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fakeikemen · 4 years

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Katara's Grief

(This is my first attempt at a meta post and I know that this has probably been already done but I just needed to get it off my chest and go on a little rant and it kinda got long so bear with me.)

A lot of the hate on Katara stems from the fact that she keeps on mentioning her mother's death at every chance she gets and invalidates other people's pain to assert that her suffering is the worst of the lot.

And even though everybody is entitled to their own opinions, I'm gonna point out why I think the aforesaid claims are not exactly correct.

First we'll take a look at; Katara's Backstory:

We know that Kya is killed in a fire nation raid and that Katara had been the last person to see her alive before she leaves the tent on her mother's insistence. Only to come back a few moments later and find her dead body. This, in itself is a traumatising event.

So yes, her mother died. Other people in the story go through far worse. You're not wrong when you say that.

But what is more important in Katara's story is the aftermath of her mother's death.

As Sokka says while talking to Toph in "The Runaway" in B3 Ep7:

Sokka: When our mom died, that was the hardest time in my life. Our family was a mess, but Katara? She had so much strength. She stepped up and took on so much responsibility. She helped fill the void that was left by our mom.

As an eight year old, she had to force herself to grow up to step into her mother's shoes and raise herself and her elder brother and simultaneously look after the entire village after her father left to fight in the war. She had to do all of it by herself.

In face of all her responsibilities, she never really had the chance to simply be a grieving child lamenting the loss of her mother. She habituated herself to caring more about others than herself (We see this trait in the entire series as she acts as the stand-in mom friend for the entire Gaang with an exception of Suki and Zuko). She ended up bottling her feelings of grief, resentment, guilt and rage deep within herself.

She had to give up an extensive part of her childhood where most children focus on figuring themselves out, to become a mature and responsible person who was working as the immovable pillar holding up the family and even the whole village not much later.

She put up a strong front to help others and pretended to be fine even though she was hurting inside the whole time.

She could never find any closure from the situation. She never got over it.

Moving on to the criticisms:

1. Katara keeps on mentioning her mother like a broken record:

Here are the number of times Katara mentions her mother's death (not sure if that's all of it, lmk if there are any others):

1. In her first scene with Sokka

Katara: Ever since mom died, I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier!

2. A short while after she meets Aang

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.

3. A short while after she meets Haru

Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.

4. A short while after she meets Jet

Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation.

5. In the swamp after she sees a vision of her mother

Katara: I thought I saw Mom.

6. In the Crystal Catacombs with Zuko

Katara: I don't? How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through! Me personally! The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.

7. A short while after she meets Hama

Katara: We completely understand. We lost our mother in a raid.

8. Repeated mentions in The Southern Raiders episode

(Most of the episode basically)

The first mention with Sokka is in the middle of a siblings' spat where she tells off Sokka for trying to act as if he were superior when it was obvious that in the face of the gaping hole that was left by Kya's sudden death, Katara had shouldered much more responsibility.

When she tells it to Aang, she uses it as a proof that the Fire Nation is capable of immense cruelty and destruction.

The Gaang travel all around the world and meet different people affected by the war in different ways. So when Haru, Jet and Hama narrate their own stories, Katara sympathises with them and talks about Kya's death in lieu of "I understand, the Fire Nation hurt me too."

After they got separated, Aang, Sokka and Katara each had their visions and after they get back together, they all mention their visions and so does Katara.

When left alone in catacombs with Zuko, whom she considered as the face of the Fire Nation— the same Fire Nation that had her mother killed and forced her father to leave to fight in the war, she has a meltdown where she rightfully accuses him of all the bad things he's done and then breaks down while talking about how the war has cost her i.e., by causing her mother's death.

The Southern Raiders is the episode where Katara hunts down the man responsible for her mother's death. If you think mentioning Kya repeatedly in this episode is uncalled for, then I don't know what to tell you.

In all the incidents mentioned above, Katara mentioning her mother's death is a very natural occurrence is the respective conversations. She mostly talks about Kya's death to either extend her sympathy or to use it as an example of the ruthlessness of the Fire Nation.

Another fact to be noted is that 70% of the Gaang's storyline is followed via Katara from a narrative point of view. Plus, being the mom-friend, she acts as the spokesperson. Considering that Kya's death is a major event that played a huge role in shaping Katara's life and is also the source of her severe, unresolved trauma, which acts as the driving force of her story, it is only natural that she brings up this topic whenever she is engaging in a deeper conversation.

It is us as the viewers who have seen her from the start and already know about her mother's death and we see her talking to multiple people about it. Which is why it might come across as repetitive to some people.

While, Kya's death is not necessary information that everyone needs to know, Katara talking about it never comes across as a forced or unnatural.

2. Katara invalidates others' pain because she thinks she has suffered the most:

First of all, if anything, Katara is the most empathetic person of them all. As the mom-friend of the group, not only is she their constant moral support, she also helps them untangle and sort out their own feelings. She is also able to tap into issues that aren't said out loud.

Instances of Katara helping and supporting Aang, emotionally are uncountable.

She is the first one to notice Sokka's sour mood in B3 Ep4 "Sokka's Master". And even though his insecurities seem baseless, she validates him (by saying "I'm sorry you're feeling so down" instead of something like "That's a dumb thing to say") and knows exactly what to do to cheer him up.

In B3 Ep7 "The Runaway" she has the insight to understand that Toph's unruly behaviour is caused by the mixed feelings she has about her parents even though Toph's herself never talked about it.

She even reaches out to Zuko in B2 Ep19 "Crossroads of Destiny" even though she used to think of him as the face of the enemy.

But then there's The Southern Raiders.

Ah yes, that episode where Katara is extremely OOC and a total b*tch.

Agreed that she said some things that she definitely shouldn't have said. But like, she's just 14?? And has been hurting on the inside since she was 8?? And pretended to be fine just for the sake of other people?? Like, there's a limit to how much she can have her shit under control?? And she did a real good job of Sokka's upbringing and taking care of the village and taking care of Gaang on her own?? Some people out there are really willing to forget everything she has ever done just because she was mean for 5 minutes?? A traumatised 14 yo shouldn't be villianised and called toxic because she got mad and lashed out at people that one time??

But here's my take on the scene anyway:

When Aang gets to know that she's going to go face her mother's killer:

Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?

Katara: I knew you wouldn't understand.

Aang is a non-confrontational person who prefers running away from difficult situations as opposed to Katara who firmly stands her ground and is never afraid of confrontations. Katara had approached Aang only hoping that he would understand. But going by his dismissal, he obviously doesn't understand the burning need that she has to confront the man who had single-handedly destroyed her childhood. (Most people infer that what Katara means is that she thinks that Aang doesn't understand the pain of losing people. And so does Aang, I guess)

But things start getting even more tricky when:

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.

In all honesty, this is probably the most insensitive thing that she could've heard from anyone right then, let alone one of her closest friends. Hearing herself being compared to a homicidal maniac just because she wants to avenge her mother's killer. (No, I'm not justifying murder but there's a clear difference between homicide and avenging someone's death. And Aang may not be my favourite character but I do love him but this wasn't really a good thing to say either. And he wasn't even mentally distressed in the very least to be completely lacking tact or a filter.)

And then the situation escalates:

Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.

Katara: Then you didn't love her the way I did!

After 6 long years of Katara bottling in her dark feelings and letting them fester inside herself, she is finally letting them out and the first things she faces in a span of few minutes are outright rejection, invalidation of her feelings, comparison to a homicidal maniac and nothing akin to the unconditional support that she has provided to everybody. Her own brother tells her that he is siding with the boy who just compared her to a homicidal maniac.

Yes, accusing your own brother of not loving your mother enough is a very cruel thing to do. But both Sokka and Katara know that she doesn't entirely mean it.

But also, there is one very important factor in here:

In B3 Ep7 "The Runaway", Sokka says to Toph:

Sokka: I'm gonna tell you something crazy. I never told anyone this before, but honestly? I'm not sure I can remember what my mother looked like. It really seems like my whole life, Katara's been the one looking out for me. She's always been the one that's there. And now, when I try to remember my mom, Katara's is the only face I can picture.

