I started writing fanfiction back in middle school. For me, middle school was about eight/nine years ago. I start writing fanfictions for Teen Wolf and then spread to Supeenatural and have since opened to even more fandoms. I do share my work on a couple different sites including the fandoms rescpective amino group, Wattpad, Ao3, here, and Quotev. All of these use the same username of Zynestehildar. My reason for using so many different platforms is to get more feedback so I can improve my work.

i’d like to share: book readers who think fic is trashy are reading the wrong fic and fic readers who think books are trashy are reading the wrong books.

i’ve been itching to write about this, so hold on. wild ride.

some people refuse to read fanfiction because it’s “written by 12-year-olds key smashing” and fic readers who refuse to read books because they can’t get invested in oc’s any more or prefer the tagged trigger warnings in front of fics.

let me give insight into that “twelve-year-old”. age doesn’t determine your quality of writing, although experience helps immensely. here’s a demography survey from the subreddit on fanfiction. age: only 1/5 were under 18. the major fic platforms include fanfiction.net, wattpad, and ao3. 80% of wattpad’s audience were millennials or gen z. from my experience, wattpad and ffnet tend to have younger writers/readers, ao3′s age demography is higher. some of my favourite writers range from 13 - 38 or have unknown ages. does that affect their stellar writing? absolutely not. (please check the links in the comments)

some fics do have questionable punctuation, terrible pacing and plot holes everywhere, but also masterpieces exist that could rival the calibre of official books.

in my opinion, it’s great with parameters. there’s the tricky business of writing about real people. there are multitudes of blogs that log what creators (ex: dream) feel comfortable with fic so their boundaries aren’t violated. fictional characters are different, but the rule of thumb is to write respectfully, as in any genre.

fic can be a coping mechanism; escapism’s blooming in quarantine. fic goes where traditional books haven’t. mindless fluff or unrequited love diseases, villain versions of comfort characters, crack-like humour, countless variations of cliche friends to lovers.

and it takes effort. one of my favourite authors wrote 147k (around 2x harry potter and the philosopher’s stone) in a few months, and another’s about to hit 1mil words for au’s. it’s easy to swallow 233k of fic over a weekend, 40k, 26k in a night because i love the characters already and there are countless stories.

fic’s incredible for learning to write for specific characters since a slate stbalished with references; amounts of research certain fic demands is rigorous and overall fic’s helped me develop my style.

some of my friends got into fic to get back into reading. one couldn’t visit bookstores and turned to fic for stories about her favourite character and his universe. now, she reads fic between classics like jane eyre.

however, the greatest asset of fanfiction’s the community it creates, it’s support in the skeleton of fandoms. writing’s typically thought of as solitary, but fic connects fans, artists, and creators. getting your writing out there, getting comments and sweet advice grows readers and writers.

ao3. it’s a bunch of broke and ambitious authors writing because they can. it’s pure and unmonetized art. no monetary gain for writers, no capitalism involved. only people mad about writing and mad about reading.

I started writing fanfiction when I was in college, about ten years ago. A friend got me reading Harry Potter fanfiction in high school, but I only ever read what she recommended, which was well written. It wasn't until much later that I realized how many poorly-written fanfictions there are out there, and I got tired of trying to sift through it all. So, I don't read it often, but I can get in the mood for it.

I didn't post my first fanfiction until about a year ago, and I've only posted four or five since (mostly in the StarGate fandom on fanfiction.net). I have a tendency to come up with plot ideas while I'm watching a series, and I start writing it, but as the show plays out, my idea isn't possible with the canon, or I lose interest after I'm done watching the show. So, I end up with a bunch of half-finished fanfics on my computer.

Even without finishing them, I enjoy writing fanfiction, as it gives you parameters - already established characters and worlds - and you get to play within them. It makes for good writing exercises without the hassle of coming up with your own original characters and situations. I like to use it to practice certain parts of writing - dialogue, setting the scene, etc. It takes a lot of the pressure off if you don't feel like you have to introduce everything like you do when it's original. It takes a lot of the "work" out of writing and allows you to just have fun and write.

As a general rule, I tend to avoid fanfiction. Most of the fanfics I find are badly written, or they come up with ships out of nowhere.

But if I find a really good series, I want to write a fanfiction for it.

Currently, I'm posting a Percy Jackson fanfiction on Wattpad, and I'm actually really proud of the story. A friend and I are working on a fanfic set in the Harry Potter universe. Sometimes, fanfictions are fun.

