ficlets: Avatar, SN
Title: a street on earth neither heaven nor hell
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Adrienne Rich.
Warnings: spoilers for up to “Family Remains”
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 510
Point of view: third
“Sammy Winchester,” the demon croons. “You called?”
“Tell me what you did to Dean.” Sam keeps his voice level and calm. His hands are clenched into fists and everything in him screams to rip the demon out, destroy it. But he summoned it here for a reason, because Dean’s not talking anymore.
“We broke him.” The demon grins, slouching in a satisfied way. “He was strong, your brother. Took lots longer than any of us expected.” The demon chuckles. “You know, he cost me a hundred years of paperwork.” The demon looks Sam right in the eye. “I was sure he’d find a way out within the first twenty years-or that someone would come for him.”
Sam takes a deep breath. He can’t kill the demon, not yet. “Tell me,” he repeats softly, iron will alone keeping him still.
The demon cocks its host’s head. “Will it change anything? Make you look at him in a different way?”
“No.” Of that, Sam is sure. After everything they’ve been through, nothing could ever change them now.
“Then what’s it matter what happened in Hell?” It raises the host’s brow. “We broke him. We enjoyed it. He reforged himself by hellfire, and could have been the greatest demon since my lord Fell. But he was dragged out, fighting all the way.” The demon smirks again, though this time it seems almost gentle. “He didn’t want to go, and we didn’t want him to. There was a battle, Samuel Winchester. We lost, and Heaven got Dean out.”
The demon steps up to the edge of the devil’s trap and says, “Heaven got him out, yes, but he’s marked by us. He enjoyed everything that happened, and those memories will never go away.”
Sam’s nails dig crescents into his palm. One last question and then he can kill this bastard. “How long does it take to become a demon?”
The demon laughs. “Your brother,” it chortles, “could have been the best, given time.” The host’s eyes flash black. “He was Alistair’s favorite, and Lilith’s toy. No one ever leaves unscathed, little boy, and Dean Winchester is no different.”
Sam’s control snaps and the host coughs out demonsmoke before collapsing. He doesn’t even check the pulse as he stalks out.
Alistair’s favorite, and Lilith’s toy. And he himself Azazel’s chosen. Sam looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. A vicious circle of deals, starting with Mom and ending with Dean in Hell. And it would have continued with him, but no demon would deal.
They’d had Dean right where they wanted him. Your brother could have been the best, given time.
Sam takes one more breath and with it releases all his doubts. Dean’s alive again, saved from Hell by angels. He wasn’t there long enough to change. And Alistair is dead, leaving only Lilith. Sam will kill her, soon as he finds her, and then Dean’s free.
Dean’s free. He’s not in Hell and no demon will touch him ever again. Of that, Sam will make damn fucking sure.
Title: hope, faint and fleeting
Fandom: “Avatar: The Last Airbender”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.
Warnings: takes place during Iroh’s imprisonment; AU
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 550
Point of view: third
Found fifteen years after the ascension of Fire Lord Azula to the throne
Nephew,
We have a chance to restore balance, to return the world to peace. We can attempt to make amends for the sins of our ancestors, the Fire Lord Sozin and his heirs.
Tell me, dear nephew, do you know the blood that sings in you? You are the Fire Prince, firstborn of Fire Lord Ozai. I once was like you, Heir of the Fire Lord. But the throne was stolen from me when I was lost in grief.
I am Iroh, Dragon of the West. I learned at the feet of the original firebenders, two of the last dragons in the world. One of the greatest sins of Sozin was the hunting of dragons. I can only hope you meet them; they are beautiful, so powerful and graceful.
Nephew, you have so much potential. You are no prodigy like your sister-I know you have struggled. I know you think yourself a failure. But, dear nephew, you must realize that you are not just a firebender, not just the Crown Prince, the Heir of the Fire Lord. You are a direct descendent of Avatar Roku, and you have a chance to make amends.
You can change the world, my honorable nephew. You can aid the Avatar in his quest and begin anew, end the war, defeat my corrupt and tyrannical brother.