Katara overhears this conversation just as Sokka had meant her to.

This dialogue lets us know that Sokka's coping mechanism has made him suppress all memories of Kya and replace them with memories of Katara in order to attain a semblance of normalcy.

Both Katara and Sokka had very different ways of coping with Kya's death. Katara pressed down her feelings and tried her best to pretend to ignore them while Sokka partially succeeded in forgetting her.

When Katara first hears these words she is shown to be crying. But if she were to remember these very words while she was justifying herself infront of her own brother and a close friend for wanting to avenge her mother, it would've had a negative impact on her.

In her rage, she would've thought: "Of course he doesn't want to avenge mom. Because he doesn't think it's worth it and that's because he doesn't even remember enough of her to be mad about her death."

And for someone who has spent each day of the last 6 years trying to fill in the shoes of her mother and experiencing her absence everyday, the idea of forgetting her mother is a ridiculous concept to her.

Her thoughts would have quickly derailed to: "He didn't love her enough to remember her."

In light of these thoughts, saying "Then you didn't love her the way I did" doesn't feel out of the blue.

No, I am definitely not justifying what she said, I'm just laying out a possible explanation to why she said what she said.

Yes, she should've apologized to Sokka for this and I think that they definitely should've had a long conversation about their mother's death and how it affected them. Between Katara supressing her feelings and Sokka supressing his memories, i don't think they ever had this conversation.

But sadly we are given neither of these scenes.

Tl;dr: Everytime Katara mentions her mother, it's with good reason and I don't think it's fair to call a character toxic when they lack a mind to mouth filter for 5 minutes and say some mean things. And considering all that Katara has done for everybody, it isn't fair at all.

Peace out!

#antis really be out there ignoring everything she does to hate on her because of two lines she said #nvm katara is one strong badass girl stan her for good grades and clear skin #katara #atla #atla meta #meta analysis #avatar the last airbender #water tribe #kya #sokka #hakoda #gaang #atla gaang #avatar gaang #zuko #aang #toph #ira's posts

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liibrii · 3 years

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Chapter 1 of Stillness || yokai hunter!Suna x fem!kitsune!reader || wc: 3.3k || 🦊

Synopsis: Arrival of an unexpected visitor promises your coming days to be interesting...

Genre: supernatural!au, enemies to lovers, angst & fluff, eventual smut

Warnings: reader is a nuisance, fire, mentions of blood

a/n: I'm no expert on Japanese mythology. I did my research but also took creative liberties so please keep in mind the information on yokai in this fic is lacking. Here are some links with basic info on yokai appearing in this series.

as always feedback is greatly appreciated and if you want to be tagged let me know!

A streak of the new highway is planned to cut through your favourite part of the forest, the one you walk through when heading east to the river kappas inhabit. First trees have already fallen. You caress the bark of the mighty maple that once touched the sky and now lays at your feet, cut and bleeding from the wounds humans inflicted. You still remember when it was a sprout pushing roots into earth and hungrily reaching for the sun rays. Half a century later you fell asleep under its shade and hid in his branches from those chasing you. Why is this how you say goodbye?

Forest spirits peek out of their hiding places, their terrified chimes fill the air. They cling to you, your clothes, your tails. Some you have to convince to leave the branches of the fallen trees, the hollows in their barks that have offered them sanctuary for so many long years. They cry in pain.

And pain has a way of turning into anger.

It's searing and all consuming, spreading through your body as bright blue flames shoot from your hands. They burn all standing in their path. Equipment of workers, their machines and their boxes of metal go up in flames. Truck standing by the fence catches on fire. You transform back into your fox form, running away as it explodes with a bang echoing through the night.

It's a lonely existence, being a kitsune. With years most of your kind have hidden in the forest, many have moved to cities living together with humans, pretending to be them. As if they could ever be. You hold a bit of pity for them but mostly you just don't understand. Why do they go where humans live? Why do they want to live as humans live? Humans are interesting and fun to observe, that much you never denied, but they are also cruel and blind and they drove so many of your kind away. Empty lairs is all they leave behind.

You water the flowers around the temple as you do every morning before heading to bed. From your pocket a forest spirit you've rescued from one of the fallen trees peeks out. Morning sun makes it blink and rattle in confusion. None of your words reassure it so you leave the matter be. It needs time. Time to breathe and time to heal. As you pull out some weeds from between the cobble stones it watches and chimes, sorrowfully.

“I can't say.“ Weeds in your hands catch aflame and whither. You lay them down on the black soil. “We will find you a nicer home. There is a beautiful cherry blossom tree growing by the entrance. Would you like that?“ It gives a soft chime. “We can have a look at it later, alright? Careful!“ you catch it on your outstretched palm. “Stay with me, I'm almost finished with my duties. Do you have a name? Ah I see,“ you nod when it chimes. “How about I call you Koda? Would you like that? Now make sure not to fall off again, alright?“ You help it climb on your shoulder.

Koda turns it's head in all directions taking in the sight. It's probably its first time seeing anything but endless sky and branches. Not that the temple is anything special. It's small, with only two wooden buildings in need of repair and pond you hold particularly dear. No ducks live near it. You brought a pair once in hopes they'd have ducklings to keep you company but sadly before a month passed they became dinner to passing yokai. Ever since the only ducks at the temple are the ones on the edges of the roof.

Surrounding trees grow closely together, casting long shadows over the roofs and the small yard. In their shade a steep staircase leads towards the entrance of the temple. Every morning and every evening you sweep the leaves from the stairs, picking up and keeping the ones you find particularly beautiful. The golden, the deep crimson, and bright green, ones sprouting first when spring arrives, are your favourite. Moss has overgrown most of the steps. Koda chimes for you to put it on it and it sits on the soft green blanket seeming calm for the first time. Its home was taken but what said it couldn't make a new one here, with you? The temple has been your home for as long as you can remember and you doubt you'll ever know any other.

Your new friend still watches in amazement (At least you think it's amazement. Even you find spirits' expressions hard to read) and when you return to check on offerings you consider waking Chochin to help you reassure it. After a short consideration you decide against the idea. The stillness of the early morning is your favourite part of the day after all and you'll hear from your possessed lantern before noon rolls around anyway. Besides Chochin would only scare already rattled Koda. You'd like to spare the spirit further shocks, at least for a while. Luckily most days the temple grounds stand deserted. With each passing year less and less humans come to pay their respect to Inari. Less and less fields are to be found in the area so it's no wonder they forget how much depends on good harvest. They take it for granted and they forget. If centuries have thought you anything is that humans are incredibly good at forgetting.

You're just about to sweep the two fox statues by the entrance when you catch the sound of approaching steps. One person. Must be an early riser. You make your tails disappear and straighten the sleeves of your hoodie before instructing Koda to hide.

A young man steps through the tori gate. He's tall and lanky, a beanpole with dark hair. Most people pant and heave for air when reaching the top. He looks like he just took a pleasant stroll in the park. He takes in his surroundings then walks over to you. “Good morning,“ he greets with a polite smile that doesn't quite reach his slanted eyes.

There's an aura surrounding him. You can tell he's the kind of man people take a second glance at when passing him by. If you asked them why they'd give you a confused look. “I, I have no idea,“ they'd answer, “There was... something.“ If you asked them an hour later they'd be even more confused because they have already forgotten about him. But he is the kind of a man who wants to be forgotten. How else would he hunt yokai in peace?

“Morning,“ you return the pleasantries. Koda in your pockets shivers.

“I'd like to pay my respects. Can I offer alone or-?“ If he's embarrassed by being unsure of how to proceed you can't tell it from his face. You show him to the temple and excuse yourself, aware of how his eyes follow you as you walk across the small courtyard. You don't want him here. But you can't deny him entry.

He doesn't scare you. He's as green as sprouting grass, too young to have any real experience. He probably only recently accepted yokai are real and not just a folktale used to scare children. You might be the first he'd ever meet. At least one that isn't harmless. Still there is something about his calm voice and bored expression that keeps you alerted.

