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#welcome #mobile navigation #tw: suicide #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: self-loathing

jessicatredes

RAHUL KOHLI as SUNIL RANJA

death and other details; episode 1 & 2

#Q:#lawrence talbot #gifs #face #rahul kohli

vvolfsbaneblooms

@lady-llewellyn

Larry had been awake for some years. He'd come to think of it that way over the decades. Not alive and dead, since he never seemed to truly die, but awake and asleep. For the moment, he'd stopped seeking true death or a cure for his condition. The two warring desires had fueled him for more than a century, and he found himself tired. It took a lot of energy to live or to die, and it took even more to hate himself for all that time. He could never be happy being a monster, but he'd settled with it as a fact of his long, cursed life. As long as he could lock himself away from the rest of the world on the full moons so no one else suffered for it, he could live with it. He didn't have any other choice.

He'd timed his travels back to Wales so that there was a little under a month before the next full moon, the longest stretch of time he could give himself to find a cell secure enough to hold him. He hadn't been back to his homeland since he'd learned of his father's death, shortly after his own first sleep. He'd left Talbot Castle in the hands of caretakers to keep it from falling into complete disrepair, but it had certainly seen better days. He'd dismissed them for the duration of his stay so that he was the only person roaming the old, chilly hallways. It was fit for a ghost and not much else, but since Larry was a ghost in his own life, unable to truly join the world of the living, it seemed fitting. He hadn't decided yet whether he would stay.

He'd been there several nights, refamiliarizing himself with the small town nearby, which was nothing like the last time he'd seen it. It was late for a walk around the grounds, and he hadn't realized it was Halloween night until the sounds of a party reached him. He'd been warned people liked to sneak onto the property looking for the Wolf Man of legend. The official record was that Lawrence Talbot's death had been a tragic accident, of course, but the rumors grew into their own story in the intervening years. He followed the sounds of music and laughter down the trail. Walking sticks were long out of fashion, but he still carried the one with silver wolf's head, harmless against his human flesh. He wasn't planning to break up the revelry, even if he thought such a thing were possible. He just liked to observe from a distance.

draigfaequeen

Samhain and its traditional bonfire night were one of her favorite festivals to behold. It didn't matter if it was in Faery itself or its earthly counterpart in Wales. Something about the veil between worlds thinning and alcohol flowing made it so much easier to intermingle with the local mortals. The Fae Queen had given her people explicit instructions for their revel and always ensured the humans' safety despite their hosts' proclivities for being a bit more feral. At least they were tame once they crossed over. Mostly.

Still, Ellyn takes her time winding through her Folk and the humans. Her careful gaze, along with several of her guards, is more than enough to enforce her edicts and laws. Above all else, she wants to make sure that everyone has a good time celebrating the end of the harvest. After all, it's mostly symbolic and steeped in other tales on Earth now, but, any excuse for a party draws out her people. Not to mention, with the way costumes are nowadays, they don't have to keep such a tight rein on their humanoid glamours as the night progresses. Hell, she wore something rather dazzling in its own right, too.

She's more than aware of the Talbot family and its curse, but, has never disturbed the formal estate grounds or allowed her people to stray too far from the woods or standing stones that hummed with their own power. Still, she gets the sense that something or someone was coming from the direction of the crumbling manse and it made her terribly curious. Grabbing an extra cup of mead, she weaves her way through the revelers and rather easily pinpoints his location.

The bonfire wreaths her in light from behind and only adds to her supernatural appearance as she holds out that cup towards him. "If you arne't going to join in and dance, have a wee bit of mead instead. Perhaps it'll give you a wee bit of courage to leave the shadows for a moment, no?" She gives him her best winsome smile and takes a small sip from her cup to show him that it's perfectly safe. @vvolfsbaneblooms

vvolfsbaneblooms

Even from a distance, it was clear the holiday had changed much since he'd last participated in it. Everything had changed. The cars faster, the parties louder, the hemlines shorter. He didn't consider any of it bad in and of itself. It was simply the way things were. Larry spent too much energy hating himself to have a lot leftover for other things, particularly things he had no control over. Acceptance was peaceful. In any case, the costumes were vivid and so realistic he'd almost believe he was looking at a faerie revelry come to life.

