freddo

Connections were LOST. There was no one who knew Ava before she’d become Azazel’s soldier. Her fiance— dead. Family — were they dead? Ava didn’t know this one but god knows she didn’t want them to see the monster she had become. There was Oliver, who she met in Hell, but even before that she had become a soldier. Then there was Sam fucking Winchester. Who led her into the devil’s clutches and then judged her for what she needed to do to survive. She wasn’t like him. She had been a normal girl, a secretary, wanting to settle down and live her life. It was funny in it’s own ironic and shitty way. Sam had been the last one to see her before she’d became Azazel’s soldier. He was also the last person she saw before she died ( fucking Jake ). He was a reminder of all Ava had lost, all she had stolen from others, everything she despised when she looked in the mirror. Once upon a time, someone who made her feel this way was someone she would run from. But now– well, the worst thing she could dream had already happened to her. She wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. “Let me guess,” She began. “You heard Hell was throwing a reunion, you weren’t invited but decided to crash anyway, right?”  Crashing, destroying, was his legacy after all. 

He hadn’t expected to ever see her again. Sure, weirder things had certainly happened over the years so he wasn’t exactly shocked but hers being the first face to recognize in this town? Well, that was a bit of a surprise. The first thought that entered his mind was that if she was here, where the hell was everyone else? Clearly people were coming back from the dead left and right so where the hell was Dean? Dad? Jess? Mom? All faces that he wanted to see a hell of a lot more than Ava. Ava, who had betrayed him. Ava, who had killed Andy. Resentment bubbled up in his chest and he took a step closer. The gun in his back pocket sat there heavy and teasing. He wouldn’t use it, not on her. He couldn’t watch her die again, no matter what she had done. It wasn’t in Sam’s nature to relish in someone else’s pain. “Ava,” he answered. “Save the attitude, alright? I’m not here for you.” And as long as she didn’t kill anyone, that particular detail wouldn’t change. 

@ofwinchxsters​

IT HADN’T BEEN ON PURPOSE—  it was raining outside, and so jack made their way into the nearest place that was lit up. a cute little dinner that reminded them of home in it’s strange way. the bunker from so long ago. of course they didn’t look anything alike but it was more so the vibe, the remembrance of the dinners they used to go to with sam, dean and cas. so, jack came in only to FREEZE when they saw a familiar face. it was an accident. they should probably retreat, for sam’s sake, and yet jack didn’t move a muscle. sam was gonna catch onto their staring any moment now– and there it was, yet jack still didn’t move. instead they spoke. “sam.” son of a bitch jack shouldn’t have done that. 

Sam had gotten used to him not knowing the people that knew him a long time ago. It was just the way that things seemed to go when you were John Winchester’s kid. People revered or judged or longed for or loathed you without ever taking a second to think that you were your own person. Not some carbon copy of John or Mary but Sam. Just Sam. There was something about this kid that didn’t feel right; he wondered for a moment if that was how other hunters felt when they met him. He looked up slowly, meeting eyes with them and shooting a sad little smile. “You know me?” 

@ofwinchxsters​

It started with the scent of blood in the air. Which wasn’t uncommon when Elena was across college surrounded by medical students and professors midst practice, but when she was on this side it was far less likely. Sure someone could have gotten a paper cut, forgotten a tampon, had a nose bleed but there was something more to it. Something wrong in the air beside it. It almost reminded Elena of how magic felt as a vampire, but not quite. It was something different then she’d ever known before and it was her instinct to investigate it.

Of course, she’d also been ignoring all her instincts the passed few months due to all that occurred last year. Not getting involved was safe, keeping her nose clean, only focusing on classes. Being a robot, not a person with a heart and soul she constantly found lost in other people. The only problem was this: Jeremy almost died. For all she knew Jeremy was the blood she smelled, and even if it wasn’t— what if someone was dying and she made the choice to do NOTHING. Being dead was a far cry from not being able to live with yourself.

