#Luna's fics talks

[ladynicte]

Really wanna write fics but also it's kinda hard when I know I won't really get any interaction back from the months of hard work it will surely take

[yun-fangz]

oh this.... the hands........ him...... losing it /?2$2!

[theladycarpathia]

I am without a deadline for a fest, big bang, or zine for the first time in a year and I...actually don't know what to do with myself. I can write anything I want. I am free to write without the fear of approaching deadlines merrily sailing by. However, without reasonable boundaries and structure this....may present some issues.

Yeah. This should end well.

[barclaysangel]

Y’all remember the “Junior Wheeler if he was 9 years old during Chucky season 1” AU that I made?

Well, I reread the oneshot that I wrote for that this morning and I suddenly really missed the AU…so how would y’all feel if I wrote more of it?

If you guys want that, here’s the thing…I don’t have too much ideas. I have a few but not a lot. So while this isn’t technically a “Request something and I’ll 100% write it” thing, but if you have some ideas, pls tell me and I may write it.

So yeah, lemme know pls :)

[kraviolis]

*clings onto any and all characters who show both subtle or explicit signs of plurality from all of my various interests and hyperfixations consistently throughout my entire life* no no its all a coincidence im just fascinated with the concept i certainly dont relate to it haha

[lunannex]

While I’m talking about headcanons: my favorite Faranak hc is that she’s fat. Think about it — her happy and healthy in Fontaine after spending so many years drowning in her grief. I think Kaveh, on the other hand, was mildly underweight until he started living with Alhaitham. He spent years putting himself last to make sure his mother was always eating well. Living with Alhaitham gives him a chance to build a home again, while Faranak gathers her own support system in Fontaine.

That’s why I think a lot about that moment where they finally get the chance to talk about everything. Healing and bonding through food. Particularly by making fatteh, the dish Kaveh’s father taught him to make when he was a child. They teach each other recipes to other dishes that they’ve picked up over the years since they parted ways. It’s about getting to know each other again in their truest forms. Kaveh being open about those old wounds born from having an emotionally neglectful parent and having to grow up too fast. Faranak acknowledging her mistakes and knowing that she can’t take it all back, but wanting to be there for him regardless if he lets her.

Basically: love is stored in the kitchen and these two deserve to heal. Faranak’s grief is not an excuse for her neglect but I personally love that about her. It makes them and their relationship so delightfully complex. A well meaning parent who made so many missteps along the way, but still loves her son so much.

[non-un-topo]

Just got a wave of affection for my horse OCs... as in, the random horses that appear in my fics

[lunasky2491]

an update from my fic no different than you

here i present some shitty sun quotes that i have made in this chapter

this chapter being represented around james as i want to show a different side of him

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

These two rarely get to interact so when they did I had to screenshot as much as I could <3

[ladynicte]

36.  Last sentence you wrote (because ooh random)

40.  Share some backstory for one of your character (because every writer deserves to share the newest niche-est bit of info abt their oc’s)

I took two from the fun section because… they’re the most fun looking, I hope you enjoy answering them :)

36: He grabbed her hand back, and swung her from side to side, she giggled, like a rowdy gremlin child. It reminded him of when they used to play in the mud outside together. He couldn't look her in the eyes “...You are my favorite girl too, Leyley.” <- This is from that fluffy Andy and Leyley fic I'm writing, actually.

40: So when I was in middle school I wrote an entire novella/visual novel that's completely finished and edited and it never saw the light of day. And the main character is named Vina Arash, and she was a mafia member/spy . And her backstory was that her family completely despised the mafia but she was so tired of living in poverty she decided to get disowned by all of them and chase that high-risk high-reward bag (At the end she gets it, and a boyfriend too, btw) And I guess a niche aspect about her is that she's very heavily inspired by the main character of La Reina del Sur a Spanish book/telenovela.

