lunarcaskets

[lunarcaskets]

heyo, i’m still alive!! been a busy week/weekend for me 🐇 but i’ll do replies sometime this week! just expect them to be in the queue as always <3

[lunarcaskets]

         Dr. Lecter stared at Miss Yvonne Joyce with careful consideration; taking in her words with a silent thoughtfulness that only furthered the tension; wanting to make her squirm a little bit more. Although, there was quiet amusement in watching her nervousness flutter about like an anxious bird. Hannibal wished he could read her thoughts, and know exactly what was going on behind those brown eyes.  He had a slight distaste for journalists, as many of them had a tendency of embellishing things in order to, unnecessarily, add a little more splash of color where there needn’t be. However, Yvonne seemed honest enough in her motives. At least, from what Hannibal could gather within the inflection of her voice, and the restlessness of her fingers. Maybe he could provide, allow her, some confidence by sharing a bit of desired information. Or, perhaps, he simply enjoyed having varying degrees of rumors and articles surrounding him. Kept things interesting, did it not...?            “ Mmm... ” A contemplative sound and a smile appeared as he spoke, “ And what exactly is it that your journal would be interested in hearing, Miss Joyce?  ”                    @ghoststained​  cont from here ! !

[lunarcaskets]

horrorfyed​:

The smile on her lips are coy, enjoying thoroughly the confusion and reaction of her once dearest younger sister before her. The distance between them had become comfortable, Ginger needed it much after she’d felt so betrayed all those years ago. They were both adults now, did she really need to hold onto petty grudges?

Yes.  ❝  You didn’t think your pansy ass really took me out, did’ya Bee? After I tore apart your little boyfriend, you probably sure thought you had to power and anger to do it. I’m not only alive, I’m fucking thriving.  ❞  That was a bit generous on her part, but there was no way for her sister to confirm or deny such claims.  ❝  I did miss you, though.  Are you done trying to bury me yourself now?  ❞  

    “I am,” Brigitte replied, a tentative smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Brigitte was happy to see her sister again. Wasn’t she? So why was there a nervous churning in her guts? She had tried to kill her after all. So there was understanding if Ginger was pissed off at her about it.  The eldest sister had every right in wanting to rip Brigitte’s head clean off of her shoulders. “ I missed you too... so, so much.  ” Her throat felt tight, wondering if Ginger would snap at her for saying that, but it was true. Even though she had witnessed her sister go absolutely batshit, Brigitte still loved her deeply. She convinced herself that that’s why she had tried to kill Ginger, because she loved her and wanted to save her from herself. There had been years of guilt in thinking about it...  The brunette could feel herself slipping back into their old dynamic. The quiet and broody younger sister with the abrasive and snarling older sister. “ I’m really glad to know that you’re doing so well. What... what have you been doing all these years? What have you been up to...? ” 

[lunarcaskets]

truly no ships ever hit harder than i’m supposed to be afraid of you and maybe i am a little bit,  but i’m also intrigued by you with the you should be afraid of me but i also don’t want you to be and idk why

[lunarcaskets]

moonshinaes​:

living with him was new , it was unexpected , but new . of course – giving him the space he needed , delilah didn’t leave her room for the past few days , then . . she did , one day . wanting to get to know the other , seeing how they were going to living , coexisting in under one roof . delilah’s quiet , for a second , then hearing the stove click on , fingers fiddling before she’s setting down her mug .

delilah wasn’t entirely one for eating , though , she’s forced herself to , in order to live a normal life & do things as one person would do if they were . . starting over . with the many times she’s tried cooking for herself , only to throw away the food & ignore it all , laying back in bed whilst she’s thinking about the many lives she had taken , all for what ? to feel something inside of her that could never be felt ? & like all killers , whatever people called them , delilah had remorse , she hated herself for it all . never wanting to do it , she felt sick to her stomach , which resulted in her throwing up bile – then going back to her pretend self , acting like everything was fine again .

she’s patient , still saying nothing as he’s cooking away in the kitchen – something she could be so thankful for , because she can’t even do it herself nowadays . & yes , she feels utterly pathetic , stupid – because she can’t even cook for herself , or him . if this were a story to tell people , she wouldn’t be proud to tell it , considering how it’s ridiculous , how she wants to wipe it completely from her very memory . delilah can’t bring herself to go inside of the kitchen , seeing how it reminds her of throwing food away .

which is why she’s sitting on the couch , has been since 7 in the morning . with nothing to say , only living with her thoughts , hearing voices in her head , claiming that she’s the problem , that she’s the issue here .

