,” Ziyal grinned.
“It fits you.”
Jake blushed as soon as he said it. He almost retreated right then, or at least backtracked on his words. But then Ziyal set her hand on his warm cheek, and planted a light kiss on the opposite cheek.
He covered her hand with his trembling fingers and looked into her eyes with a dazed expression.
“You’re pretty ‘awesome’ yourself, Jake.”
She caressed his face as she walked away, then grabbed his hand in her own. She pulled toward the door, then giggled and doubled back as he continued to stand there slack-jawed.
“Come on!” She urged. “The replimat will be busy soon.”
“I’m coming,” he smiled.
Glancing back once more, Jake looked over their art projects and wondered if this was what happiness was. Looking back at Ziyal, he knew his answer.