So, putting her school books aside, hoping she would recall where she left them (and if not she could always compel herself more but would that be a betrayal of the normal-type life she was pushing for so hard? Was pushing for this normal life a betrayal to the supernatural world— the people who belonged in her life? Could it be a betrayal to herself? Not only a vampire but born a doppelganger, connected to this world to her very core) Elena did what vampires did best. She sped. 

Arriving at the scene, she was hesitant to call it a crime considering it appeared more like a BATTLE GROUND. There was a young man midst war with a — what was that thing? It was like no monster Elena had ever seen. Not even the Augustine Virus had been this drastic, no werewolf, witch or hybrid had an appearance so crude. It was something else entirely. The young man had blood on him and appeared wounded. She needed to save him. Funny enough, Elena still had a pencil in her hair. She stabbed it into the monster’s abdomen and though there was pain it wasn’t the atypical reaction. It wasn’t enough. Now it was looking at her and she didn’t know what came next.

There was no denying that this town had a supernatural pull. Sam had been at this long enough that he could feel when there was something somewhat off about the person that he was talking to or the building that he was walking into. Some were easier to suss out than others, but he prided himself on not allowing himself to be nearly as naive as he once was. When Dean had first come to Stanford and dragged him out his home in the middle of the night, he was sure that he was going to be able to return to his life with only minor interruption.

Azazel had been sure to make certain that it hadn’t panned out that way. The nights that his dreams weren’t haunted by that look in Dean’s eyes as the hellhounds descended, he was instead tormented by a flash of fire and Jess’ face as the flames consumed her. Just thinking of that night, of the cruelty in making sure the love of his life perished the exact same way that the mother he’d never known had...it made his stomach turn. Bile burned the back of his throat as he followed his prey deeper into the woods and he forced himself to push the images away. 

He was stupid to be doing this on his own. Chasing after wendigos wasn’t a task for the faint of heart. They were faster than him, stronger than him and he simply didn’t care. Sam had gotten cavalier and reckless ever since he lost Dean and that wasn’t going to stop now. His eyes locked with the monsters and he gripped at the torch in his hand harder. Sam’s heart was beating faster and faster, filled with fear and adrenaline. There was only one way that he knew to kill this thing and he had to get close enough to be able to do it. 

The trouble with Wendigo, though, is that they were perfect hunters. The could see better than him, see better, move faster. They were superior in every way and that harsh reality was only made clearer the second that it’s claws slashed across his chest. Sam let out a pained yelp, closing his eyes for a second. Here it was, and he was ready. And yet, that final blow didn’t come. His eyes flew open to see a woman trying to help him. A pencil; she had used a pencil against this damn near unkillable thing. He would almost think it was cute if they weren’t both about to die. Reaction kicked in and the torch in his hand raised. “MOVE!” Sam ordered, giving her only moments to retreat before the monster before them became engulfed in flames. 

@sanguishqsstarters​

@sanguishqsstarters​

She had her plans set for if they had to go back to the future. And what were they, you may ask? Go and hide until everything was over with. She knew she would leave her siblings and friends she made but there was just so much more freedom with being in the past. She didn’t want to think about the future and the destruction that had happened. “Ugh,” she groaned, “someone take my mind off of things I’m thinking, please”

He hadn’t wreaked nearly enough havoc since returning. Silas had been reunited with the two people that meant most to him in this world and because of that, he felt like he was on top of the damn world. Celebrating with just a bit of chaos seemed in order and someone in emotional peril? Well, that was almost too easy. “Mm, the things that you’re thinking are there for a reason. I mean, the only reason that people obsess over anything is because there’s an outcome they want and one that they don’t. Obsession makes you think you can control what happens but you can’t. We’re all just mice, running in that endless wheel of life. Give in to the thoughts. Let them consume you.” 