I actually had a long debate with myself about whether or not I wanted to post my fanfiction. I felt like I should stick to more original stuff. But as the story went along, I just felt like I had to post it. And so, here I am.

(If you want to check it out, my Wattpad user is WhiteWolfe32 and the fanfic is called The Heir).

As a result, I'm currently pretty ambivalent about fanfictions. But who knows, maybe my position will change in the future?

I guess we'll have to wait and see...

I sat in the solar ambience of

my wicked room

peering at a foreign life,

Her sapphire eyes poured

onto my impatient skin,

tingling with aching aspirations-

Just a glimpse,

just a glance

and love vanished:

To the void Cupid shoots.

I could not think of death

when I awoke in the starry

fields of mania and bliss.

Ravenous beasts erupted from

unburdened chambers of

induced heroics,

Sneaking turquoise veins conquered

crumbling stone walls imbued

with Good and Evil beyond...

Eden in the

eyes of dreamers.

Eternity on the

dainty fingers of time,

Her void touch

paralyzed my arctic breath

instantaneously.

Elements stripped of life

by an insatiable black hole

of scolding,frigid bliss.

In intimate instances...

I interact with the

bruises in my

tortured temple...

My empire of sanity.

I live life through screens,

love and loss in separate acts,

pausing and playing mishaps.

Hours are episodes,

titles display pain.

Her soft presence

was enough for now.

I have tattoos.

Too many.

They can't be seen.

We all get tattoos,

because we want to remember something.

For the rest of our lives.

I don't want to remember.

I want to forget.

I want to lose myself a million times.

But the tattoos around my goddamn heart,

are reminders that never seem to fade away.

I have three tattoos so far (I count them as three / they could be four or twenty) and their unifying theme is that they're all black.

For some reason I decided early on - at 14, when I still debated whether getting scratched by a needle was worth looking cool - that none of my tattoos would be in color. It might sound odd, but I didn't like the look of colorful tattoos. As they aged they faded into pastel, chalky shadows; whereas black tattoos faded like fine ink on old parchment.

I got my first tattoo at 25; a small one, just to test my pain tolerance. Tattoos are addictive in the sense that once you realize you can live through them, you want more. I got my next one at 28; my last one at 30.

I'm overdue now and I've had a list building up. The next one I want is a copy of my partner's first armband they designed themselves. We decided it would become our family symbol, since we both like it and we've been together long enough that my fears of committment can now be inked away.

After that my arms feel empty, and I have various ideas for how to fill them. Then my back still has some space. My legs and calves in particular...

And then one day a tiny sliver over or near my heart - as close as a family history of cardiovascular disease can allow - that symbolizes a crack in my skin, a sort of visible chink in my armor.

For this tattoo I'd allow a splash of color; the inner vibrancy I hold tightly seeping outwards onto the surface of myself. What color I'm not sure; red is always a bold choice, yet it tends to bleed heavy. Yellow or white might look more lightened. Heck I could go rainbow and add fuel to my lover's debate on my actual sexuality. Or maybe a bright blue or natural green.

Whatever I end up with, my skin aches to be painted. With the shelter-in-place restrictions nearly lifted in our area I'm waiting to schedule an appointment as soon as safely possible. Granted my lover has a strong say in when that happens, especially as I must beg them for their design, but once it's done I will feel that happiness that only comes with a fresh new brand and the scent of copper.

Baby, you don't pick up my call,

Leave my text on seen, why my baby doll?

Are you busy?

Are you with that girl?

Maybe you went with her to Disney.

I know the girl next door is pretty.

Did you go with her on a tour of the city?

Why do you decline

my face time?

Did you go, with her to the mall?

It is bothering me a lot.

Or you're taken by her beauty.

Maybe went on a movie,

And sushi

Or chilling in the Jacuzzi.

Baby, you don't pick up my call,

Leave me on seen why my baby doll?

Or maybe you're in a struggle

What if you're stuck in a jungle?

Or maybe you're kidnapped

What if you're attacked?

Baby, what if they slapped

your cute, soft cheeks.

What if you're trapped

In an elevator, building, or even your house

What if aliens invaded?

Maybe they kidnapped you and took to their planet.

Baby, just pick up my call,

never leave my text on seen baby doll.

Sippin', smokin', privately-

no filter needed here-

holding hands with liberty,

resplendent in our queer.

Judgements paused, no snide remarks-

defenses are relaxed-

shielded from the hate that lurks,

beyond the curtained glass,

guarding freedom, happiness,

and covenants of love

'gainst rainbow letters that address

inequities~~~~~ENOUGH!