Thank you so much! I think this is basically the first time I ever speak about any of my ocs that aren't based around a pre-existing work, it's so fun! ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

[yun-fangz]

dilf!ateez who are into dumbification.

whenever you come home stressed and/or upset, they're more than happy to occupy your thoughts, dumbing you down with their cocks or fingers. they'd speak to you so softly, cooing as they continued to wipe every thought from your mind, loving the way you'd just melt into them. they just love taking care of their baby. <3

-

purely self indulgent, i need to be dumbed down by them :,(

[lunaekalenda]

girls i think i might be deeply crushed terribly into him now it's irreversible (tags for gossip)

[barclaysangel]

If Junior was at Lochmoor with Nica AU

Well well well…another Junior AU. I know, I have a problem. But watching Nurse Ratched gave me the idea of 10 year old Junior being at Lochmoor with Nica. Does it make sense logically? Most likely not. Did I write it in less than two days? …definitely.

This AU just wasn’t leaving my mind at all so I had to write it and here it is! It’s a bit long but I’m quite proud of how it turned out. I’m not sure if this is gonna be an actual fic, most likely not, but maybe I’ll write a series of oneshots for this AU. I do have a few ideas so if you guys like this, including on how to bring Andy in and how Junior and Nica get out of Lochmoor, so please let me know if that’s something y’all are interested in! I thrive off comments, they fuel my motivation!

Thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 3K

Tags: @nicascurls @fairchilds-glasses @high-functioning-fang1rl @streets-in-paradise @zelinksupporter

Junior got used to the hospital. 

It was often cold and many of the patients there were scary, but he knew how to keep quiet and sit alone in a corner, drawing whatever came to mind to keep himself occupied until the next round of medicine and shocks. 

He didn’t know if he deserved all of that, deserved to be the only child in a big and terrifying hospital. But those patients committed crimes and he, in a way, did too. 

It just felt like Junior’s life fell apart. Maybe it always was falling apart. His dad was strict with him, forcing him into doing cross-country, forcing him to eat less, always forcing and controlling him. But his mom was there, trying to keep him safe the most she could. 

Then she died. And he was so painfully alone. Junior wishes he could remember what happened during the time of her death to ending up at the hospital, but it was like a blur. He remembered just bits and pieces of everything. 

The funeral, everyone dressed in black. 

His bedroom, perfect and clean before being destroyed and broken from a fit of rage that he didn’t remember. 

His trophies from cross-country shattered. 

The biggest trophy with specks of blood. 

Blood on the back and side of his father’s head. 

The doctors say that Junior had “psychosis”. That he was experiencing “manic and depressive episodes” despite his very young age, the tragic death of his mother triggering those “episodes”. 

His father said that he was a dangerous “psychopath” who tried to kill him. 

Junior hardly knew what any of those words meant. To him, it just meant that he was crazy and a monster who could hurt anyone at any given moment, so he had to be sent away. 

Sent away to Lochmoor at barely ten years old. 

It was hard at first. He hated the way the “vitamins” made him feel, not to mention the shocks they would put in his head. It would leave marks on his temples and make him feel overall terrible. The nurses had to put Junior on his side after each shock session since he would vomit in his sleep, he apparently almost choked to death before when he threw up while lying flat on his back after the very first time he got shocked. 

Some days he wished he did die, then he wouldn’t need to keep being in such a scary place. 

Then other days, it wasn’t too bad. He could be left somewhat alone, drawing with some paper and crayons they would allow him to have. Junior was never the best at drawing, all the art skills belonged to his cousin, Jake. But the more he drew, almost every single day, the better he started getting at it. 

I guess Jake was right. Practice does make perfect. Junior thought to himself and then got sad to remember that he wasn’t going to be able to tell Jake that and deal with his cousin annoying him about how he was right. 

He hardly spoke to anyone there, mainly only a couple of his doctors. They wanted to know what made him “snap”. He told them what he remembered, how controlling his father was and how he was even afraid of him. 

But Junior could tell that they didn’t believe him. That his father was a good and smart man, that he would never do those things or that his “mania and depression” misinterpreted the things his father did. 

Maybe they were right. His brain was sick after all, maybe his father wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. 

Junior didn’t know anything and for the next three months, he kept to himself. He minded his own business, drew whenever he could, took his vitamins, but still cried and tried to run whenever it was time for the shock sessions. Not to mention how he cries himself to sleep every single night, wishing he was dead and buried beside his mom, staying with her instead forever and ever. 

But this was his life now. At least until the doctors finally tell him he’s better. But he doesn’t know when that will ever happen. So for now, he stays still. 

