BunBun!!

Will post random writings and drabbles here,,,nothing more

[abunnywhowrites]

JunMei but what if Jun Wu had Luo Binghe’s Heavenly Demon Blood?

Small warnings for blood, (obviously), mentions of vomiting, Jun Wu being cruel, and violence

Rated M, but the ending leads into something more explicit (it cuts off before anything too erotic happens)

It was foolish, truly foolish to believe that his feet could carry him fast enough. He couldn’t hear Jun Wu, he couldn’t feel his hands upon his wrists, but the sensation of him only being steps behind him was weighing on Mei NianQing. Weighing upon his body so heavily he felt himself begin to slow down.

He stopped for a moment, leaning against an abandoned home on the outskirts of XianLe. The wood had long since rotted and been forgotten. Now, it was used as something for Mei NianQing to lean against to catch his breath.

Truly a mistake that cost him his life.

One moment, he was catching his breath. Believing himself to be safe enough to relax. The next, he was slammed into a wall that was far more firm than the rotten wood looked.

Mei NianQing shouted out in pain but what little it did. The man gripping the back of his head, the man who yanked at his hair, the man that spoke with far more hatred than empathy in his voice was none other than the man he was running from: Jun Wu.

“How far must I chase you till you realize it’s all in vain?” Jun Wu pushed Mei NianQing’s face deeper into the grain of the wooden wall. Practically making him taste the history that was engraved into each scratch of the home.

Mei NianQing tried to speak yet his jaw was in far too much pain to move. He knew it was bound to bruise tomorrow if he lived after tonight. Yet, with how it seemed, there was no telling what was to become of him.

“How have you not become exhausted by this game we play,” Jun Wu continued. Moving his hand to grip Mei NianQing’s shoulder so he could turn him around and slam him against the wall. Moving in closer to smother him. To suffocate him like a hand around his neck.

“How long must this go on, head priest? Do you even go by such a title anymore, or have you been stripped of that name after running away from yet another kingdom. Yet another crown prince.”

Mei NianQing didn’t dare speak. His jaw still ached. His mouth still shook. Even his entire body trembled beneath the grip of the god before him. Yet, he knew that whatever he might say would be thrown back at him with even more bitterness than before.

“If a shackle won’t aid in me keeping track of you, surely another method will.”

Mei NianQing watched as Jun Wu raised his hand, far too many times had he felt the arm around his neck. Far too many times had he felt his breath taken from him. Seeing the hand raise up once more, only then had he begun to thrash and move. Trying once more to escape which only made the hand upon his shoulder tighten even more. So close to drawing blood or tearing a muscle.

Jun Wu didn’t say anything, nothing needed to be said as he could see the visible fear in Mei NianQing’s eyes. In how he moved and looked around for any chance of escaping.

He raised his hand to his sharpened jade armor, Jun Wu’s other hand was far too occupied in keeping Mei NianQing contained to draw a sword. For now, he sliced his hand across the dragon head that sat upon his shoulder. Scarlet bleeding into the beautifully crafted armor. Such a color stood out, dripping into his robes and somehow looking ethereal even then.

The sight of blood dripping from Jun Wu’s hand made Mei NianQing stop for a moment. His erratic movement paused for a moment as he and Jun Wu both watched the crimson liquid drip onto the ground. A sight of a god bleeding, the sight of a god harming himself. Such a thing wasn’t even written in tales by believers who hated the gods.

Jun Wu didn’t say a thing. If Mei NianQing dared to make a comment, he would have gripped his neck just to silence him like he always did. If he dared to laugh, he would have ripped his tongue out. If he had dared to weep, he would have laughed at his poor attempt to pity him.

For a moment, it felt peaceful between the two. Jun Wu didn’t move and Mei NianQing didn’t fight back. It was as if they were young and inexperienced once more. When they both went under different names and Jun Wu hadn’t despised the world yet. When Mei NianQing wasn’t a coward before the man he devoted himself to since his youth.