& on the very nights where she can’t seem to sleep , she’s staring at the ceiling , silently praying to god himself to kill her , because she doesn’t deserve to live . though , john’s become someone important to her that she doesn’t want to let him go , it’s selfish , yes – but she needs him . & she’s hoping that he doesn’t entirely . . need her in the ways that she needs him , nonetheless , it would be nice to be needed . to have the thought that someone aside from herself would want her to be there , present .

for a moment , she’s almost done feeling sorry for herself , but the self loathing is there . deep down , delilah knows she can never replace his wife , because – well , most importantly , that was his wife . something that should never be crossed . which is why she’s kept a little distance from him , seeing how she would never want to blur lines , really . & if she did , she’d lose respect in herself for doing such a thing . sometimes , she feels like she’s overstayed her welcome , that she should find her own place to live , however , she likes the comfort of someone being there with her .

she’s spacing out , before hearing his words & snapped back into reality , a chuckle of nervousness leaving her lips – shaking her head , as she’s making this short attempt to walk into the kitchen for once . eyes glancing over at john , the eggs – it feels . . so new to her , she doesn’t know what to do , or what to say . arms crossing as she’s listening to his sentence , slowly nodding her head , leaning it against the wall , humming softly . “ i’m sorry , john . ” she’s letting out , feeling ultimately bad that he’s cooking for them when it should be her . “ i – do you need some help ? i can . . get the plates , ” she’s responding , body in some sort of panic as she’s attempting to busy herself . “ i slept … perfectly fine , ” she’s lying , of course she’s lying . she doesn’t want to make him feel worse because he’s kept her awake , so she shrugs her shoulders , keeping her gaze away from him .

  He would allow her that reprieve, to lie about sleeping ‘ perfectly fine  ’ because, deep down, he had the sinking feeling it was the complete opposite of that. However, John didn’t want to make her feel in the spotlight, as if he were untrusting of Delilah’s words, so he gave a little hum of understanding, a quiet, “ Mmm, I’m glad to hear that.  ” A smile, foreign on his tired features, appeared as he glanced over toward the other, “  Sure, you can get out the plates. Utensils are in the drawer by the sink. On the right side.   ” He wasn’t entirely sure on what else to say. John wanted to say something, anything, that could potentially bring her comfort, and calm any frayed nerves that may be present. Frankly, John hoped that Delilah didn’t feel unwelcome in his home, but he wasn’t exactly the most eloquent when speaking from the heart. Sure, he was capable of doing so, but it took much unraveling to get to that point. It had taken a few years for him to even feel fully comfortable expressing to his ( dead ) wife his feelings toward her.  Dark brown eyes remained focused on the task in front of him, popping in two pieces of bread into the toaster. The eggs were fluffy and scrambled in the pan as he dished them out, evenly, on two plates. He hoped that Delilah would like them. Setting out salt, pepper and hot sauce between the plates, John turned in one graceful movement to grab the toast that had jumped out. Perhaps some old muscle memory, from a past life that seemed so many lives ago, was allowing him the pleasure of making this simple little dish. “  Would you like a refill of your coffee?   ” An ex-assassin saying this to a fellow ex-assassin might have been sort of comical, if under different circumstances. The domesticity of it all was what felt so strange.  His heart squeezed at the thought of Delilah leaving somewhere else. An aching and twisting deep within his ribcage that was desperate for some sort of companionship. Of anyone, she would understand what they had gone through; the horrors that they had faced were unique yet intertwined in familiarity. He knew no one else who had been exposed to a similar field. Of killing people for a job. How could such a thing even be considered a job? “ I’ve been... wondering...  ” John’s voice trailed off, quiet and thoughtful in his expression. How was he to say this without her feeling that she was being kicked out? His hands were rested on the table, a sign of trust toward Delilah and that he meant no harm, “ Are you okay with being here? I don’t want you to feel stuck. With me. You’re always welcome to come and go, as you please.    ”

[lunarcaskets]

if you don't terrify people a little bit then what's the point

[lunarcaskets]

finally home, awake and able to do some replies, i’ll be queueing them up as i do them :3

[lunarcaskets]

       Dr. Lecter's fingers steepled beneath his chin, patiently listening to what she said, before his head tilted when asked a question. She was a curious being to him, unreadable at times, and yet, other times, as readable as an open book. A conflicting anomaly that needed to be dissected, fully understood: mentally, physically and everything else in between.         As the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat... but satisfaction brought it back.        Fascinating response, the doctor thought to himself. Beneath his upper lip, his tongue lightly swiped across white teeth as Hannibal considered her inquiry, before leaning into his own thoughts, " Well... it makes you wonder, doesn't it? What exactly makes someone inhuman, literally or figuratively-- is it because they are a vile sociopath? Or someone who has been rejected and shoved into the underbelly of society...? Or.... perhaps... it could be something else entirely? " @brbievamp ! !