Then a new patient arrived, a woman with dark curly hair in a wheelchair. Junior recognized a new face easily, growing more and more observant the longer he stayed in Lochmoor. It wasn’t anything too new for him, even when she stared at him like she was confused as to why he would be there. 

He got that look a lot, because of his age. He still feels like he should get some kind of award for being the youngest patient at Lochmoor. 

But she would always smile and wave at him, even at times where she looked afraid or upset. For the first few days, Junior didn’t return the smiles or waves. He would keep drawing and try to ignore her stares. But something about her felt warm and kind, a feeling he had forgotten about after so long of not feeling it. 

Eventually, he would wave back at her. And then, after nearly two weeks, he did something else. Junior got up, walked toward the woman, sat down on the floor near her wheelchair, and continued his drawing. He did all of this silently, not knowing what to say since he was so used to just not talking. 

It didn’t take long for her to take the initiative. 

“Hi.” The woman said, her voice gentle and light, as if she was being cautious. 

Junior didn’t say anything for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Hi.” 

“What’s your name?” She asked him next. 

The entire time, he was keeping his eyes on his drawing, grabbing a black crayon. “Junior.” 

“Nice to meet you, Junior. I’m Nica.” 

Junior finally looked at her, the corners of his lips turning upwards, the most he could smile nowadays. “Nice to meet you too, Nica.”

The woman–Nica–smiled at him, that sweet and soft smile he had seen her send to him before. The more he looked at her, the more he noticed the scar on her forehead, angry and red, but healing. He didn’t say anything though, he went back to coloring and figured he would be doing it in silence. 

“How old are you?” Nica asked after a few seconds, making Junior think for a moment. 

It was getting harder for him to remember the days and the months, sometimes it felt like his brain was getting fuzzy and foggy. 

“Ten. Ten in September. That was…last year, I think. I’ll be eleven this year.” He finally responded, adjusting his position so he was sitting in a more criss cross position. 

“You’re a child…” She said, sounding shocked and almost confused. Or horrified? He couldn’t quite tell. 

Junior looked at her and merely shrugged his shoulders. “I know. But I can handle it.” He said simply and began coloring in his drawing, scrunching his eyebrows together in concentration. 

“Can I ask what you’re drawing?” Normally, he would be annoyed that someone kept interrupting him. But she spoke lightly to him, so it didn’t make him as upset as he would usually get. 

Maybe the treatments were actually working afterall. 

“My mom.” Junior said softly, finishing off coloring her black hair before putting the crayon down and grabbing the magenta crayon. 

“She looks pretty.” Nica said, noticing her peering down to look at the drawing. It wasn’t perfect, far from it. Again, he wasn’t an artist. But he tried to draw her the most, almost everyday, so he wouldn’t forget what she looked like. 

“Yeah…yeah, she was…” He replied, his voice sad as he stared at the picture. Junior took a deep breath, not wanting to start crying in front of someone. He tried to think of his father’s words instead. 

Don’t be such a pussy, you’re a man! Act like it! It seemed to work for the time being, clearing his throat and began using the magenta crayon to color in his mom’s dress. 

Junior figures that Nica was going to ask him next what happened to his mom, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t say a word. Maybe she already knows somehow, just by that small bit of reaction that he had. 

Whatever it was, he was grateful that she didn’t say anything. 

He was quiet still, his movement slowing down before looking up at Nica. “Do you…wanna draw too?” 

She looked a little surprised at his request before smiling again, nodding. “I would like that, thanks.” 

Junior nodded and passed her one of his other pieces of paper and other crayons that he had. They spent the next few minutes doing that, silently drawing by one another’s side. It was kind of strange to Junior but not enough to make him want to leave. For some reason, it was almost…nice. Nice and comforting and peaceful. 

It was almost like he had a friend he’s known his whole life. 

“Your drawing is really good.” Junior said after a moment, looking up to see the different types of flowers she drew. 

“Thank you, I’ve had years of practice.” Nica said with a smile as Junior began drawing a sun in the corner of his paper. 

He drew suns a lot since it feels like it’s been years since he got to feel the sun hitting his face. 

“Junior…can I ask you something?” She asked him hesitantly. 

“Mhm.” He mumbled simply, already suspecting what she was planning to ask him, the same as some of the other patients. 

“Why are you here? You don’t seem dangerous at all to need maximum security. You’re just a kid.” 