Yet, such peace didn’t last long when Jun Wu was around.

With Mei NianQing’s mouth slightly hung open from exerting himself, Jun Wu took it as his chance to force him to taste his blood. Pressing the palm of his hand against his lips as if he was feeding him fruit from the vine and not essence from his veins.

It was disgusting. The taste was far too rich and the fact it was being forced into his mouth didn’t help Mei NianQing’s pleasure in it. He kicked and hit Jun Wu’s arms but found it to be in vain as the armor only ended up protecting Jun Wu and hurting him instead.

“You might be the first to experience the taste of a god and yet you thrash around as if it tastes like rotten meat in your mouth. Even now, I disgust you? Even now, you are repulsed by me?”

Jun Wu forced Mei NianQing to taste more of him. He noticed Mei NianQing had become paler and paler, his eyes had become clouded, he was bound to pass out from lack of oxygen soon. Only when he saw Mei NianQing’s knees begin to weaken did Jun Wu take his hand away. Knowing he had digested enough blood to control a whole army.

Mei NianQing fell forward into Jun Wu as he coughed up as much blood as he could. His throat tightened and even an excess of saliva came as he felt the sensation of puking consume him more and more. He pushed himself back so he could have space to vomit but Jun Wu grabbed at his arms, not letting have privacy even from something he created.

Mei NianQing turned his head as he puked up nothing but stomach acid. The blood was already in his system, warming his veins and making his body weak. The hands of Jun Wu that gripped his arms made him far too aware and unaware at the same time. He couldn’t understand what was going on around him yet felt everything all at once.

“How overdramatic you are,” Jun Wu said, finally releasing Mei NianQing and letting him stand on his own. Yet, Mei NianQing’s legs buckled under his own weight, sending him falling to the ground. His hands landed in his own vomit, smearing into the grass.

Mei NianQing felt himself become warm, not as if he ran across the palace of XianLe in order to look for his disciple. This was a warmth he had sworn off long ago. One that crept into his dreams late at night when he was caught staring at the paintings of the Heavenly Emperor for too long. A heat that made him feel like a teenager in love with a young prince who he was to serve, but instead had such lustful dreams of.

He felt an ache creep into his body, not one of pain or discomfort, but one of desire. An ache between his legs that was all too obvious between the two of them at this moment.

“How quickly you become affected,” Jun Wu taunted. Walking beside Mei NianQing, circling him as if he was a bird wishing to pick up what scraps might be left behind. His robes trailed behind him, drug across the dirt yet somehow refusing to become soiled and muddied. Compared to Mei NianQing who was sweating and shaking, it was a stark difference that one might have laughed at.

“What have you done to me,” Mei NianQing asked. Finally speaking and finding his words to be brittle and cracked. His tone wavered and went silent in the few things he said, a pitiful display for a man who prided himself on dignity and respect.

Jun Wu didn’t answer. He chose to not answer. The question hung in the air between them. Becoming set in stone before the thought of it being answered even traveled through Jun Wu’s mind.

Instead of responding, Jun Wu chose to show him.

Mei NianQing found himself standing on his weakened legs, he hadn’t done it himself. A force he couldn’t see forced him upright. Forgetting the heat that was aching beneath him, he used his own strength that was left to cover the front of his robes.

“You act as though I didn’t already see it, that I didn’t purposefully send a rush of blood to that area.” Jun Wu grabbed Mei NianQing’s hands and moved them away. He stood before him, nearly standing on his feet as he was so close. Their breaths mingled with one another. The display looked almost serene if not for the events that lead to it.

“All of it, I wish to see all of it. I wish for you to tell me all of what you’re feeling. I wish…I wish for,” Jun Wu’s voice trailed off. Growing quieter the longer he stared at Mei NianQing’s face from so close up. So close that Jun Wu could see blemishes that he hadn’t seen from moments ago.

“What do I feel,” Mei NianQing responded, his voice soft just as Jun Wu’s was. Quiet and gentle, acting as though others were around to hear them. That someone was within the abandoned home Jun Wu had him leaning against.