Koda peeks out of your pocket and chimes, worriedly. “We'll see,“ you murmur in response and head over to the pond. It's so empty. Should you get some koi fish? Or would they all too soon become dinner too? Many of those yokai who remain are growing hungrier. Wilder. Hearing approaching footsteps you wonder if that is what brought Mr Witch to your humble abode.

“I've heard there's a kitsune living around here.“

You straighten and turn to face the unwelcome visitor. Was someone else in your shoes they'd act smart and deny their nature. But you can tell he isn't asking. He's just confirming what he already knows. “There is.“

Visibly taken aback he hesitates. “Is it you?“

“I am.“ You don't like his eyes. They are too fox-like.

He bows politely. “I'm Suna Rintarou.“

“Good for you.“

He ignores the poison in your voice. “News of someone destroying the construction site has reached Inarizaki Clan.“ Ah, that explains the lack of fear. If he's here with the backing of a clan naturally he'd feel secure enough to directly challenge you. “I was sent to let the ones responsible know their efforts are meaningless. The road will be built no matter what you- What they do.“

“Ask? Your kind doesn't ask.“

“This might be the one for history books then.“ His face irks you. There's no fear, no nerves showing, no twitch of his mouth or fingers to betray what he's thinking. Humans are as easy to read as open books but the young man in front of you is a blank sheet of paper.

“Leave,“ is all you answer.

To your surprise he bows and obeys. Watching him leave you think he should straighten up.

As the sun rises higher you head to bed, newcomer so heavy on your mind he haunts your dreams. The sole presence of a yokai hunter is something to be worried about. First one comes, then a second, next your kind is being chased away. The only reason you're still here is because the humans can't seem to figure out a way to chase you away for good. Not that they haven't tried. If only they knew worst things live deep in the woods.

When evening falls you sweep the stairs and leave still rattled Koda besides Chochin who disapprovingly rolls it's one eye at you.

The town is only a short run away. It's small, at least you think so since there aren't many you've visited in your relatively short life. You know every nook and cranny, you know which tombstones are nekomata's favourite, you know which of the old street cats will soon join them. They can be a handful but they're the closest thing to friends you have. You pass the old house where teenagers like to gather. Its cellar has been home to keukegen for years now. You catch a glimpse of a few leaving. No doubt the fault of that damn visitor.

The place he's staying at is easy to find. How careless of him. All you have to do is follow the magic of protective charms scattered across the town back to its source. They're sloppy. Almost as if a child made them. But some of them are particularly well made. Work of another clan member perhaps?

You hide in the bushes of the garden surrounding a small house. Mr Witch left the sliding door open. Even in the garden you smell herbs meant to ward away evil spirits. He's sitting on the floor and watching a curious looking thin screen similar to ones you've seen down at the train station. He seems disinterested. When he stands up and leaves the room you silently creep closer to peek inside. The smell of herbs is stronger here. You don't find it unpleasant though many of your yokai friends would disagree.

On the screen you see a map of the town. More maps lay on the low table. Some have scribbles you can't quite read, arrows, and question marks. You hear him returning and scurry back in the safe embrace of darkness and bushes. He sits back down to continue his work, not noticing you were in his home. You lean your head on your paws and watch.

Following Suna around becomes a daily routine. You sweep the stairs in the morning and water the flowers then run the fastest your legs can carry you to the town. Luckily for you he likes sleeping in. His days are uneventful. Boring to be honest. He eats breakfast. Goes to town. Looks at historical monuments downtown. Sits on the only bench in the park and eats ice cream. Heads to library. From time to time he visits the construction site to inquire if there have been any more incidents. There were a few but none of them were your doing. Mr Witch doesn't actually think you're the only one enraged by the new road, does he? Honestly as much as you detest it you're also a little relieved humans haven't decided to build over the northern part of the forest. That would be a lot more troublesome.

You follow on a safe distance as he inspects the surrounding trees, no doubt to chase away the remaining forest spirits. For a very long time he inspects some footprints. You carefully step closer trying to see what caught his attention. Suddenly he stands up and continues on his way. As you follow you glance at the ground. Ah, of course.

He heads back to town after that, returns home and you return to your spot in the bushes. Sun hasn't set yet, the day is still warm so he brings a low table out on the porch and pours two glasses of dark bubbly liquid.

“Are you going to keep hiding or will you join me for a drink? I have some tofu I can fry if you want. Kitsune like it, right?“ he asks without looking in your direction.

Crap. Well, no point in trying to be sneaky anymore. You step out, head raised high and your tails gracefully swaying with each step. A silver gem radiating light balances on the middle one. Once you reach porch you shapeshift to a human and hide the gem from Suna's eyes. You don't bother hiding the tails though and you take a sit across from him, carefully eyeing and sniffing the contents of the glass.

“Only three tails?“

“Are you judging my age?“

“Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.“ That's not what his face says. “Thank you for leaving the construction site be,“ he chats on seemingly unbothered by your icy glare. “You must've noticed those footprints too, right? Have any idea where I might find the owner?“

“That sounds like your job Mr Witch.“

“It's Suna actually.“ He keeps talking like you're old acquaintances and it's making your blood boil. “Can I ask for your name? Don't want to call you Miss Kitsune.“

“Why are you here?“

Suna gulps down half of his drink before answering. “To make sure construction continues without any accidents. You seem to think yourself some kind of a yokai protector. Then I'm a protector of humans.“

You bark a laugh. “As if your kind needs protecting.“

“All the people getting sick from those keukegen would disagree.“

“Sounds like it's their fault for not staying away from infested places,“ you retort.

“Then one easy fix would be getting rid of those infested places.“

“An undertaking you have no doubt already started.“

“I'm just doing my job.“

“You can't chase them away for long you know. Your kind has tried before. They always come back.“

You've hoped your words would elicit a response from him. Anything. A trace of frustration, an arrogant grin. Suna pours himself another glass. “Do you want some ice?“

“What I would very much like is for you to leave.“

A grin flashes over his face. “Get used to my presence because I won't go away for a very long time.“

So this is how he wants to play. He isn't the tiniest bit alerted when you abruptly stand up. “We'll see.“

Your daily routine continues. The only difference is you no longer care to hide. Wherever Suna goes you're not far behind. He wants to stay, play the protector of humans, does he? Pathetic. He doesn't seem to be bothered by you following him around. Just slightly unimpressed. It makes you want to set his pants on fire. Just to get a reaction. Just to see his expression change.

“How long do you plan on following me?“

“Who says I'm following you? World doesn't revolve around you Mr Witch. Maybe I just wanted to buy myself some mochi. Have you considered that?“ You pretend to be interested in melons on the shelf. “Aren't these kind of expensive?“

Suna ignores your question. “I'm grocery shopping. There are no yokai here. And I haven't even harmed anyone.“

“Yet. Such a short word. Yet. Somebody has to keep an eye on your nasty tricks.“ You peek into his shopping cart. “Instant ramen and crab chips? Even I know humans need some you know,“ you wave your hand trying to remember what it's called but the word is buried too deep in your memory, “healthy food!“ you say instead and place the most expensive melon in the cart. “Like fruit for example.“

“Put it back.“

“It's healthy.“

“It's expensive.“

“I got money.“ You pull a bundle of bank notes from your pocket.

He puts the melon back on the shelf and grabs the cart with more force than necessary. You hum contently before putting the money in your pocket where it changes back to leaves you picked up last autumn.

The sheer number of different products on the shelves amazes you. And also makes you a little sad. All the offering humans bring to the temple are just rice and tofu and sometimes curry. Not that you don't like rice and tofu but why can't they bring one of all these colourful sweets? Or the chips Suna just put in the cart. Would he notice if one of the bags disappeared?

Walking past the vegetable stand you grab three cucumber packages and plop them down in his cart. You notice he added a bag of brown rice to it.

“Really? Three packages?“ he asks.

“They're a gift for kappas up the stream,“ you smile, innocently.

“Buy them yourself. You got money, don't you?”