And because Junior expected the question, he answered as honestly as he would with the others. 

“Because I tried to kill my father.” 

The silence was loud enough to hear a pin drop. But since Nica wasn’t leaving him yet, Junior decided to continue. 

“That’s what they said I did. I don’t remember. Something about a ‘psychotic breakdown’. Whatever that means. I think it’s just a fancy way of saying I went crazy after mom died from cancer and tried to kill my father but he was able to stop me. I didn’t mean to try and kill him. I think I just wanted him to stop controlling me. I wanted to be free. But now I’m here for…I don’t know how long. It’s been some months now. I guess we’ll see.”

Now this is the part where Nica leaves. Where she’ll come up with some excuse and then never get next to him or talk to him ever again. Because who would trust a kid who tried to murder their own father? No one, that’s who. And she was going to be one of them. 

But almost a full minute had passed and Nica was still there. Maybe she was waiting for him to leave? That must be why, so Junior started gathering the rest of his crayons so he could get up and move away from her. 

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Nica suddenly said, making him stop and pause, looking at her in confusion. 

“...what?” 

“You’re not crazy. You’re just a little boy who lost his mother. Took out his pain on his father. Did you get help after your mom died? Before you ended up here?” She asked him and Junior shook his head. “You should’ve gotten help. If your father cared, he would’ve done that. You don’t deserve to be here.” 

Yes I do. I’m a psychopath. He wanted to say but decided not to. 

He didn’t know why. Maybe deep down, he didn’t believe he was that crazy. That he was dangerous and wanted to hurt people. He didn’t know and would probably never find out anyway. 

“Why are you here then?” Junior decided to ask her this time. “You seem nice. I don’t know why you would end up being here.” 

Nica looked sad for a moment, looking away as she fidgeted with her sleeves before looking back at him. “They said that I killed my family. But I didn’t. It wasn’t me, I swear.”

Junior looked at her, trying to read her. She seemed to believe it, and seemed saddened by whatever happened to her family. She seemed to be convinced that she really didn’t do it. 

Or maybe Nica was crazy. But so was Junior, so he didn’t care either way. 

And if she decided to snap and kill him? Then he would just end up with his mother, something he’s been wanting anyway, so he didn’t care. 

“I believe you.” Junior said simply, putting down the rest of his crayons down and settling back into his original position. 

Nica looked a little surprised but almost relieved. “You do?”

He smiled just a tiny bit and nodded. “Uh huh. I do. You don’t seem mean enough to do something like that. So…do you pinkie promise that you didn’t do it?” He asked, holding up his pinkie to her. 

She smiled kindly at him, nodding before holding up her own pinkie and wrapping it around his. “I promise.” 

Junior started to relax, genuinely trusting her, but he was pulled out of his thoughts by one of the orderlies. “Wheeler. Come on, it’s time for your treatment.”

His eyes widened, knowing what the treatments actually meant. 

Shocks. 

It was time for him to get shocked. 

Junior whimpered quietly and started to slowly move away. “Please, please, I-I’ve been good! I’ve been good, I don’t wanna be shocked, please…” But the orderlies started to move closer so he put his cross-country skills to use. 

He sprung up and bolted. 

He knew it was futile but he had to try, screaming loudly when he felt one of the orderlies grab him before Junior was able to get out of the room, now scratching and biting at the orderly wherever he could. Through his screaming, he could vaguely hear Nica’s voice, telling them to stop and to not hurt him, but Junior knew how they were. They weren’t going to stop. Not until there was a needle in his arm and his body started to shut down. He tried to hold on, tried so hard, but he knew it was better to be asleep than awake when he was shocked. And his world went black. 

Unfortunately, just because he was asleep, doesn't mean he couldn’t feel anything. He felt each painful shock, making his entire body jolt, even sometimes waking him up midway only to be put back to sleep after he started screaming. 

Please, make it stop. Please, please, please, I can’t take this anymore. It hurts too much, I don’t want to keep feeling this! Just kill me! Kill me! Please, please, please, please, ple–

Junior doesn’t know when it stopped. He doesn’t remember much after that. He remembered throwing up when he was back in his bed before falling back asleep, his arms and legs still twitching and jolting. It felt like he was fading away, slipping in and out, in and out, in and…

Junior didn’t know what time it was, but it had to have been getting late. 