“I feel…appalled at how sick you truly are. At how perverted and cruel you are. That is what I am feeling.”

Jun Wu’s gentle expression immediately turned into a frown. He pushed back at Mei NianQing and stepped back as if his skin was suddenly scalding hot. Mutters of ‘how unfortunate, how ungrateful’ fell from his lips.

“Am I to be joyous over what you have fed me?! Tell me, who would feel grateful at blood being forced down their throat? Not only is it unsanitary, unsafe, it is inhumane to do such—“

“Enough!”

As if commanded by a strange force once more, Mei NianQing’s mouth suddenly shut. His words dying out mid sentence as he touched his own lips. Trying to pry open what he had left to say.

“I prayed you had become more docile with your age but who am I to get what I wish for,” Jun Wu said, sighing as he rubbed at his temple. “If you can’t act docile, even with my blood coursing through your body, I will make you.”

He knew he wouldn’t get far, he knew it would only make matters worse, but Mei NianQing was desperate. As desperate as he always was. When his fingers were pressed into Jun Wu’s eyes, making the god cry out and pause in his own words—Mei NianQing took it as his chance to flee once more. To run as that’s all he had known.

Mei NianQing had gotten farther than expected. The realization he had put distance between him and Jun Wu had soon become apparent in his mind. Such a realization wasn’t good. It wasn’t relieving. It made Mei NianQing all the more terrified. Jun Wu had known where he was, he was simply toying with him.

As if reading his mind, Jun Wu grabbed Mei NianQing from what could only be explained as the shadows. His touch was more gentle than before, yet far more firm as if he didn’t want him to run away for the umpteenth time.

“Again with this game of running around, have I not already said I’ve grown tired of this,” Jun Wu said, yanking at Mei NianQing’s arm. “All this running, and you won’t get far. You could run across the mortal realm, end up in the demon realm, perhaps somehow find a way into the heavenly realm and hide within my palace, but I will still find you.”

Jun Wu’s hand came up from behind, his chin rested on Mei NianQing’s shoulder as he gazed up at him. One arm gripped his wrist while the other laid across his stomach. Fingers pressing into his skin through the layers of robes until Mei NianQing audibly let out a gasp of air.

“For as long as a piece of me is within you, festering and tainting the inside of your body, I will always find you. I will always know where you are. I will always catch you, no matter how far you run off.”

Mei NianQing couldn’t find the words to reply. As if what said was true, he felt the aching desire return once more. Far stronger than before. The sensation caused him to curl forward and bite his lip. Holding what was left of his dignity to not cry out.

“Your body opens up to me, why can’t your mind do the same?” Jun Wu presses a hand lower, trailing down yet daring not to touch what was between his legs. Teasing him despite everything he had done.

“You call me cruel, perverted, even sick within my mind. Let me show you how I’m all of these and far worse.”

[abunnywhowrites]

Im alive still,,,I really want to use this account more but I don’t know what to do with it other than just writing T__T

[abunnywhowrites]

“What’s to become of us now?”

“A mess. A tangled and never ending mess that will drive us both mad till one of us ends up killing the other.”

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

how it feels occasionally revisiting your old fandom you’re no longer a part of but all the good memories are still there. #nostalgia

[abunnywhowrites]

Genshin💔💔💔Impact💔💔💔💔💔

[i-will-write]

how i sleep knowing i write shitty fiction but at least don’t use chatgpt

[abunnywhowrites]

I wish my flow of writing was more natural. I usually write consistently for 5-6 days—adding maybe 8k+words during those days as I try to write at least 1k words each day when I’m full of ambition and ideas.

After that consistent flow comes to an end, I just can’t write at all,,,perhaps for two weeks even. I really need to find a better balance when it comes to writing, but I haven’t found something that works for me or my schedule yet.

I will admit it’s better than my state of writing from one year ago where I didn’t write anything at all. I was truly unmotivated all of last year so I suppose I shouldn’t complain about these spouts of inspiration that much.