“Why, would you like some? What's the matter Mr Witch, job doesn't pay well? Maybe you should consider a career that doesn't rely on destroying our lives.“

“Maybe you should live a life that doesn't harm others.“

You grin, satisfied. And so facade begins to crumble. A loud cough distracts you from throwing back another insult. An older man gives the two of you a disapproving look before returning to reading labels.

Suna grabs the cart and continues his way to the next item on the crumpled shopping list. You trail behind looking like a lost puppy peeking from behind him to see what the next item on the list is, adding new items to the cart Suna immediately puts back in their place. Even by the register you add one more package of chewing gum to the pile.

“At least take one with a fruity flavour,“ says Suna so you grab two more packages with watermelon on them. You think you see his eye twitch though it might be just your imagination. While he puts the groceries in a bag you snatch a chocolate bar from the nearest shelf, then follow him outside to take the cucumbers from the bag he's holding.

“You've been quite busy yesterday,“ you remark as you walk down the street.

“Since you followed me around the entire time I take it you weren't.“ He outstretches his hand. “Your stuff was 700 yen. Pay up.“

You give him a crumbled wrapper.

“Any particular reason you're interested in the old Nishikawa house?“ you ask, continuing to smile innocently when Suna glares at you and puts the wrapper in his pocket.

“I thought you were the local expert on all things paranormal in this town. I'll let you guess twice.“ He peels the sticker off the bananas and sticks it on your forehead. “See you around Miss Kitsune.“

Ch. 2: Red beneath the moon

tag list: @blurring-stars

#suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #hqcorenet #hq #haikyuu fanfic #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #inarizaki #suna fanfic #stillness #libri scribbles

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tomishaped · 3 years

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Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence • Major Character Death

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Supernatural

Relationship:

Dean Winchester!Izzy Hlton

Characters:

Dean Winchester • Izzy Hilton • Sam Winchester • Asmodeus • Dagon • Demons • Hellhound • Ellen Harvelle • Jo Harvelle • Hunters • Crowley • Charlie Bradbury • Bobby Singer • Ruby • Death • Pestilence • Famine • War • Castiel • Angels • Cain

Additional Tags:

Demon Dean Winchester • Demon Sex • Kidnapping • Gay Sex • Blood • Blood Kink • Hate Sex • Love/Hate • Major Character Injury • Major Original Character(s) • Character Death • Past Child Abuse • Past Rape/Non-con • Past Sexual Abuse • Past Torture • Past Violence • Canon-Typical Violence • Violence • Protective Dean Winchester • Bisexual Dean Winchester • Top Dean Winchester • Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings • Izzy is too • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Emotional/Psychological Abuse

Summary: After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

Previous Chapters

• Chapter One •

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Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave

Part One

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When they had reached the car Dean made quick work of the door locks and got them both inside before he punched it, only leaving squealing tires and smoke behind them as they took off. Dean didn’t start to relax till they were a mile or so away from the group of demons, still keeping an eye on the mirrors though just in case. “You really pissed someone off," he said with a grin as he glanced over at the other while he drove.

Izzy did manage to force himself to relax once they were in the car, though Dean still happened to look tense with the way he was looking out his mirrors for someone. Honestly, it probably helped the demon to relax with the fact that Izrael couldn't feel Dagon as close anymore. She was either losing interest or losing track of them for now, either way that worked for him. "Huh?" He was honestly confused at first when Dean said that, "Why would you think I pissed some- oh! Because of all that? Right. Yeah. They don't seem to fond of me, do they? I should probably stop crashing into their parties like that."

Izrael shifted in the seat a little and rolled his eyes when he saw the man look out his mirrors again, "You can stop doing that now. We're fine, mommy lost us," he said with a shrug, leaning back in the seat again, trying to get comfortable. He was ready to get out of the Winchesters car now, and he would really like to do it without having to kill the hunter next to him in order to keep him from following or trying to track him. Even if he didn't have an issue with killing humans, he didn't know which way Dean's soul would go now and having it back in the pit after he killed him could possibly become… problematic. "So uh, yeah, you can just drop me off whenever now and can go get back too… whatever the hell you were doing before joining me at that lovely party tonight. I'm actually supposed to be at a different party right now anyways, so anywhere is good."

Dean snickered when the other said that they had crashed a few parties, it made sense. He did raise an eyebrow when he was told that the horde had backed off of them. Granted he hadn’t noticed any one but still, he never trusted demons to give up. “To be honest, I was out looking for a good time… guess I found it,” he said with a wicked grin, still feeling a bit of an adrenaline high from the fight and sprint to the car. “Rest of my evening is open if you want some back up,” he offered the blond. “Not saying you can’t handle yourself, I saw your moves back there but… twenty to one is a bit much,” he said while giving him a bit of a doubtful side look.

This is what Dean thought of as a good time? The human was either suicidal or crazy. Sure, Izzy did have fun doing shit like this too, but he was a demon- he was fucking crazy. "Mmm, yeah… it was a bit much till you showed up. Definitely would have ended up losing this jacket," Izrael laughed a little at Dean and shook his head, "See, I haven't gone and learned my lesson yet it seems since I'm definitely gonna be crashing one of their parties again. Gotta find it first though, and I can't do that in a strangers car."

Dean raised an eyebrow when the blond mentioned that they weren’t done yet and was looking to start a similar party to where he just found them. Ok sure he had been doing stupid stuff since he got back but he had an excuse. He was trying to repress what felt like forty years of Hell - literal Hell. So what was this kid's excuse? She might be crazy, but her crazy was also kinda hot and hunters like this don’t tend to stick in one place long because of the next big hunt. Besides, too often if they stayed in one place for long then all the enemies they made along the way had a tendency to catch up to them. “I can drop you off wherever your next party is so you don’t get jumped on the way again…” Dean trailed off a little as he drove, “could at least tell me your name before you get yourself killed.”

Izrael smiled at the hunter. "Why would I give someone I've never met in this life my name? Doesn't sound too smart. Besides, I don't see you passing over that information either."

Dean grinned. “Sorry, thought you picked it up before things got hairy. Names Dean, Dean Winchester," he said as he held a hand out to shake as he drove, glancing at the blond but mostly keeping his eyes on the road. “You know demons can’t keep their big mouths shut, if your next party is anything like that one, they’re going to be ready for you and you’re going to lose more than your jacket, sweetheart," he said in a matter of fact tone. “Might be a better idea to show up with back up and armed to the teeth,” he offered with a mischievous grin. “Lucky for you I know the perfect place.”

His excuse? His absolute only memories were of hell. Turning into a demon the way he had had wiped out all his human memories and the little demon only knew the last sixty years he had spent in hell training to do just this. He wasn't trying to repress hell, why repress when it was all he knew? He was just doing what Asmodues sent him off to do, and with the youngest prince of hell being the closest person to the blond and having nothing else to really do… he listened. He enjoyed killing other demons, it was a task he found fun. But when your job is to kill any demon that stands against the man you're working for, you don't exactly make any friends. And being alone only gave him more time to hunt down Asmodues's enemies. It was a vicious never ending cycle that wasn't going to change anytime soon as far as Izrael could tell. Hell either hated him, feared him, or admired him from afar - very afar. No one was brave enough to chance getting on Izzy's bad side. And those that were like the hoard tonight that actually tried to kill him were just too stupid to stay away and deserved to die anyways as far as he was concerned.

Of course he knew who Dean was once he heard his name. But the hunter didn't need to know that Izrael had heard of him. He eyed the other’s hand for a moment before he sighed and half gave in to the man, though didn't reach his own hand out, "Izzy Hilton," he said, using the name that Asmodues had given him for when he had to pretend to be human. Though he had no idea that it actually was his name. That Asmodues called him Izrael to see if any of the once nineteen year old’s memories would spark with little clues like that. It never did. "They're always on the lookout for me… wouldn't be anything new…" he said with a little shrug, getting the gut feeling that this hunter was not about to let him go off on his own anytime soon. The last thing the little demon needed was to do spend time with a fucking Wincester, especially the one that spent all that time in hell. "No offense, but I don't really work with others. Thanks for the help back there and everything, but you're Dean Winchester… so you and I working together is a bad idea. Trust me."