In bewilderment to the magnificence of his power, often, Melania forgot just how truly powerful he was. He could shatter glass with the softest touch if he wanted, there were so many in the world who feared him but Melania would never be one of them. She wasn’t able to, not when he had sworn her protection, shown her nothing but love and acceptance. That moment she had been so utterly terrified, bearing her heart to him, the urging that their society looked down upon in horror and disgust— and Silas had embraced her. It was a moment carved into Melania’s memory, that not even hell could demonize. For however powerful Silas was, her mind drew to Qetsiyah. She wondered if Silas had been around that day, that moment, would he have been able to stop her? Melania didn’t know if Qetsiyah had ripped out her heart before finding Silas or after, she hadn’t had a chance, but head on– she feared Qetsiayh would have beat him. In fact, Melania was almost certain of it. So what would happen if she came back now? She held onto him tightly, perhaps too tightly Melania worried, as she trembled and held tighter with the fearful thoughts of Qetsiyah running amuck in her mind. Even now, after thousands of years in hell and brought forth to a new land, a new world, all Melania could think about was her. “I don’t….” She knew Silas wouldn’t like hearing this. Yet it needed to be spoken, because it was the truth, and the truth had never failed her before. At least not when it was to Silas. “I don’t believe I could do it.” It was a confession true and yet something that terrified her, it was her sole purpose in this new world and yet— “I can’t take another’s life Silas.” Even if they were already dead, even if it was her who stood before Melania. “Perhaps— may I learn defense? I could accustom to a blade?” It wasn’t instant death but it would protect her. 

The way that she clung to him would have broken his heart if he wasn’t quite so jaded and twisted. Despite the fact that he resented Cade a bit less than some of his fellow darklighters, that didn’t mean that Hell had been a picnic for Silas. He was haunted by the things that he had experienced just like anyone else. There were resentments there as well, to be sure. He had spent centuries stuck in the tomb that Qetsiyah had fashioned for him, as far from Amara as she could possibly get him and then as soon as he was returned to his full power as a Traveler, death finally came knocking in the form of his shadow self. In fairness, Silas was fairly certain that even if Stefan hadn’t dealt that final blow, he would have followed Amara soon after into the cold grips of death one way or another. They were fated to be together, even in death, and no power could keep them apart forever. He had deserved to go to Hell once the other side collapsed. Silas could admit that, he even embraced it in an odd sense. The woman in front of him, however, had no business there. Even now, with the ability to take life literally at her fingertips, she refused to deal a killing blow in order to protect herself. That quality both endeared him to her and frustrated him to no end. He sighs at her refusal to use the death touch, closing his eyes to keep from saying something rash. Melania was gentle, soft, and he wouldn’t be the person to take that quality from her. “Mel, I understand your hesitation but this is what we were put here to do. If we don’t listen, Cade is going to pull you back. You don’t want that, I know you don’t.” The follow up suggestion makes a tiny smile tug at his lips and he nods. “Sure. As long as you promise to actually use it.” 

─────     →

          Whilst Amara wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from the man before her, upon her admission, she knew she wasn’t expecting this. The brunette stood before Silas, her name uttered softly from her lips, before he needn’t hesitate to take her hand in his, instincts immediately allowing him to do so. There was no doubt about it. She was fully prepared to have to stand before him, proving it was her, with some minute detail that only she would know about him. And yet, he did not ask for anything from her. Nothing but just the sensation of her skin against his, in a small notion as holding hands. Fingers eventually intertwining with his, prompted by his confirmation that he was fully aware with whom she was. ‘Imposter’ was not a title she’d be threatened with this evening, and that in itself was a win. “I’ve not lied to you before, I’m not about to start now.” It was her way of saying, of course it was her. Fingers gently brushing against his, thumb caressing the outside of his hand, comforting him almost. “I don’t know why, but, I pictured this very differently…” Their reunion, that is. “Evidence has suggested this is never an easy feat for us.” And that wasn’t about to change now. That much was going to become clear. Whilst she hadn’t admitted it, she was sure he was running countless scenarios in his head, curious as to what had brought her here. Whitelighter had to be one of them, given his own status. Was she supposed to let go of his hand by now? ‘Cause there was something in her stopping her from doing just that. It was thousands of years of absence, the lack of physical connection, perhaps?