He, like his father and grandfather before him, cares nothing for the people of the Fire Nation, or the rest of the world. He only loves power.
I forgive you. When we see each other again, I will embrace you. I will tell you everything I should have before.
You were a boy when we first left, searching for the Avatar. You were a boy, so angry, so hurt. You were proud.
But now-I have listened to whispers, and I heard your speech to Ozai during the Black Sun. You were a boy when you chose Azula. You were confused and lost, reaching out for the familiar and the known. But now-now, my beloved nephew, you have become a man.
You are hope, like the Avatar. He is the catalyst, the center. He draws in power-you complete the four.
Find him. Convince him of your sincerity and join him. You have determination and strength, and the will to succeed. You are a warrior. You can finish his training.
We need you. Our family has so much to make amends for, and it can start with you.
We will meet again, dear nephew. Once the war is through, once Ozai has been defeated and Azula is no longer a threat, when you have ascended the throne and led our people into a new order-
I wish you well. You have so hard a road, but your destiny shines bright.
You have learned wisdom, and what not to be. Learn from the Avatar’s companions, and teach them we are not all tyrants. We are descended from dragons. We do not simply destroy; every flame is alive.
Zuko. You have so much potential. You have already survived so much. See this path to its end and you will be a Fire Lord the world can adore.
We will see each other again; this is I swear to you.
Title: where is it now, the glory and the dream?
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Wordsworth.
Warnings: future!fic
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 490
Point of view: third
Notes: prequel to “tonight, faith just ain’t enough”
When the great battle, the final battle of the war, started, Dean had still not chosen a side. He knew Samuel Winchester, the Demon King, Lucifer reborn, was not Sammy, the kid brother he read stories to and taught to play baseball. He wasn’t even sure if that man still existed.
But Samuel Winchester wore Sammy’s face, and Dean could not raise a hand against him.
So Sam had him stashed at the far edge of the killing ground, Asmodi’s forces as his guard, and went to war with Heaven.
Dean sat on the dirt, head cradled in his hands. He had failed horribly, let down Dad and Mom and the whole fucking world. Everything that Sam did-because Dean wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t kill Sam, even though Sam was no longer his brother, and the world, everyone Dean ever knew, paid the price.
Asmodi roared and Dean looked up. A cloud of fire and feathers whirled around Dean and the demons guarding him. before more than a few moments had passed, the demons were on the ground, sightless eyes staring.
Dean gaped as two angels landed. One slumped over and the other helped him kneel; he breathed heavily and Dean heard him gasp, “Kill me, brother.”
Closing his eyes, Dean tried not to listen as the second angel asked, “Is that truly your wish?”
“Yes. I am too weak to be of any aid. My final order to you: keep the human safe.”
Dean turned back just in time to see the injured angel be lowered completely to the dirt, eyes closed and face peaceful. The remaining angel stood and towered above him. “Hello again, Dean,” he said. “Come with me now.” He held out a hand.
The battle was winding down. Dean knew Sam had won. “Will you kill me?” he asked. “Because I won’t kill Sam.”
“I am to keep you safe, Dean Winchester,” the angel said. “My orders are from my brother Michael. You alone can stop your brother. You still could.” The angel crouched in front of him, silver eyes glinting in the sunlight. “I will keep you alive so that the option is still open.” He again held out his hand. “Come, Dean.”
Dean took his hand and the angel straightened, pulling him close, tucking him tight against the powerful chest.
“We’ve met before?” Dean asked.
“Yes,” the angel rumbled, stretching his wings. “Twice. The first time, you stood proud and would have come with me. The second time, you had just made up your mind when the choice was taken from both of us.”
The angel wrapped one arm around Dean. “Stay still,” he commanded. “We have far to go, and we must be gone before your brother catches on.”
“You’re Azrael,” he whispered.
The Angel of Death said nothing, launching into the clear, cloudless sky. Dean looked down and, though he saw Sam, he knew his brother was not there.