With both hands back on the wheel, Dean snorted when Izzy said that demons watching out was nothing new. He understood that, that's what made the Bunker so beautiful. It was the definition of a safe house for spooky shit and basically everything else. He sucked some air between his teeth when it seemed the other knew who he was by name, having heard some of the stuff hunters thought of him while he was putting in time at the Roadhouse. “Fair, I mean we did just meet and I also just saved your ass from a fucking gaggle of demons, but okay,” he said, half joking. “We don’t know each other, and inviting you to my secret Men of Letters bunker can seem a little Silence of the Lambs but I promise, imma damn puppy dog compared to your normal party guests,” he said,. Ane yes, he did just name drop the Men of Letters to see if that helped his case. Dean wasn’t a creep and if Izzy wanted out he’d drop them off wherever they wanted but all horn-dog habits aside, he wouldn’t rest well if he did. He’d probably end up asking around and looking into this pretty Izzy Hilton to see what her story was about. “Again, I know bunker can be off putting, but this place is huge, over twenty bedrooms to pick from. It’s armed to the teeth so nothing is getting in. I have one of the few keys to get in but you can get out whenever you like,” he added, trying to seem a little less kidnappy and rapey. “That and there's a hundred year old whiskey collection.”

Izzy had absolutely zero ideas of what other hunters thought of the man he was currently sitting next too. Up until now, he had done a really good job at avoiding them in his travels and work. Sure, to be on the safe side he did do some research on hunters who seemed to be the biggest threats but until now he hadn't actually met any of them. So, right now he couldn't figure out if it was just bad fucking luck that Dean Winchester happened to walk in on his ambush, or some weird good luck to get him out of it unharmed. Even after over fifty years as a demon, almost sixty now maybe? He honestly had never actually hurt a human. So did he deserve this kind of bad luck? On the other hand though, can demons actually have good luck? It was really confusing.

Fact was, Izzy only knew of Dean Winchester from the mouths of other demons. His research on hunters in general was by word of mouth in hell. It wasn't like there were any books he could read on them. So he knew the man was obviously a good hunter, and not just when it came to demons. He knew the idiot sold his soul to save that dumbass brother of his that was hanging around one of the main demons on his own hit list. It was just really hard to get to the bitch when she was being protected by the hunter drinking demon blood. He only knew that from actually running across her once, he could fucking smell the demon blood radiating from the human she was with and it didn't take long to figure out who that human was and what fucking Ruby was doing with him. Little Sammy Winchester. Lovely. He also knew the man next to him spent what was like forty years in hell, being tortured for most of them by fucking Alastair. It had come as a surprise when he heard that there was some sort of angel watching out for him. Well, the angel part wasn't really known when he figured it out. It was just known that the man was pulled out of hell and Izrael knew that an Angel was the only way the man could have escaped hell and returned to his body the way he had. And really, he would prefer to avoid angels. Most demons weren't really that much of a threat to him. They could likely hurt him but Izzy was not easy to actually kill. Not that they had quite figured that out yet. But he had no idea what an angel might be able to do to him.

Izrael couldn't remember his own torture. He actually had no idea it even happened. Ever since the day Asmodues found his newly turned demon in that cage he kept his pet in, the youngest prince acted as though that was the first day of Izzy's life. He didn't even know that he was in that cage because of that man in the first place. "I'm not afraid of you, Dean, even though I'm pretty damn sure you're no puppy dog," Izzy told him with a little roll of his eyes, the man who had spent his last few years in hell torturing other souls was far from a puppy. But he had caught Izzy's attention mentioning the Men of Letters. He vaguely remembered Asmodues mentioning them decades ago. Something about them being all dead now… about them holding knowledge no one else had. Going to this bunker… could prove useful if the knowledge thing was true.

Izzy finally looked over at Dean again, tucking hair behind his ears, "Well whiskey is always a very good and tempting offer," he said, chewing on his lip a little as he thought it over. "If you're all armed like you say you are… Do you also have books and shit? Like, books on demons and shit." Izzy knew he had been turned differently than almost every other demon that existed, he had to have been to have his own body and no ability whatsoever to jump from one meatsuit to the next, but he had no idea what happened to make him this way. And no book he had found since being set loose on the world had been able to give him the answer he was looking for. If this bunker had hidden knowledge it might be his best bet to find out how he turned, because Asmodues wasn't telling him anytime soon. "And I really wouldn't have to just stay if I don't want to. I can just walk out? Seriously?"

Dean just grinned when the other said he was pretty sure he wasn’t a puppy, calling him out like that. And he believed them when they said that they weren’t scared of him, he did find her in the middle of a demon infested alleyway in the middle of the night. His grin grew when Izzy seemed to be mulling the thought over. He raised an eyebrow and chanced a longer glance at the other when he was asked about books. That he hadn’t been expecting, didn’t peg her for a book type. There might be something they were looking for specifically that the old bats had locked away. He would definitely be doing an inventory check but hey it sounded like they were coming around to the idea. A new face and alone time might do him some good, even if they don't get handsy and this Izzy turned out to be a gigantic book worm.

“Like I said you need a magic key to get in but getting out isn’t a problem, locks behind you but I gotta warn you the cell service sucks,” he said with a smile. He altered his route and started out of town and toward the bunker. The long ride was pretty much silent after that, Dean was honestly a bit too nervous to say something and have the blond change her mind about coming. He couldn't help wanting to help her, wanting to figure her out at least a little. From wanting to protect the little thing and knowing that he would just worry about them at this point. “Just don’t take anything, alright? Not really supposed to take people to the BatCave but…” he trailed off with a shrug after he parked by the bunker, obviously making an exception for the blond right now.

Izzy shrugged when he mentioned cell service, that meant pretty much nothing to him. Of course he knew what a cell phone was, he had been in this world long enough. But he never felt the need to get one. Who the hell was he gonna call? "No big deal, no cell phone. I was serious, I've never worked with someone else before. Never felt the need to get one," he shrugged, as little like it was normal or something to not have a cell this day and age. He honestly didn't actually know either way though. "And I don't plan on taking anything. I've got my own weapons and shit. Just… looking for a little info is all. If you happen to have a book with what I want to know, well, then I won't really need it anymore once I read it." He ignored the Bat Cave comment for the moment, not wanting to let the hunter next to him realize he actually understood the reference. He especially didn't want him to know he found it amusing.

Dean decided to leave Baby in a little hidden knook they made for when they didn’t plan on staying long and putting her in the very nice garage. He just grinned as they walked up to the old green doors after grabbing a bag from the trunk and he pulled it open for the other. Once past the first threshold Dean unlocked the second doors and stepped through, holding it open for the other. “This is the legacy of the Men of Letters, a bit old and dusty but we’re still fixing the place up.” he said as they made their way down the spirling, metal staircase. He walked past the light up map table and tossed his bag on the first long table in the library. “Wanna tour?” he asked as he turned to the other, smiling at them.

He just wanted a fucking book that explained how humans became demons. Without their souls spending hundreds of years tortured in hell. Asmodues had no choice but to tell him that he turned differently than everyone else when he realized he couldn't just jump from meat suit to meat suit like everyone else could. His soul never left his body, something in him changed while he was still a human. But that was all Asmodues would say on the subject. Honestly it was the one thing about the man who called himself Izzy's master that drove him absolutely insane. He didn't care so much about whatever his human life was since he couldn't miss what he didn't remember or had any sort of idea what it might have been like, but he did want to know why he turned into a demon. Was he evil in his previous life? Is that how it worked? He remembered someone once saying that he must have cracked to change the way he did, but cracked from what and how? He just wanted to know how the fuck he came into existence. What made him so different from other demons. Why even Dagon, who knew that Izzy couldn't kill her without that oh so special gun, feared him to some extent. And nothing he had found so far explained any of that shit. Was he a bookworm? Mmm, debatable. Ask any demon who knew him they'd say no,, but Izzy was really good at keeping things about himself pretty damn secret. The less people knew the less they had on you and the safer you were. But the truth was that he did love books, loved to read and learn. And now that he wasn't under Asmodues' thumb at all times and had a mission to carry out, he was able to use research for said mission as an excuse to read. Sure, he was actually doing research but for so much more than anyone actually knew.

