#warriorsbow

[ this is why i’m afraid to watch the show. this shit. ]

it's fucking ridiculous. making them actually canon makes no sense, i mean it's like a textbook abusive relationship- only with lots more blood and murder.

martyrscomplex replied to your post:martyrscomplex replied to...

drop half the plots from old episodes/seasons that were left unfinished and reusing old plot lines but just giving them to a different character/actor

you just pointed out 1/3 of the reasons why i no longer watch

    Elena sat beside the Christmas tree, legs curled underneath her. She pulled out a medium sized box, wrapped with blue and snowflake shiny wrapping paper. On the label it read To: Bonnie From: Elena. The girl presented it to her friend.

                     "Merry Christmas.                            And belated Yule."

      Inside was a dreamcatcher. The feathers were white, a representation of when her friend came to her and told her that she was a witch, as was the suede wrapping and thread work. In the center of the catcher was an owl, representing the wisdom and protection that Bonnie presented to her.

           -Maybe Elena thought a little too deep about her presents to people.

    Smiling in response to the gift, Bonnie felt her eyes glaze over with un-shed tears. She remembered the day she ripped up Elena's pillow and showed her, the first ever person outside of her grams. What she was. It felt like it was another life.

                      ❝Thank You, Elena.

                                                      ---Here's yours.❞

Shuffling quietly through the lush forest on the outskirts of the graveyard, Dean held his shotgun cocked ready to fire at any given moment, hunter’s senses on high alert for any possible warning he might obtain before being slammed into the base of another tree. That’s when he heard a twig snap to his left, immediately twisting his gun ready to—

                 ”What the hell?! Jesus christ! I almost shot you!” 

I'm so done.

Not sure if it's permanent or not yet

    Elena had left a note on Dean's pillow that morning:

                                       Meet me at 8pm                                     in front of the Impala

  She was leaning against the trunk of the black Impala. A small green box was being held between her hands. Inside the box was a simple black string with an aged gold star charm at the center.

   "Okay, so maybe not exactly in the front of it," the brunette laughed lightly. Her intention was still plain as day, she wanted to present Dean with his present in private.

   She walked around the vehicle with graceful steps, the location of the tiny box never varying from the middle of her person until she paused right before Dean. "I know it's not much. It's definitely not a new gun or a knife." But it meant the world to her and Dean would understand, the necklace that she wore at all times would held plenty of importance to him. Size didn't matter much, it was the meaning that did.

          And this item, however new it was, held something important.

        It represented the moment she fell in love with him.

It was a star. A weather-worn, leather stringed star; it's golden metallic surface shining brightly under the clear morning sun.

                       She'd gotten him a present.

            No one bought him presents. No one -- except Sammy.

                                This year was all about change.

     A nervous cough was used to cover a choked exhale of breath, Dean's eyes shifting between the present and warm, cadbury eyes. She said it wasn't much -- spoke about knives and guns and pushed the grand gesture to the side, but the hunter knew better. He knew what it meant.

                                                    He understood.

                        "I love it."

             And now his own present seemed dull in comparison. It didn't matter -- shouldn't matter. Dean Winchester had tried his best to get the perfect gift for Elena Gilbert. But a man on the road without a cent to his name; he was certainly limited.

                                                           Creatively limited, too.

Hands enclosed around the golden emblem as the string found its way loosely around his neck. A perfect reminder.

All he could do was smile.                                            Beam, even.                  And tug his own present from his back jeans pocket.

     "I got you something too. I thought- well, you should hang on to them."

              A brand new set of keys outstretched in her direction; keys to his very soul.