For all of Silas’ faults, the one thing that he could say is that he had always been faithful to Amara. Of course, that loyalty had come at the cost of his faithfulness to someone else, the ex that had cursed them both to centuries of torture, stuck in stasis like butterflies trapped in amber, destined to be apart forever. Yet, not even Tessa could have stopped him from finding her now that he was back. He knew that their connection was against every rule on either side of the war that was preparing to wage between the factions, but Silas simply didn’t care. He was evil personified and Amara was fittingly the light to his dark. Back before Tessa’s revenge plot, that had been true as well. Silas wasn’t exactly the person that lit up the room; there was a darkness inside of them and Tessa had been the person to bring out that darkness and amplify it until it was almost his defining characteristic. Meeting Amara, falling for her, loving her...that had always been his only chance at redemption. Everything that was good about him was her. “You’d never lie to me,” he confirmed, gentle smile he saved just for her on his lips. His hands were nearly shaking with anticipation at being this close to her again. Their last reunion had been so short-lived and bittersweet. He was terrified that might be how this ended as well. “I don’t care what’s easy, Amara. I never have, not when it comes to you. I don’t care about the rules.” His free hand cupped her cheek before finding the nape of her neck, pulling her close. A chaste kiss pressed from hjs lips to hers and that same gentle smile remained on his face when he pulled away. “Do you still want me? Or has that all changed for you now?” Because of what he was. That was the real question, wasn’t it? Had she stopped loving him because of the side that he now worked for. 

─────     →

          Whatever it was they were discussing, prior to her line of questioning, seemed irrelevant on some level to her now. Sure, she would be happy to continue the pleasantries, but right now? Well, she was just curious as to how this was all going to go down. Would he realise with whom he was talking, and take off for the hills? Would there be a level of appreciation for her return, despite the fact that they seemed on entirely opposite sides of the inevitable war that would break out, for whitelighters and darklighters? Unfortunately, and for anyone and everything in between. The Elder’s were quick to warn her of those returning as Cade’s wingmen, of sorts, and what this would ultimately mean. So, on some level, she was also curious as to whether the man she once knew, was still inside. Or, had he been entirely overtaken like a freakin’ parasite inside of him? “Kind of a loaded question, really.” Did they? Anymore, that is? “But, sure. You could say that.” A long time ago, perhaps, but they had known each other better than most. “You knew a version of me, and I you, but I’m not too sure where that sits these days.” The brunette shrugging slightly, before ultimately just ripping the band-aid off. “I know I don’t look like it, but it’s me, it’s Amara.” A slight twinge in the corner of her lips, giving her an unsure and lopsided smile as the looked onto the man before her. “Different packaging.” That was one way of putting it.

His connection to Cade was a strong one. Even though Silas had only been in Hell for six months, he hadn’t been shy about rising quickly through the ranks of power. There was nothing moral that he struggled with, no moral horizon that would push him too far. The only thing that could possibly be asked of him that he would balk at was hurting two very specific people and one of them currently stood right in front of him. Silas didn’t doubt that it was her, not for a single second. There was just a feeling about her that felt familiar and safe. This woman had the capacity to make him change his mind about the tasks that Cade had set out before him; the hold that she held on him even hundreds of years later was terrifying. She was powerful without intending to be and he was completely wrapped around her finger all over again. “Amara,” he whispered in wonder, one hand instinctively stretching out for hers. He knew that there was only one way that she could possibly be back from the dead and it wasn’t the same as his. Whitelighters had rules whereas darklighters were sent there to break them. The universe was once again determined to keep them apart but no force in the vast expanse of space could have stopped him from lacing his fingers in hers. “It is you.” 