Izzy was a bit unsure following Dean into the bunker when they got there. This could be a really, really stupid idea. But on the other hand… he was going to have info on the Winchester's no one else could possibly dream of having and he might get a few other answers out of this as well so he followed along. He looked around as Dean led him through the place, tilting his head and letting a confused little look cross his face as he tilted his head back to see the ceiling, "Uh, sure, if you want. So, do you keep the bats in some special room or something? I kinda just pictured them all over the place."

Her not havung a phone probably should have set off more red fags then it did because even if you were a loner it was useful to have one since pay phones were all but extinct. He tilted his own head when Izzy had mentioned bats, that had been a reaction he might have expected from Cas but really? “It’s not really a batca-... never mind. This is our fortress,” he said, just trying to get past what he felt was a painful moment. He turned on his heel and held up his arms out on either side as he gestured to the books. “This is the library. Nothing says stuffy bookworms like having a library right at the front door right?” He said with a laugh, turning completely to face the other as he walked around one of the tables.

If Izrael actually cared much about completely blending in when he was going by Izzy he probably would have gotten a cell phone. But truth be told, he didn't actually care what humans thought about him and despite Asmodues having insisted he play the part on earth he could probably count on one hand how many times he had ever used the name Izzy before. Since he usually avoided hunters he rarely ever felt the need too. So really… What was the point of carrying around a little electronic box used to call people? The only person who would ever actually want to get ahold of him had his own ways of doing so. But even Asmodues left Izzy to himself for the most part nowadays as long as he kept doing what he was told and continued to work his damnedest to keep Lucifer in his box. Though if he had realized how odd it actually was to not have one, he wouldn't have mentioned it.

Of course it wasn't actually a Bat Cave. It almost annoyed him that the hunter found it so easy to believe that the batman reference really meant nothing to the blond. Sure, part of him was glad too because he didn't want the fact that he enjoyed those comics to be known by anyone, but still… how stupid did this hunter think he really was if he believed that Izzy? He was pretty sure that Batman was popular among humans. It was the Winchester thinking he was dumb that bothered him more than anything though, because that was just not true. Izzy had always been rather smart, even before he turned, he had a near photographic memory. But with all memories of humanity gone, and those memories being from close to sixty years before anyways, all that was left was hell and the supernatural. And he figured that shit out quickly, easily. Humans, not so much. Humanity and what they were like and what they did like were never on his list of things he needed to learn about. Humans weren't his targets. "No offense, but you don't exactly strike me as the bookworm type," he said, moving around the table to go and look at the spines of the books, fingers running lightly over them. Yeah, this would definitely be his best bet at finding answers. Some of these were obviously old as fuck. "The kill first and ask questions later type. Though I suppose since all you hunters go after everything supernatural, you need the lore books, huh?" He personally didn't bother with any other supernatural beings, just the demons on Lucifer and Dagon's side. Which was probably a good thing for them, if this little demon were to ever start working as a real hunter with someone like Dean… they wouldn't stand a chance. As they had proved earlier… the two of them working on the same side had some pretty nasty consequences for those fighting against them.

Dean chuckled when Izzy said he didn’t seem like the book worm type, oh hell no that was Sammy’s department. “Yeah no, that's more my brother's thing,” he said as he walked over to the opposite wall, towards the small table with a few bottles filled clear, brown liquid and a few glasses. “I at least wait long enough to see what I'm fighting so I know how to kill it.” Dean poured them a few glasses and headed to the closest main table to the blond. He leaned against it on his hip and took a sip from his glass while he held out the other to Izzy. The other’s wording did strike him as odd though and he raised an eyebrow a little. The way he said it was just off, but Dean wanted to think Izzy was just into demons, and therefore could know some pretty useful stuff. That or maybe he was really green and thought of himself being different from regular hunters. His gut was telling him something was still off though, but he wasn’t sure what.

Izzy was glad his back was to the hunter when he mentioned his brother so he didn't see the little demon roll his eyes and scowl at the mention of that junkie who was seriously getting in his way with that bitch he was attached to. He was pretending he didn't really know much about them… which wasn't a complete lie, but he had a serious suspicion he knew something about the younger Winchester that Dean didn't. He might know about the demon bitch Sam hung out with but he highly doubted this man knew about the blood and psychic shit that boy was playing with. The psychic shit was honestly the main reason he hadn't gone after Ruby yet, he wasn't like other demons, he had no idea how Sam's little exercising shit would affect him.

“You know, you never mentioned what you were looking into. I’m guessing something demon related,” he mentioned to the other. There wasn’t much small talk on the car ride over.

He didn't say anything for a bit while Dean spoke and walked around the room, more interested in looking through the shelves of books for anything that looked promising. But he never let his guard down really, constantly aware of where Dean was around him or how close he was. He stiffened a bit when he felt Dean closer again and he asked that direct question. Izzy didn't really want to answer anything he was asked, but avoiding taking to him too much might just seem more suspicious. Fuck. He really should have paid more attention to the humans around him the last decade, he was really bad at trying to be one. "Yeah, demon related," Izzy finally said as he turned around and saw Dean holding out the whiskey he had promised. Alcohol didn't really affect him as much as it did humans unless he drank an ungodly amount so he wasn't worried about drinking at least.

He took the glass offered to him and leaned against the bookshelf behind him, shrugging his shoulder a little, "Don't know if you picked up on it during that whole ambush shit, but I kinda hunt demons. Apparently I'm pretty good at it since they don't seem to like me much at all." He took a drink from the whiskey he was given, relishing in the burn that goes down his throat. As a demon, the little blond didn't need to eat. The few times he did were few and far between and it was always for some reason he couldn't figure out, but knew he just wanted whatever the hell it was that he was trying. But he did like to drink. Alcohol that is. He liked the burn.

"Just curious what kind of people become demons and how. Always good for a guy to know everything he can about his enemies and all, yanno?" It wasn't a lie. He had actually been avoiding actually lying to the hunter. Izzy didn't like to lie, it was too hard to remember the fake information he had given to who. So the only thing he had lied about was his name, but that wasn't that big of a lie as Izzy did sound like a nickname for Izrael. Mostly, he was just leaving out details he didn't think Dean needed to know. Like the fact he was a demon and really just wanted to know how he, himself, had turned. How demons like him were made. Because as far as the books he had found about demons elsewhere knew, Cain was the only other person to become a demon this way. And almost nothing was fucking known about that man. As a matter of fact, he was the one demon who no matter how hard he tried Izzy could not fucking find. Not that he had really looked into how to find him. He didn't want to kill Cain like he did with everyone else he hunted down, he wanted answers. But even so, he knew Cain wasn't exactly like him and probably didn't have the answers he wanted. So that had just been another fucking dead end. The little blond didn't do a whole lot of shit that he actually wanted to do or something anyways, ninety percent of his time was spent following Asmodues' orders to hunt down Dagon's followers and make sure Lucifer didn't get out of that cage.

Dean nodded a little when the other confirmed that it was demon related, easy guess. “You don’t pick up that kind of attention without being a major pain in their ass,” he said with a snicker. The man's shoulders stiffened when he took another drink when Izzy said what he was looking into. What kind of people become demons. He forced back a smile and shifted a little as he tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not let it run off with the flashbacks and nightmares he has. It felt like every time he blinked he was hit with a flash of something he’d seen or had done. He told everyone he didn't’ remember any of it and refused to talk about it and self medicated with liquor like any good hunter.

Well duh, obviously he was a pain in their asses. Two dozen of them had actually gotten together without someone in power telling them what to do to try and take him out. They failed, miserably thanks to the hunter near him right now, but it didn't negate the fact that Izzy was a huge threat to them and their plans. Really though, if the whole fucking lot of them just fucking stopped trying to set Lucifer free Izzy would have no problem leaving them alone. But until that happened…. He had a job to do. What the hell would he do with himself if Asmodeus actually managed to take the crown and this mission was over? He'd actually never thought about that before. Every single memory he had had something to do with him having to keep Lucifer in the cage.