She appeared out of the trees like magic. His senses weren't as strong as a human as they were as a wolf, but they were stronger than average, and still, he hadn't sensed her approach. It should have put his guard up but, really, what more could happen to him? The only thing he really had to fear was himself, either in harming others or passing this curse on to someone else, and he was perfectly harmless tonight. Her costume was elaborate and nearly as lovely as she, something ethereal about both that he couldn't quite chalk up to the night itself.

"I feel as though I'm addressing a queen." He gave a short bow, eyes twinkling with a smile, ever a trace of that old-world charm about him. He'd read the legends about not accepting food or drink from the fair folk, but it didn't even cross his mind that she was really one of them. He supposed that must be how every story started. He'd never believed he'd cross paths with an actual werewolf either. "Is this a treat to ward off tricks from an unhappy spirit?" He kept his smile, accepting the cup and taking a small drink, the sweetness and spices rich on his tongue. "Thank you. This is quite a gathering."

#chat: ellyn #draigfaequeen #verse: canon (+/-)

esotericsoldier

@grimmusings chose to pet the wolf : if you ever want to talk, i'm here to listen. (Lawrence @vvolfsbaneblooms)

‘We are talking.’

Confused, he looked up, his brows furrowing slightly. Was this not how communication was supposed to work? Had he missed some unspoken rule? Was Lawrence hinting at a specific subject they were supposed to discuss? It wasn't uncommon for Valentin to overlook the broader implications, to be oblivious to the apparent. It often felt as though the world possessed a secret guidebook he couldn't access. Others made it seem effortless, as if life were a gentle breeze. ( He, on the other hand, couldn't function without intense concentration. Every action required his complete focus and meticulous attention. Nothing was done without thorough deliberation, without analysing every possible variable. ) Contrary to popular belief, he never acted impulsively, his thoughts simply raced faster than most could comprehend. By the time an average person began contemplating a solution, his mind had already conjured up a thousand possibilities, each vying for prominence. It was utterly exhausting.

‘I mean… What would you like to talk about?’

vvolfsbaneblooms

The circumstances were unusual, even for Larry. He visited the lab regularly in the likely vain hope that Dr. Frankenstein would find a way to cure his condition, and he knew that Dorothy stayed there because she had nowhere else to go. She'd voluntarily left her own world and been thrown out of another, and she couldn't very well go back to either. He wasn't sure it was the same for Valentin. At times, he seemed like a prisoner here, even though the door of the cell was wide open. He didn't think Victor would keep an unwilling captive, but he also knew Victor didn't view morality quite like other people.

"We are." He paused, considering his words. Once upon a time, Lawrence Talbot had been charming, more sure of himself, in a somewhat self-deprecating sort of way. It had been many decades since that time, and he hadn't been awake for all of them. He was a man out of time, with another century's thoughts and mannerisms. He was more careful of his words now, less quick to speak when he wasn't certain what to say. "You seem like you're struggling," he said finally. Larry knew a little bit about struggle. "I only meant that if you'd like to talk about that sometime, I'm here to listen. Victor isn't the most sympathetic ear, and he doesn't need to know everything."

#chat: val #esotericsoldier #verse: mcu

🐺 @luminescenc1e liked for a starter

It wasn't the first time Larry had woken up in a tomb, wolfsbane on the floor and not a familiar face in sight. He'd like to have a talk with whoever had moved his corpse and resurrected him, but they weren't coming forward to take credit. It had been less than a week since he woke, and he was still acclimating to the jarring changes in time and place, uncertain exactly how much time had passed since he hadn't known the year he'd last died. It all seemed to run together, like something out of a nightmare.

Night was falling when he went walking through the town. There were a few people still out, but in general he preferred to avoid a crowd. The wolf's head cane had been buried with him, which made him suspect another motive other than grave robbing, the silver harmless against his human flesh. His senses were little better than a human's in this form, but he could swear he knew the scent of another wolf. He didn't mean to stare at the other man, but he'd never met another of his kind, with the exception of the one who turned him, and there hadn't been a lot of dialogue in that encounter.

"Sorry… Could you tell me what city this is?"