He tried to let Silas’s jab roll off his shoulders. Tried to recall he needed to make peace for the sake of Klaus and Caroline, they had enough enemies as it was they hardly needed a new one who was Stefan’s personal vendetta. If he had to choose a personal vendetta that laid with Katherine, and even that he tried to put aside. For them. “Yeah I figured it was something like that, after all you don’t have much of a life so you had to settle for fucking over mine.” The pettiness slipped out, wanting nothing more then to have his vampire strength again and stab Silas like he had a year ago. “Don’t get me wrong, me killing you was fun.” Cause that was what happened in the end, for all Silas’s talk, his death was one of the very few that didn’t weigh on Stefan’s conscious. “But I figured I’d give you an out this time around.” He was probably feeling too cocky with that memory fresh on his mind, or maybe it was annoyance leaking into bravado. Regardless, he tried playing peace once. Trying more was a wasted effort. “You seriously want to end up dead again for kicks? Do you have that much of a death wish?” He challenged. “What is it about me that pisses you off so much? You can’t seriously tell me it’s just my face.” There had to be something else– not even Silas could be THAT petty. Right? 

It was nice to know that even though Stefan was determined to currently take the high road, all it took was a couple of quips from Silas to bring him down to his level. It was almost too easy. Silas was hoping that he’d at least put up a bit more of a fight before he gave up on his supposed honor. “And who’s fault is it that I haven’t been able to have much of a life recently?” Silas questioned with a sneer, taking a step closer to his doppelganger. That sneer quickly turned to a smirk when Stefan continued and Silas vigorously shook his head as the line of questioning continued. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Stefan. You’ve left yourself far too vulnerable. Human heartbeat aside, you care about people. I care about absolutely no one.” It was a lie, of course, but Stefan surely hadn’t met Melania or heard that Amara was back and those were the only two people in existence that could give Silas pause. ”In this game of cat and mouse, I am always going to win because I will go find your little mouse family, bait them out with the tastiest of gourmet cheeses and then pluck out their little mouse hearts.” He shakes his head at the challenge, holding up one finger in warning. “That’s for me to know and you to squirm uncomfortably about.”

❂ = wiping blood off their face + @ofimmortxls​

She was a darklighter, and often Melania forgot that it even had meaning. It intertwined with her having gone to hell, but abilities that came with it left her confused. She’d only ever been human, without any powers of her own but to watch in wonder of Silas and Qetsiyah and their artful mastery of magic. She wanted to learn, how to use whatever strength she could muster to be able to fight for herself. So that this didn’t have to happen again. A vampire, a strange new species with pointy teeth, pulling her to the side and biting into her neck— then Silas was there and he responded. Blasting them with magic, and the vampire became a SPLAT on the pavement. If he hadn’t arrived when he did, Melania would have been the splat. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, heart pounding in her chest as Silas approached her. She couldn’t hear what he spoke, shock too imprint in her. There was blood— the vampire’s blood on her face, her own blood running down her neck, and Silas was wiping it from her cheek– and speaking— god, she needed to breathe. “It’s dead.” She said finally, as if calling the vampire an it would make it any least human, like a beast who wanted to kill her and not a person making a CHOICE. 

There were two people on this planet that he would never allow harm to come to if he could help it, and Melania was one of them. Seeing some rogue mutant — a bastardized version of him — try to sink their fangs into the neck of the woman that he considered his little sister was enough to make him go completely berserk. There had been no consideration for who might be watching or what the consequences would be for his actions, he just knew that he had to help her. “You’re okay, you’re fine,” he whispered, his thumb softly wiping the blood from her cheek. His arms wrapped tightly around her, one hand tangled into her dark hair, gently stroking the brunette locks. She was panicked, and he could only hope that his arms around her would produce a calming effect rather than instill more fear. “It was already dead,” he reminds her softly. Vampires weren’t alive, not really. They were simply reanimated in a way similar to the magic that had Silas and Melania standing near each other. He pulls away, looking down at her with a gentle affection in his eyes. “Listen to me. We are going to have to teach you how to defend yourself, alright? I can’t have you unable to fight back. Cade gave us a death touch, remember? You just have to be sure to use it.”