“Well demons are mostly twisted and tortured souls. You get twisted up so much down there you turn into something else,” he said, rubbing at his brow as he fidgeted a little as he spoke. “At the end of the day they're a spirit, just nastier. You don’t normally catch one running around before they possess someone but the same tricks apply, salt and iron,” he told him, running off a few things off the top of his head, mostly from first hand experience. “I’m sure you know all about devils traps and all that,” he said, waving his hand and finally looking over at the other. It was probably a good thing Dean had been so caught up with that Izzy was looking into that he completely missed the suspicious pronoun.

Izzy couldn't help but roll his eyes at Dean when the man just told him shit he already knew. Was he actually under the impression that someone he thought was a legit demon hunter didn't know that shit already? Also. He was wrong. While holy water did have the same effect on him that it did to most demons, salt and iron actually didn't bother him for some reason. Every single voice in his head was screaming at him to keep his mouth shut for a while, to not get sucked into this conversation. But the thing was… he actually wanted to talk about this shit. He never talked with anyone about shit he actually wanted too. Demons avoided him unless they were trying to kill him, he avoided humans and hunters, and Asmodues pretty much just told him what to do. The little demon didn't actually have any memories of just talking with someone about something he was interested in. And this happened to be the biggest fucking intrest he really had right now.

"See, right there just proves you really have no fucking clue what you're actually dealing with, do you? Obviously being tortured in hell is going to fuck up any soul in some way, but not every soul in hell becomes a demon. This world would be fucked if they did. There are millions and millions of souls in hell." He only just stopped himself from pointing out that despite Dean's own torture and escapades with Alastair he didn't actually turn into a demon. No, a fucking angel actually came and pulled him from the pit. So what the hell was it that made some souls twist the same way he had even though he hadn't gone through that die and be tortured shit and made others just… well, be tortured for all eternity. Or torture as was the case with some. "Yeah, most of them are just nastier twisted spirits, and you don't normally see one walking around without someone else's meat suit… but they can. It's apparently super fucking rare for it to happen, but a human can just wake up a demon somehow. In their own skin and everything. So I want to know what makes the souls that twist that way different from those that don't. What kind of person they must have been. And what happens to those people who turn? How does that happen? But unfortunately, because it's so fucking rare, I haven't been able to find a single book in the last ten years that actually explains that shit." He sighed a little in frustration at the thought before just shaking his head and finishing the rest of his own drink before he turned his back to Dean again to start looking through the books again, waving his own hand in dismissal of the subject. Dean wasn't going to have the answers he wanted obviously. "But yes, of course I know all about devils traps. I just don't use them." He couldn't if he wanted too, not unless he wanted to get stuck inside one himself. Besides, even if he could… with the way he hunted, it would be pretty damn useless and time consuming to try since it was usually a sneak attack/ambush of his own on their own grounds. Wasting time with a devils trap when it was just so much easier to kill them just seemed stupid. "Do you have any sort of order with these books or am I gonna have to look through all of them to find the ones about demons?"

Dean was a little taken back when Izzy said that he had no clue about demons. He felt anger rise up in his belly and his face tightened some. His pride didn’t like that but the built up emotion subsided the more Izzy spoke. He did have a point, if that’s all it took then Hell would be nothing but demons. He never really focused on the fine details, he just killed them. His face became a mix of surprises and doubt when Izzy kept going and told him about the type of demons that keep their bodies. What the hell? He’d never heard of something like that before, what the hell could it be capable of? It was a worrying thought. “This keeps getting better and better,” Dean muttered under his breath. He couldn't stop his brain from thinking about his younger brother on his road trip with his little demon buddy. What if that was Ruby's plan, twist his brother into one of them? He’d fucking gank that bitch before she could try. He wanted to call and check up but that hadn’t gone so well last time.

He made a small face when Izzy asked about an order to the crazy amount of information. He finished his half glass of whiskey and pushed off of the table, setting the glass down before walking away. “I have a feeling what we’re looking for isn’t in here, come on,” He said, motioning the other to follow him with a head nod. He led the blond down the hall a bit, through another doorway and down some stairs. He pushed one of the two heavy doors open and held it open for the other hunter. “When we started going through the stuff that was left here we found that most of the heavy reading books are in here,” He told him. The room was about 25 by 25 feet, metal shelving lined all the walls filled with books and some jars. There was a decent sized table in the middle of the room under the only light, taking up a good chunk of the free space.

Dean just nearly kidnapped the little blond he helped out that he knew nothing about other than the fact he could kill demons pretty damn well and brought him to his secret bunker and he thought anything that came out of this idea wouldn't be completely fucked? Hell. He was pretty damn sure that Dean didn't even realize yet that he hadn't stepped in to help a pretty little girl, but actually a boy who just happened to look a lot like one. Add on to that fact that this boy was also one of those freaky ass demons he was just talking about and you could see clearly that this man definitely hadn't thought this through. "You have no idea," Izzy mumbled back, not sure or honestly even caring if Dean heard him.

Izzy set down the glass still in his hand before he shrugged again and followed Dean through the bunker. Fuck. This place really was huge. Izzy couldn't help but grin a little when he looked into the room. Dark. Enclosed. No way for anyone to try and sneak up on him again. Exactly the kind of rooms he liked and usually worked in when he was looking for a party to crash. "Awesome," he said as he walked in the room. Creepy jars and big old books lining the walls on top of everything else, Izzy had instantly and probably noticeably relaxed more when he was in the room that was so much like a place he would actually want to be in. He didn't say anything else as he started scanning the books on one of the shelves, his eyes widening some when he saw what he instantly felt like he had been looking for for years now. It was smaller than any of the other books in here, but that wasn't surprising considering how little information there probably was at all on demons like him. Humans Turning Demon.

Izzy grabbed the book off the shelf and took a few steps backwards to push himself up to sit on the table, just remembering that Dean was there as he went to open the book. "Uhm… thanks," he said, forcing himself to remember that he was supposed to be a human and actually used to having someone around and even weirder for him- that someone helping him. "Hey… uh, why are you being so like… nice and normal to me? As far as I've seen, people aren't just nice to strangers. Especially when said stranger is a pretty boy who can shove a knife into a human skull."

Dean noticed the small change in the others' demeanor when he showed them the room. The room didn’t bother him or his brother too much but ‘awesome’ wasn’t the normal reaction to this stuff. Though in this line of work, who’s really normal? You see a lot of weird and horrible shit fast and you pick up a few quirks along the way. He had half turned when the other called out to him and thanked him, he was going to leave Izzy alone to do their digging. He raised an eyebrow when he was asked why he was being so helpful. He opened his mouth with a grin to say it was just the right thing to do for a lady when Izzy said that last part, his words luckily getting caught up in his throat. BOY!? WHOLY FUCK!! Dean’s back straightened as he looked the other over again. It took him a second or two to catch himself and he cleared his throat out a little. “Well you want demons dead and I want demons dead,” he said with a shrug, his brain still trying to absorb this enlightening new detail about the blond. “And I learned about a new fleshy kind of demon, win win,” Dean chuckled. Hell all of Dean seemed stiff. Right now, he honestly didn’t know what the fuck to do.

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sirro85-blog · 5 years

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Dark Horses 6

So, what are the Xhost? Now, so long after they have left the stars it's a question that can be asked.

The Xhost were an idea that became a cult, if humans are more durable and Rhul are faster and Biviladi are more adaptable to environmental changes what if instead of celebrating the diversity we examined the discrepancies and found a common ground?

A noble thought, corrupted, corrupted into the Xhost where races were genetically modified to be a bit of everything, differences were no longer celebrated as part of a more fantastic whole but instead were vilified as non-conforming.

To the Xhost purity was required, variation was the enemy.

Kovac sat against the wall looking at his friends, Wolf shook his head and turned to Dorman for support.