[abunnywhowrites]

Jun Wu will forever be a character I won’t forget about. Not in the way he was revealed to be the villain all along. Not because he was described to be handsome—which I cannot deny, he is. Not even because he is,,,”daddy material.” Simply because the way he was portrayed, thought out, and created in a way that even after all these years of having him as my favorite character, I never can truly understand what he’s thinking.

To be born as a crown prince to a rising nation, seen as a beacon of sunlight before your body stops growing. To be seen as an outstanding god when you ascended not even a decade ago. Such demands from a young age, yet he allowed it all to happen. To feel wanted. To feel loved even if it was for the commoners own selfish desires of protection and pride. To say their young prince was “greater than your god,” simply because he still had shoes to grow into. That he had robes that needed to be created once he grew to his actual height.

Who wouldn’t wish to save the common people? Who wouldn’t desire to keep your believers safe and secure? To be desired is to be known. Any ruler and sensible individual would want to keep those who believe in you happy and healthy. That is exactly why the crown prince strives to keep his kingdom so prosperous. So intact that many gods grow jealous over a young and growing god.

Yet, when such a young prince shares his anxieties of a believable future. That everything they strived for was to burn and become rubble in time to come. All because of a dream he had—violence is the first thought to come to a mortal's mind. Killing and conquering neighboring nations all for the goodness of “saving them” was the common people’s goal at safety. Even after the crown prince rejected such an idea, they sought out to solve it themselves. Killing the neighboring nations and beginning a tension of war/conflict.

Even after rejecting such a violent resolution, what was the crown prince to do? A slap on the wrist didn’t work. Saying ‘no’ didn’t even make them glance back at him. Surely, punishing those various soldiers will. Yet, now he’s seen as cruel and unkind. His temples being burned for simply making his own people have consequences to their actions. About learning what it does to go against a god's words.

With the idea of war being forgotten, desperation was at an all time high for the crown prince. The idea of making a bridge for his people to cross into the heavens safely was never heard of. His people cheered while the gods sneered. Even so, he put all his work into it. Still holding onto that bit of hope and optimism that the common people, his common people deserved to be saved.

Yet, while giving it his all, other things lacked. He wasn’t answering prayers. He wasn’t listening to his people, but other gods did. Using such a tactic against the young god. Now, he was weakening. It wasn’t the lack of faith or belief the mortals swore, it was all his fault. He showed no care anymore. So what if his fingers were battered and bones exhausted from slaving away at building a bridge? He wasn’t attending to their wishes so obviously he was no better than the other gods in heaven.

But, how selfish can people be when faced with fear? How easy is it to forget hating someone once they’re the last one to give you protection? When the volcano erupts, they remember their god. Only then do they remember their crown prince once death overwhelms their mind. Every man and woman for themselves. Egomania drove all of the kingdom's citizens to swarm the bridge. Damn the children. Damn your lovers. Damn the very act of caring for one another.

Does it end well? Of course not. We all know how that ended. When weakness breaks through. When doubt sets in. Who is to blame? Are we to blame each other for not standing together? Are we to blame for our own weakness and introversion? Coming together to admit we all lost our ways and should be more faithful next time? To forgive the young god we took for granted?

No. All of our blame should be placed on the said crown prince. He’s our ruler. He’s our god. He’s our beacon of sunlight. He was to be our protector. Surely, it was his fault. From the very beginning of harming his own mortal soldiers to letting so many of his people die, it’s truly all his fault.

Suddenly being painted a failure, a sorry excuse for a prince and a god. The kind words from years ago being forgotten and now replaced with hateful stares. When you don’t gain any wishes or attention, why should a person care about the god anymore? Why should they bear gifts and hospitality?

When desperation comes into the crown prince's mind once more, who cares about mortality anymore? When people damned him for being a failure, should he truly protect them? Should he stand by them anymore or should he save himself and his kingdom? Pacifying the earth with their blood.