He needed to get up and go for a run. 

Try to see if he could run an extra mile. 

That would make his dad happy. 

Yes, he would be happy. 

And then maybe he could eat a little more for breakfast if his dad was happy. 

It’s a good idea. 

He just needed to get up right now. 

“Junior?”

What was that?

It was probably nothing, just his imagination again. 

“Junior, can you hear me?” 

Wait, there it was again. 

The voice was soft and warm, so warm…it sounded like mom’s…

“Come on, baby, I need you to wake up. You need to snap out of it, okay?”

Snap out of it? Snap out of what?

The voice did sound like mom’s but it was different. 

But still familiar. 

She sounded like…

“Junior? Honey?”

Junior woke up. 

He blinked a few times, realizing that he wasn’t in his room, back at his father’s house. There were gray walls all around him and a certain chill to it, something that always frightened him. He was at Lochmoor. He’s always been in Lochmoor. Sitting in the very corner of the main room, his knees pulled into his chest. 

How did he get there? 

Did they put him there or did he walk there on his own?

He couldn’t even remember. 

But he did recognize the woman’s voice, it was–

“Ni…ca…” Junior spoke slowly, struggling to find his voice, his words. 

Right. He got the shocks. He remembered now. That’s why his brain was fuzzy and in pain, his insides still twisting and churning. 

This was where he was now. 

“Oh, honey, what did they do to you…?” Nica murmured to herself, but he knew that she knew the answer. He realized that her hands were on his cheeks, gentle and light, looking at the side of his head. 

He had burn marks again, that much he knew. He had seen them before, the small burns and discoloration on his temples. They would go away in a few days, but he hated just knowing they were there. 

“Hurts…it hurts…” Junior managed to mumble out and one of Nica’s hands went through his hair, soothing back the dark strands so gently. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just take some deep breaths, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” She told him softly and he started to tear up. 

Normally he could try to stop it, but he couldn’t now. He accepted defeat, accepted the pain he was in, but leaned forward and pressed his cheek against her knee while clinging onto her leg. 

Nica didn’t move him, continuing to stroke his hair in light and soothing notions, whispering to him but Junior didn’t know what she was saying. It didn’t matter though because despite the pain, he realized something. 

He wasn’t alone. 

For the first time in so long, he wasn’t alone. 

Junior finally had a friend and maybe he was going to be okay.

[astrxq]

this is something i thought about writing, but the spark is missing. maybe it appeals to you? reader is being found in the forest, covered in dirt, dress ripped, with no memory of how she got there. Team Black finds her and while she recovers in their home, Jace and her drift towards each other more and more. She doesn't speak, but eventually opens up to Jace despite the horrors she has likely seen.... idk it could be a nice spooky thing, maybe you like it?

OHHH IM UP WAIT

[chronologically-challenged]

A little ramble about fics under the tag. Nothing bad but it got a bit long agajdksla

Had a realization that To Dream to be Real is at this rate 100% gonna pass Take Pride in Your Humanity in kudos and... idk that is a weird fucking feeling. That fic has been my biggest pride (ha) in my works even if I think I've written better since then. DP fandom is so much bigger and ISAT is newer so it makes since why Take Pride would be buried over time.

But still fucking wild to me. Take Pride getting well received basically kick started my long term writing hobby. I've had a singular fic pass it and that was a multichapter one which I have all but disowned since then. And now nearly a decade later To Dream will likely surpass it within a few months. It's such odd parallels too. Take Pride was my first DP fic and To Dream was my first isat one. So it's come full circle in a way.

Not much point in this ramble. Just. A little surreal. Thank you for the support and lovely comments everyone. It's been wonderful in this fandom so far, and while I've been a bit slow lately in writing, it's been such a fun fandom to write for. Hopefully I can post more finished works soon ♥️♥️♥️

[wandaxpietro]

everything goes so slow for pietro i am 100% convinced he's incredibly terminally online to get his dopamine hits. he's so active on twitter people are worried about him. he keeps getting suspended bcuz he keeps sending people death threats and doxxing them and then has to call tony up so he can pay to get his accound back. he shows up in front of houses of people he beefs with. he fights with teenagers online all day. the official avengers twitter account has him blocked.