𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃

 &         the   wolf     howled   at   the   moon   ,      wrapped   her   name   around   his   tongue        ;         until  we  meet  again   !          (         in  dreams.         in  death.         in  memory.      )       

⸻   ✧    HITCRITICAL      a   chance   that   a   successful   attack   will   deal   more   damage   than   a   normal   blow.     INDIE.    SELECTIVE.    MUTUALS    ONLY.     multimuse   blog   for   characters   set   within   the   wrestling   universe.   As   pinned   by   Mani.  kayfabe   based   and   compliant.

AND SO THEY CALLED HER MINUIALWEN MORNGLORY, FOR SHE WAS THE BRINGER OF HOPE AND LIGHT TO MANY AFTER TRAGEDY. / headcanon-based portrayal of thranduil's wife, the queen of the woodland realm.

the   corners   of   her   lips   curl   softly,   a   smile   rather   sinister.   ❝   i've   been   admiring   your   work,   ❞   she   confessed,   her   hand   now   sliding   smoothly   up   the   arm   &   neck,   her   once   steady   grip   softens   into   the   gentlest   of   touches   upon   the   redhead's   cheek   ;   the   sort   of   touch   that   beckoned   one   to   lean   in,   to   surrender   to   its   warmth   &   comfort.   the   care   everyone   strives   for.   ❝   you've   done   such   a   remarkable   job   looking   after   others...   but   has   anyone   ever   truly   cared   for   you?   ❞   she   found   herself   asking,   her   voice   softened,   soothing,   like   the   gentlest   of   lullabies.   with   her   body-crafted   tools,   she   could   as   easily   envelop   someone   in   a   velvet   embrace   as   pick   up   a   weapon   &   watch   silver   clash   with   crimson ;  painting   the   canvas   with   one's   vital   essence.   ❝   did   he   see   your   face?   ❞   the   question   followed   swiftly,   her   blue   eyes   flickering   towards   the   motionless   form   before   settling   back   on   the   tumult   of   emotions   in   the   other’s   gaze.   distrust,   surely,   one   of   many   currents   swirling   beneath   the   surface...   the   answer,   though,   would   unravel   the   path   ahead,   reshaping   it   into   something   entirely   new,   or   perhaps   something   even   more   unexpected.

Stranger speaks and her omens flutter ; dance before his eyes in pulsating colours that mean nothing yet everything at the same time. His eyes follow them, rather than how her mouth moves as it shapes itself around the letters of her spoken words. There is time, there is time. ❝ No one knows it is me. ❞ Lies ! Killer tilts his head, seeks out anything inside her eyes when he forces his own to focus. ❝ No one pays attention. The world protects the sinners because the world too is perverted, unclean and cursed. No one is supposed to know that it is me. ❞ There is no confession, no names tied to various bodies that should have been long since buried. She cannot know, but the omens speak of truth and he has always followed them without question. A final glance is given to the body at their feet. Disgusting. Unclean. ❝ He has. I wasn't supposed to be interrupted. I was supposed to finish it. ❞

❛     ❈   -----     you’re so beautiful , ma moitié , your love all the same . you should go , dennis . they’ll come too quick & sweep you up too , ❜ tell his mother he was brave , was this how fathers loved ? with crashes in walls , is this just as glorious ? he hopes so , he hopes so , he hopes .

A kiss on love's forehead is the only final offering he can muster ( it is not a knife. It should never have been a knife. ) A small sign of affection. Trembling hands reach for the phone, whisper softly of a stabbing and a dying man. They might find two. He does not need to tell Rio. No need to frighten him. ❝ I stay with you, like you stayed with me before. ❞