It started with criminals. Truly, it shouldn’t have even begun there. In such a young mind that was slowly breaking away into madness, he believed he was doing a good thing. Murders, thieves, and other crimes committed by various mortals didn’t deserve a chance at life. Yet, when his own three vassals were thrown into the kiln as well, who was truly the evil in the end?

To go to such lengths. Yet, when shown selfishness all his life, the crown prince thinks for himself just this once. He knows he wasn’t thinking at all. Avenging his pride was all he desired at that moment.

Yet, when he goes mad with anger and fights back, he was never a young god growing into his boots. He was never a prideful immortal to boast about. A being that kills his own vassals and people. Driving away the last sensible person in his life in a fit of rage. All while the parasitic wounds on your face scream at you for your sins. What was he now? A young naive crown prince or a hellish abomination wearing a crown?

No one will remember such a disgrace if there is no one to remember. To kill all those in the heavens. Those who mocked and stole your believers finally having their blood spilt onto the white steps of the temples they hid in. Was it enough? Of course it wasn’t, he needed more.

Making a new name. A new story so that your actual past was forgotten in the volcanic fire that swallowed such history. Such a name and fake backstory was believable when you had the title of Heavenly Emperor to prove it. Was it enough? Once again, he needed more.

You would think such hate would be sated. Be satisfied. Perhaps diminished even. When you’ve held the world in your hands since a young age, it’s never enough. Smiles and small laughs that were forced can hide such bitterness for only so long.

When another young prince, practically ascending at the same age as him I’m sure of it, comes centuries later. Both born during the same celestial phase even, you would think such a thing wouldn’t be possible. That the young crown prince now crowned the heavenly emperor, now renamed as Jun Wu, would laugh at such a coincidence.

Yet, the same aspirations couldn’t be ignored. The same ambition, the same goodness in his young and naive heart. Wouldn’t such a sight bring back the young bitterness that was locked away?

Acting as a mentor was a start. A wondrous start and brought a new beginning and even hope for the young crown prince of XianLe. To be looked upon after by the emperor of the heavens. Surely anyone would be jealous of such favoritism. Yet, hidden implications under training matches and small conversations wouldn’t be noticed just yet.

Many laugh at the line that started it all. The seven word phrase that surely is childish when you look at it from a broad spectrum. Yet, to Jun Wu who truly tried his best to look grand. To make himself be seen as more than a bitter young god like he truly was, resentment turns deeply into rage.

For his body was in paradise. He was the top god in the heavens, respected by all. Feared by those who dared to oppose him. Truthfully, he was a beacon of light, was he not? Just as his first believers said, he was the sun of his kingdom. Now he was the sun of the heavens.

Yet, under the surface. Under jade armor that could blind a mortal's eyes. Under an understanding gaze that held wisdom far beyond his years. There was an abyss that was eating away at him. To be reminded of such a suffocating experience, an experience he only knew of. Why not make the man who said such a line experience it as well? To let him prove such a line through tests of agonizing pain and suffering.

During his time of being cruel to Xie Lian, perhaps far more than cruel, it was very unclear what could be his thought process. All he truly seemed to want was a successor. To break someone down to the point he could no longer be called a man. Someone like him. Someone to follow in his footsteps no matter the stakes. Doing all of this while acting like a god above the heavens while driving a sword through such a young crown prince under a different guise.

Truthfully, was he any better than his own believers from when he was a crown prince? No, he was worse. Far worse. Any respect or chance of being forgiven and remembered for such a tragic youth was forgotten the moment he forced such actions on another young prince like him. An innocent boy who truly didn’t deserve such a life.

Jun Wu’s youth was a tragedy. A terrible thing that truly shouldn’t have happened. Yet, to force such a life on another boy who didn’t deserve even an ounce of such cruelty. Your past self can’t save your current actions.

To still try and act like a good man despite the blood staining his nails. Practically sewn into his robes. One must think, how can one act in such a way? To think he deserves to be in the heavens knowing he should reside in hell. Yet, not even the demons in demon city would accept a man like him.