"No," said Kovac, " you both have opinions and you're both entitled to them, but you're wrong.

It's as simple as this. Iron man is the greatest superhero, all those with superpowers built in can fuck right off, if your solution to a problem is punching harder then you're not a solution. Iron man's super power is thinking better than all of the others, he figures stuff out, after that his inventions win fights. All the other smart guys either have powers or their limited, I mean Batman isn't a one man army. Reed Richards works stuff out then relies on being Mr Fantastic to solve the problem.

Also Tony fights butt naked and the rest don't."

Kovac looked at his friends and smiled at their faces, "look it's this simple, your mind, the human mind is the greatest weapon in the galaxy. Now the second lesson I have to teach you is this simple, no matter what your taste in music one song needs special attention."

"We Will Rick You, by Queen will be remembered as a Pride song but it shouldn't be. What really matters is the solo or fade out; that piece of guitar play by May...everything else is just delivery for that.

Finally, if you're not happy, watching bad television at 0400 with you're partner then you're relationship won't last, if their presence doesn't bring you joy then move on.

Right that's about it, that's my life time knowledge, guess we should see this out then." Kovac stood.

Outside the Xhost forces had swept across the continent.

"Major, you know that the General will mobilise to defend us, even with the bones of a brigade. Major General Michaela Jones will be here," Wolf said.

"I know Wolf, the question has always been how do we drive the Xhost back? They control more sectors than the Rhul and the Flet together, they control more planet's than the Korlax."

"They've never defeated the Galactic Council forces though." Dorman countered.

"Well that's not strictly true, they've never won a war against the GCDF but they've always required mobilising core divisions and I hate to say it but that means human troops, we're the backbone of the GCDF without our presence the Xhost have seen success."

"You really don't think we can save the Towoli? Or the EDC?" Wolf asked morose.

"With a squadron of combat engineers? No." The Major was terse in his response.

Captain Becca looked out at the gathering darkness, "three days to capture the Towoli and secure the cities, so on the fourth day they turn around and hit the EDC, they're dug in now, so they last, maybe another four days and then it us. In this position we can last, maybe three days. That gives the Major-general two weeks, to raise at least a brigade and to get to us..." the question hung in the air unasked.

Kovac puffed out his cheeks, and rubbed his right forearm. "Remember in the 88th there became this belief that I'd pull it out of the fire, everytime it looked impossible odds you'd hear the men, "trust in kovac" I have that faith in Michaela Jones. Our only job right now is to keep open this beach head so she can land the troops. Now I've shared my life's wisdom with you, who has any other nuggets to share?"

Sergeant Major Panther had her own meeting with her sergeants, the needs of various troops and sections were discussed and the talk turned to how long they could hold out, "Captain says three at a push, but knowing the Major, if say closer to five."

"It'll take them a week to roll the Towoli and the EDC so by the end of the second week it'll be all over," said Sergeant Webb.

"No, you're forgetting Webb, we've got Kovac, 'keep calm and trust in Kovac' I've been saying that for over ten years now and I'll keep saying as long as he keeps earning my damn faith." Knickers glared at her fellow sergeants, "what was it he always said? It's us, it's us the 88th, well now it's us the Dark Horses but it's still us, we're still the real first in last out and we're still fighting fit and fucking ugly, Kovac will know what to do and when he asks us to do the impossible we'll deliver."

Panther grinned, "Exactly, so get out there and tell that to the men, wipe their little faces, help them blow their noses and smack the heads that need smacking, we are the Dark Horses and we will do what is needed."

"Except the Major is sitting there saying the same about the General," Webb said, "you all know I love the man, he's personally saved my life four times that I can count, if anyone can save us he can...but he isn't trying to. He's not even mentioned trying to save the Towoli and the EDC, he's said we use them as cannon fodder. Our hope is that we get rescued by the woman we walked away from to follow Kovac."

The sergeant-major stared at her sergeants, she seemed at a loss for what to say.

"I'll keep my faith thank you Webb. You're not wrong, yet, but I'll put my trust in Kovac."

Corporal Grey was growing weary of banging heads, the men were despondent and grumbling. The leader they trusted beyond all others was finally cornered and they could all see it. He watched as Captain Dorman walked away from the Major looking down-trodden, after a few steps the officer managed to organise himself and he straightened his shoulders and put his head up...keeping up appearances.

"I hear you're out of ideas and we're all fucked," said a coarse voice behind Kovac.

"Hello RQ," said Kovac without turning round, "and do you believe it?"

"Of course not, you need extra arms for all the tricks up your sleeves," scoffed the Quartemaster, "but they do, the rank, which I'm guessing is the point."

"They're good people, good people don't become monsters without falling down first, I need them to be monsters, they have to lose hope so when I throw them a cobra for a life line they grab it."

"What's the plan troop?"

"The secret to Xhost success is that the Xhost have their own supply of fuel, took us a while to realise what it was, now they use a variety of tricks but the basic component is Phosphene gas, toxic and smells like rotten fish half the time. So the finest galactic scientists looked at how they could inhibit their engines, how they could stop the Xhost fuelling their war machine, they failed. Then a human looked at it, her solution was deemed too heinous, the very suggestion caused humanity some problems, as we were suddenly seen as viscious and evil."

"What was her solution?"

"Chemistry, it's beyond me but...have you ever heard of White Phosphorus?"

The Qm blanched, "really!? That's your solution?"

"Turn their fuel into chemical weapons, I just need men desperate enough to agree to it."

"Kovac..."

Kovac turned to look at the Qm, "first time you've ever called me that, look, we can sit here and let the Xhost slaughter the Towoli and the EDC or we can act, to save innocent lives, maybe we need to be less innocent."

The Qm was quiet a moment and then sighed, "you think we have to?"

"I do."

"Alright then," she touched his arm and left him.

Kovac stared into the gathering gloom, "Clausewitz never finished and Ludendorff was a bastard who lost," he seemed to mutter to himself.

Later Kovac would say it was almost sad how quickly his men agreed to his plan, but they did. So within 6 hours his troops were prepared and moving out.

Before dawn the Dark Horses had returned to their fortifications, none of the normal a activities were on display, showing pride in a job we'll done. Instead the attitude was grim, an unpleasant job but one needing done.

Outside in the skies and on the ground, the Xhost burned, White Phosphorus burns on contact with air and it can burn even human flesh to the bone. Steel melts at half the temperature of burning white phosphorus.

I've seen artists renderings of the human construct of hell, the day the Xhost burned was brighter, hotter and there was more smoke. The issue of demons I'll leave to other scholars.

Ten days later Major General Michaela Jones landed with the 3rd army of the Galactic Defence Force to discover a smoking planet and the Towoli and EDC talking about burning skies and enemies vaporized in a wall of heat.

The Dark Horses, grim of face and closed in demeanour said nothing, they simply boarded and left with the advance ships into Xhost territory.

There is a phrase amongst those who study human kind, it's taken from their own old language, a term itself bastardised from an even older tale, "humans are space-orcs"

To humans it's funny, "the human can withstand the loss of a limb and is capable of feats of strength near impossible to other races, they fix metal into their mouths and inject their skins for aesthetic purposes...ha ha, fuck yeah we're space-orcs"

But to those of us who study, it means something different, orcs are the monsters of human fiction, rewritten and redefined they are brutal, barbarous and backwards. Their savagery and their lack of humanity is common in all their iterations. Orcs are the monsters humans see in themselves.

We space going species forget that humans may be like us in their hunt for answers but they got to this technology not through global cooperation but through war-driven advances and international tensions and competition.

They have only recently become the advanced global society we know, just under the surface lies the monster. Humans are Space Orcs.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

So I know the Chemistry is a bit hinky here according to a chemist friend of mine what I've said is possible but not easily but...hey It's sci-fi.

Anyway this one ends in a dark place but it's where it went and I can't really pretend I know what I'm doing.

As always feedback is appreciated.

#humans are space australians #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #space orcs #space australia #space faerie #earth is a deathworld #earth is weird #dark horses #this is why i call kovac daddy #kovac

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