[lunarcaskets]

Well, Clarice… have the lambs stopped screaming?

[lunarcaskets]

No one, not even you, can kill everyone

Keanu Reeves as John Wick in John Wick Chapter 4 (2023)

[lunarcaskets]

         Her heart squeezed at the sound of that familiar voice. There was no way in hell that was... “    Ginger?   ” Brigitte whirled around, half expecting the ghost of her sister to wisp away into nothing more than a hollowed memory of what had been. Doe brown eyes drank in her sister’s appearance, unable to wrap her mind around the fact that she was physically there. Or, at least, Brigitte hoped she wasn’t having some sort of mental break down and hallucinating her. It had happened a few times, in the dead of night, when the stale walls of a motel room came creeping inward. Suffocating. Lonesome.  “ You’re.... you... ” Her voice trailed off, feeling stupid and frozen in place, a deer caught in the headlights. Brigitte had a hand partially raised, wanting to reach out and touch Ginger, but too scared it would make her vanish. “   I can’t believe it. You’re... you’re alive?  ”

@lunarcaskets​ … for brigitte ! 

❝  LOOK WHO the fuck it is  …  hey, Bee !  ❞  Her tone is void of any emotion, as well as her expression. She thought about this day long and hard, and she almost tried to avoid it entirely. But, she was tired of being on the run  —  she was an adult, and obviously if she wasn’t stopped the first time? Who was going to stop her now? 

[lunarcaskets]

moonshinaes​:

delilah didn’t want to remember what happened , what she did for her ounce of freedom . & it came with so much trauma , hurt , pain . the anger she had for herself when she left town to go out of the country – the endless nights she had when she couldn’t sleep , but instead , laid awake at night , looking up at the ceiling , wondering where she could’ve been instead of there : instead of hurting people because her employer said so . sometimes , she’d hope & pray that the next morning , she wouldn’t be awake . why would she be awake for that ? when she lifts up the weapon , whatever it may be – she would be taking the life from that person . yes , she’s thought about it , many times . to leave , to get out , start a new life . but oh , the attached fear of her employer finding her , killing her … she couldn’t do that to herself . plus , the money was perfect – & knowing her , if she wanted to start over , she needed the money . & badly , one could say .

this , the story of her starting over . leaving , retiring , they’d call it . the impurity of it all was her leaving , was her standing her ground one night – told her employer that she wouldn’t be continuing her work . & for years , she called it ’ being an art dealer ’ , because it sounded less … ominous , at least to her . delilah was someone who wanted to pride themselves on their own work , but this ? she wasn’t proud & she couldn’t find the pride in it , at all . she felt empty , most nights , wanting for all of it to go away . that’s all she wanted , knowing that she’d regret it & she did – she hated herself for it , for killing people with families , something she wanted , but couldn’t have . hell , she even said goodbye to long term relationships , with the fear that her significant other would leave her once finding out what she did . or if she had come home bloody one night , that’s the thing she was terrified of , actually .

hence why she was so closed off , why she couldn’t fathom being in something like that , seeing how she never had the time to . & forget about it – in fact . nonetheless , john was a great help , he was there – & in the same position she was , only it felt different . they were almost the same person , except , well , he had more than she did . & she felt bad , she really did , considering how he had lost someone close to him , something that would’ve broken her if it happened . she’s attempted to find hobbies that made her feel like she existed , like she was a human being on her own regard , not owned by someone . & it had taken her a long time to realize that , in fact .

once she had left , delilah found that therapy was something she was going to do , that she needed help because her nightmares weren’t going away , none of it was . the memories , the killing – it was her past , & being there with him was her present , or something that she was convincing herself that it was . what was considered her normal ? trying to sleep , hoping that no one would be after her , going to therapy . hands shaky from the nightmares , eyes baggy from loss of sleep . some days , delilah would look like a ghost – with her heart racing against her chest , wondering if they’d be after her . among other things , she wanted to let go of her past , she wanted to let go of all of it . & she wanted to be free , be happy , get to that point in her life where there was nothing to worry about anymore .

