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The cries of injured men echoed across the grass and through the trees. War was chaos and Y/n did not want any part in it. Legolas called the war something before he’d let, the battle of five armies. She shook her head to dispel the thought. She did not want to imagine the blood being spilt tonight. Y/n fixed her eyes on the floor of the royal tent she was sitting in and desperately hummed a song she could not remember. But the screams of battle drew her thoughts again and again to the reality of the night. Y/n’s feet swung off the ground. The chair she sat in was meant for an elf. Everything in this tent was meant for an elf,

“I’m really glad we’re finally doing this,” Sam said as Y/n jogged beside him. He’d been asking her to be his running partner for over a month. “Don’t get too excited, it’s a one time thing,” Y/n huffed. Their sneakers pounded the pavement simultaneously. “I only agreed so you would stop bugging me.” “Who knows, you could get hooked.” “I will not, I hate jogging.” “No you don’t, you just hate waking up this early.” Y/n laughed. The sun cast purple rays into the sky as it crawled out from the darkness of night. The national mal

Dean looked at himself in his fifth glass of whisky, ignoring the rowdy bar around him. The air was smoky and classic rock blasted from old speakers in the back. Dean didn’t look away from the eyes staring back from the glass. They were red and hollow. They didn’t look like his. Sam had offered to come with him that night but Dean had shaken his head no. Dean’s self-designed punishment was suffering without the comfort of brotherly company. Sam was worried about his older brother; he didn’t do much talking these days. He didn’t do much of anything. Dean’s life had become a mind-numbing string of bars, sho

Y/n stared blankly into space as another wave of melancholy washed over her. Depression soaked into her bones and her head was filled with the dull buzz of negativity. Her breath was shallow and her expression, listless. The library was deserted, letting Y/n fester in her sadness. She sat on her favorite couch with Charles next to her; his wheelchair parked by the armrest. They did not speak to each other, but instead let the silence hang over them like storm clouds. Y/n let her head sink into her hands. Her cup of tea, now cold, sat on a nearby table. She couldn’t muster the energy to pick up her limp wrist and grab it. The girl took

The cries of injured men echoed across the grass and through the trees. War was chaos and Y/n did not want any part in it. Legolas called the war something before he’d let, the battle of five armies. She shook her head to dispel the thought. She did not want to imagine the blood being spilt tonight. Y/n fixed her eyes on the floor of the royal tent she was sitting in and desperately hummed a song she could not remember. But the screams of battle drew her thoughts again and again to the reality of the night. Y/n’s feet swung off the ground. The chair she sat in was meant for an elf. Everything in this tent was meant for an elf,