With his reveal finally being brought to light, he should have been slaughtered right there. Perhaps beaten till black and blue. Yet, for a grand figure to be a being worse than nearly all demons, nobody would dare move at first. Can you even blame them? Even in the final battle, multiple martial gods had to keep him at bay till Xie Lian had defeated him.

And when he’s defeated, many craved for Xie Lian to drive his sword through Jun Wu’s chest. To finally end all of his trauma from the past by killing the very man who was the start of it all. Yet, he doesn’t.

Such a thing angered so many readers. Claiming Jun Wu would truly be better off dead. At first glance, yes. Such an ending is what we expect from all types of media nowadays. The good guys win while the villains are killed in a street, bleeding out.

Yet, once long ago, wasn’t Xie Lian technically in that same position? He wasn’t a villain, he never was what Jun Wu is. Yet, he was laying out, bleeding in a street hating the world. Anger and resentment in his heart at the world. People stepping over him and barely glancing at him. Begging for one last chance to see goodness in the world. When he finally had enough, one person stopped and changed his mind completely. Truly one person was enough.

Xie Lian giving Jun Wu his bamboo wasn’t an act of forgiveness. Xie Lian doesn’t deserve giving Jun Wu any forgiveness. The gift of a simple bamboo hat was a step in a direction. A direction that was Jun Wu’s choice to make now. He was hated by nearly everyone. All three realms knew of his crimes and what he was. Even so, was he still going to make an attempt at changing himself despite it all?

After destroying two nations. Ruining the life of a young god. Losing respect he had from people around him twice in his life now, was he to accept that he was cruel? Was he to accept he was a monster? We all say yes and I agree as well, yet it’s his decision if he wants to keep being such a terrible man. The road to recovery is long, but it will be even longer if one doesn’t start taking steps on such a path.

For a young and ambitious prince to become a cruel and evil outcast at the end of his life. At an outside glance, why did a man become this way? What drove a man to such lengths of massacre and destruction? I can swear to you it was the act of him simply not holding out in that goodness in his heart like Xie Lian did. In the end though, no one can be as good as Xie Lian. There will never be someone as kind-hearted as him, which truly was the reason he and Jun Wu never was and never will be the same.

I want to add a second reason as to why. Yet, I fear I will sound childish saying it. Perhaps even like Jun Wu himself. I will swear the common people may be at blame as well.

Jun Wu’s later actions were his own. Yet, the start of it all resided in such high expectations of people he wanted to have believing in him. If they didn’t have faith, what was he? Even after trying his best to save them, he was a sorry excuse for a god. If he didn’t try to save them, he was still a sorry excuse for a god. Was there any way to win the approval of so many people? Truthfully, no. We can’t satisfy everyone. Yet, when young and inexperienced, all one can desire is for others to see them in a good light.

Even after breaking his back to save them, it was never enough. Selfish desires and expectations began Jun Wu’s descent into madness. He simply furthered it until he saw only anger at the mere mention of the common people. That truly, there was no reason and gain in saving the common people.

With such ideations, no one was good. Everyone had faults and was guilty of something in his mind. Whether gods or people, no one was a saint. Jun Wu being the worst of them all and standing above all at the same time.

Even after all of the tragedy in his youth, Jun Wu doesn’t deserve to be held. Jun Wu doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Jun Wu doesn’t deserve to be cradled gently. Jun Wu doesn’t deserve anything and yet all he desired was for someone to do those various things. How one’s self-sabotage can go so far to ruin the very thing he wanted. How his strive for someone to be just like him made him so different from anyone.

When he was young, all he needed was someone to say, “he’s doing alright.” Now that he’s old, he needs to be told to “rest.” Will he listen this time? Time will only tell.

Why I even love him as a character is odd. I hate him. I loathe what he has done. He aggravates me. He confuses me. I want him to be at peace. I want to rip his chest open and watch the blood spill out. I want to heal his wounds. I wish he was given more than just imprisonment. A harsher beating wouldn’t suffice. Yet, all of these things are why I love characters. The very reason why I even write about these characters—Jun Wu being the one I have written about the most when creating fanworks.