hearing his voice , she’s nodding her head : with thoughts flowing in her mind – sipping on her drink as she’s slowly – yet surely setting her legs down , feet touching the ground . “ don’t worry about it , ” she’s letting out , another attempt at looking at him , this time , a contented sigh leaving her lips . was this going to be her new normal ? drinking coffee in the morning , staring off into space ? god – she wasn’t exactly ready for it , but she’d try her best . “ that sounds . . perfect , actually . ” lips curling into a reassuring smile , hoping that they would both reach the peace they wanted , though in the meantime , she was going to do everything she could , to ensure her own sanity . “ how’d you sleep , john ? ”

     His smile was gentle, and unassuming, at her response to having eggs and toast  for breakfast. click, click, fwoom. A little flame flickered to life. It was a simple meal but it was about all he could stomach nowadays; not being able to find it within himself to eat more than a small birds share of food through out the day. Probably had something to do with the fact that trained killers were expected to remain lean and fit; prepared for any sort of danger that could encircle them. Or maybe it was punishment for all the different atrocities he had committed through out his life. Either way, there were many habits he couldn’t shake, and two of them having to do with consistent exercise and monitoring food intake. However, with all of that said, there was a comfort to be had when Delilah was around. While they were both shell-shocked from the horrors of their ‘ past profession ’ -- if you could call it such a thing -- she helped keep him grounded just by mere presence alone. If anything, having her around had encouraged John to open up a bit more, to uncoil himself into something a little less animalistic and maybe into something a little more human. He was the snake and she had, inadvertently, become his sunlight. In some regard, Delilah was akin to a life-raft for him. Keeping his mind from completely drifting off to the darkest bits of himself; the parts of him that reminded of blood, carnage and bullet holes. Of stab wounds and the dark red that stained his clothes, hands and face. Of the pallid and blank expression of his target, that lay lifeless on the ground at his feet, just another number ticked off the list. Although, with every positive, came the creeping negative. Rearing its ugly, tiny head like the vicious, little creature that it is. Delilah also reminded him, in many unintentional ways, of his deceased wife. It ached deep within his chest.  A hollowed out part of him that had never, and could never, be replaced. He pondered if maybe taking therapy would help with that piece of himself. Another part of him doubted that it would. His trust of others was minimal to none. John grabbed the egg carton from the fridge, plucking a handful of them before cracking six into an already sizzling pan. There was lightness to his step, but an intentional scuffing of his feet to prove that he still existed. “ I... well, I slept.... ” He sighed, his expression dismal before bluntly admitting, “ Honestly, I slept like shit. But when is that not the case, huh? ” A sardonic laugh and a light shake of his head, before turning the question onto her. His tone was soft as he asked, “ How’d you sleep, Delilah? ” There was no doubt that she had heard the many times he’d woken up screaming. Thrashing about wildly as if someone were attacking, before snapping awake with a startled gasp. Blinking in the inky night as his heart thudded like a jackhammer in his chest.

[lunarcaskets]

i’ve caught up on all threads, so i’m gonna work more on my blog. mostly the bios since they’re kind of a hot mess rn 💀💀

[lunarcaskets]

An impish smile curled at the corners of Murphy’s lips, wisps of smoke having escaped and trailed behind him as he walked further into the diner. He’d been sure to tamp out the last remains of his cigarette, pressing it willfully into the brick outside, before heading indoors. The smell of tobacco clung to him like a cologne; a common scent for the MacManus boys. A vice that wasn’t exactly easy to let go. With head slightly tilted, as he peered over at the stranger in the far back booth, eyes slowly grazed over any other empty spaces, before landing back onto his original spot. He approached the booth with a quiet confidence that came from years of dealing with men twice his size.  “Looks like my spot’s been taken tonight,” Murphy said, a corner of his mouth tilted upward, it was meant lightheartedly, as he didn’t really care that much, but he was as curious as he was playful. There was something about this stranger that caught his attention above everyone else, but he wasn’t able to place a finger on it. “ Ya know, don’t think I’ve seen you ‘round before. ”

Closed starter for @lunarcaskets

For once, Thomas and his twin were ahead when it came to their finances. Their rents were paid, they both had enough groceries to keep themselves fed, and the truck’s gas tank was full. Having already set aside money so that Evelyn could purchase new clothes at the thrift store, Thomas decided to treat himself to a burger. After a long day at the construction site, he had gone home and showered before walking to the local tavern. He opened the door and found a seat in the back that allowed him to survey the entire bar before reaching for a menu.

[lunarcaskets]

somebrokenfate​:

Maggie rolled her eyes with a quiet laugh. Murphy was her favorite customer, hell, he would be up there in her Top 5 favorite people of all time. “Where’s Connor?” She was curious at the absence of his brother, not that she minded. Murphy was her favorite. Not that that was something she would easily admit to. Her feelings about anyone and everyone were kept close to her chest. 

“Hey,” At the smell of cigerette smoke she looked up and pointed a finger at him. “You know the rules. The minute you here that ding,” She pointed to the bell above the door, “the cigarette goes out.” She moved from behind the counter, one hand on her hip and the other reaching out expectedly, “and you share. After the shit show that was the lunch rush, I need it.”

   “ Eh, he’s off doin’ fuck all.  ” Murphy gave a lazy, noncommittal wave of his hand, cigarette rested between index and middle finger before taking another deep drag. Truthfully speaking, Connor was checking out an underground gun dealer for future artillery, but he wasn’t going to tell that to Maggie. Outside of wanting to see his favorite waitress, Murphy didn’t want to deal with Connor’s nagging, and indecisiveness, on what he wanted for his next weapon of choice. A soft lilt of laughter parted from him as he said, “ Probably off shaggin’ some bird, if we’re bein’ honest. ” “Aw, c’mon, Mags. Don’t be sucha stickler... it’s cold outside. ” A teasing complaint, and a sly wink, seeing as he did know better but that didn’t mean Murphy wasn’t willing to bend, break or shift the rules as he saw fit. Though, he adored the fact that Maggie was willing to do the same, as he handed her the lit cigarette in a smoothness that said: they’d done this before. Her scolding him for smoking in the diner and Murphy passing off said contraband over for Maggie to tag a drag off of. At this point, it had become something of a playful habit for him and, hopefully, Maggie didn’t mind too much. However, he sensed that there might have been something more than the rush hour of lunchtime getting to her, but he also wasn’t going to hard pressed if she dismissed his concern. With a little tilt of his head, Murphy asked,  “  You doin’ okay? ”

[lunarcaskets]

please reblog this post if your muse is from the EIGHTIES! (not born in the eighties, but their media is from the eighties OR present-day media SET IN THE EIGHTIES such as stranger things!)  in order to be included on this list you must include in the tags:

canon or oc muse

single or multi muse blog

your character’s full name ( ie, tom kazansky/iceman or snake plissken )

name of their media (ie, top gun, escape from new york, stephen king’s IT, etc.)

if your muse has a verse in media from the eighties, please include VERSE in the tags somewhere.

     example tags:      #canon, #single muse, #tom kazansky/iceman

[lunarcaskets]

Hesitation washed over Brigitte, already sensing that a vehicle, of some sort, was approaching, but was unsure if it would stop until, finally, a truck halted beside her in a low rumble. Many cars had passed her by, but this had been the first to stop. Timid brown eyes peered over at the woman who had spoken. Whoever she was, her tone sounded soft, approachable, and hopefully no ill intent upon asking if she was okay. Truthfully, Brigitte hadn’t been okay for quite some time. Not since her sister had died, and not since she had been turned into a werewolf herself. However, this stranger didn’t need to know this. She fidgeted with a small, wooden box clasped in both of her hands. Swallowing back all of those whirling thoughts, she put on the faintest smile, offering an olive branch, “I’m... well, I’m okay. I guess. My car broke down a few miles back but... ” Brigitte gnawed at her bottom lip. Would she allow this stranger a moment into her life, entertain the possibility...? Indecisiveness swirled in her chest, before letting out in a rush, “ Do you have a phone I can use? Mine died. Drained the battery trying to find cell service.  ” The thick smell of car exhaust filled her nostrils, blocking out any other scent nearby.

Closed starter for @lunarcaskets

As Evie drove back to her apartment after the late shift at the 24-hour diner - getting off at midnight - she saw a woman walking along the side of the road. For her, not an altogether uncommon thing to do, given that she shared her truck with her twin and they couldn’t always find jobs in the same town. That, along with the fact that night was the best and safest time to run, meant she’d spent her fair share of time since they left the pack walking the roadside. But she also knew it wasn’t a common act for the average person, and she slowed her truck, rolling down the window as she asked with a kind smile, “Are you all right? Did your car break down or something? I know it can be hard to get cell service out here…”