If a character's true intentions are confusing and hard to understand, I like to read about them. Delve into their mind and see what makes that character unique. Different. What makes that character their name?

The very fact Jun Wu’s name isn’t his real name is what intrigues me. The very fact he wants people to follow his ways and words, but still making it seem like they have the choice to do so is captivating to me. To act so grand and godly when in reality, someone pointing out a single flaw within his beautiful persona of a heavenly emperor drives him to ruin the lives of a singular boy. Childish, isn’t he?

To this day, Jun Wu confuses me. What his true personality is, perhaps he has forgotten it long ago. Is he truly a kind and understanding ruler? A cruel and mocking calamity? A bitter and jealous man when shown that others get what he has always desired? Maybe he’s all three. Maybe he’s none. All I know is Jun Wu will forever be in the back of my mind no matter how old I become. Simply because, I don’t think I’ll find another character like him ever again.

I over talked once more. I rambled on for far too long. Yet, I don’t mind. Perhaps this made me understand his character more. Perhaps I will loathe him completely one day. Maybe I’ll love him more than he could have ever loved himself. Yet, I doubt that day will ever come.

[podcastwizard]

i do NOT write for myself i write for the eleven year old girl walking circles on the playground making up stories in her head and muttering the dialogue out loud. i see you girl. that stick you found DOES look like a cool dagger.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Anyone and everyone CAN write. The world’s most skilled writer didn’t start off skilled. The key is that they practice hard by writing a lot.

As long as you write, you are practicing your craft and you are getting better at writing. But you will never get anywhere if you let AI write for you.

[abunnywhowrites]

Truthfully, it makes me sad to see so many young writers become discouraged simply because they see so much discourse over “writing badly.” Many always say “we all start somewhere,” and people will reblog, like, comment, and even retweet such a statement on other platforms.

Yet, when an actual young writer comes with a new fic or even explaining the plans for their new book. They even might have little to no experience and are maybe new to posting such things. They’re met with remarks such as “get better before posting,” or “practice more.” I even saw multiple people agreeing that “once you post something, you are subjected to other’s opinions.”

While I can agree to a degree, my proudest moments as a fanfiction author and even creatively writing was just by simply writing like no one was going to read my words. Staying up late and writing nonsense that my friends and I would laugh at the next day at our lunch table. When you’re thirteen, you don’t care about the world’s opinion. The only thing you’re worried about is if you have enough time to write a new chapter for your Hetalia wattpad fic when you finish your homework.

Such a claim may be true in a way, but unless asked in notes and even private DMs, I truly don’t think we should hatefully call out writings unless they’re AI generated. If I see a grammatical error, I know the person is human just like me and skip over it. Yet, so many people have become comfortable with screenshotting the passage and flaming the author online for an overlooked wording/sentence.

Maybe I’m far too sensitive and looking too much into this, but if I wanted my writing to be corrected and hated upon, I would go to my college professor that I hated in university. Perhaps even my mother who is a teacher herself. This idea that “once you publish something, you’re subjected to everyone’s opinions,” which once again is true, but so damaging in the long run if that is all the writer will think about.

The idea of a stranger on the internet freely criticizing a young writers’ work is what’s going to make the writing industry die away I feel. Once such a field is no longer as popular, people will complain more about the lack of fics/writing instead of the fact critics chased them away.

You can find serious and beautifully written works of fiction within every fandom. Why must we hate on those having fun and writing crack fics? Why must we hate on the jesters if he was made to laugh and entertain?

I’m rambling on as I always do, but I just ask people to be kind to young writers. They’re battling an algebra exam this Friday while giving you free content. A young college student stayed up writing that fic for you instead of studying for their final. The average adult gave you time out of their break at work to post a fic for you. I just ask people be kinder to those starting out in such a demanding field of “perfection” much like writing.