#something about being stuck in a council of iterations who will hurt you for their own good

[felixcosm]

Innocent Hunter deserved so much better

[ddaenggtan]

jungkook

j | write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

You didn’t pick and I’ve been sitting on this for a while sO y’all get to know how From Eden was supposed to end before I wussed out and decided Nah Romance Y’all! I’m putting it at the end, though, because this is long enough as it is!

u | share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

ryn i know u sent this and i hate you for making me pick anyone at all for anything sO YOU’RE RUDE, BLOCKED AND REPORTED, I’M MAKING YOU ONE OF THEM AND I HOPE IT GETS CHUMMY FOR YA

@fortunexkookie - ryn is easily one of my favorite writers, because everything they write is very real. like. each mc is relatable in their own way, they’re all very human and flawed and realistic, and i really love that. each of their iterations of the members are also very distinct, like their Falling Skies Jungkook is very different from their The Turing Test Jungkook, while still maintaining, I think, the things that make them them. Both Jungkooks are, at heart, very much like I imagine the real Jungkook to be, while still being distinct characters. If you dropped them both into a room, they’d have their own personalities and quirks and traits, but they’d still be JK. And the way Ryn does their world-building is simple and understated but it can’t be denied that it’s some of the most beautiful worldbuilding I’ve seen. And we’re not going to start on the prose part of their writing, because I will legitimately never stop talking about the way Ryn consistently puts in lines that just. Echo. In your brain. Like. It flows and it emotes and it’s perfect for the scenes, but then they just hit you with these specific parts that just stay in your heart for so long that they grow roots. I’m never not going to be in love with Ryn’s writing. 

@junqkook - Yara is an ICON. Like. HOW she read something I wrote and thought it was good I still don’t know because I legitimately am floored every single time I read something by her. I’m pretty sure I’ve gone through her masterlist at least twice, and every single story is so unique and creative, even the ones that are inspired are published series, and I’m just. In awe. The characters she creates are always so varied and intriguing, and the worlds are so interesting and fascinating, and I am consistently envious of the way her work flows so smoothly and so naturally. It all has such a natural progression, the dialogue is genuine and real, and I’m just. I’m in awe. Literally in awe, I love it so much, and I can only hope that my shiny garbage can one day be like that. 

@gukyi - i don’t think we’re actually mutuals, because I could only wish for someone like Guyi to know I exist, and the only reason I’m keeping the tag is bc she deserves all of the love and praise. If you want good fics, especially if you’re not one for the smut, then you really need to be following Guyi because the worlds she creates in her fics are absolutely astounding. Her entire HP au series is absolutely phenomenal and creative and stands out from every single hp au I’ve EVER read, which is rare because while they all tend to be good, they also all tend to be very similar because there’s only so much you can usually do in a hp au, and I haven’t read a single fic from her that I didn’t love. Victorious? Iconic, the worldbuilding she did to add onto HTTYD was phenomenal, and she blew the childhood friends to enemies to lovers trope out of the park. Her horror fics are some of the only ones I’ve read because they’re just that good. THE WEDDING PLANNERS? Truly iconic. I honestly WISH I could write like Guyi. 

n - answered here

g | do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I’m a dumb bitch, so I have to write my story from start to finish. I tend to ramble in my notes about various scenes I want to include, and maybe some random notes about the relationship or their personalities, but like. 

o - answered here 

k | what’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

That’s gOTTA be Forever Rain, like. I’m not usually an angst person, so I’m not super good at coming up with angst prompts, but Forever Rain is EASILY the most angsty thing I’ve ever come up with. I’m getting sad just writing it, like. 

From Eden Alternate Ending

The aftermath of the fight with Demeter changes everything. Hoseok and Hades don’t see Yoongi before he gets dragged back to Olympus, which shouldn’t be possible in the first place, but Zeus has always tended to side with anyone who wasn’t the Queen of the Dead. No one is even sure Yoongi’s alright until Hermes comes down to tell them about Zeus’ decision, and Hoseok is pretty sure he’s never seen Hades angrier than that night. They haven’t spoken since, not really; he knows that she visits him when she thinks he’s asleep, knows that she runs her hands carefully through the air above his fractured wing even as she has to work to stitch her own body back together out of shadows and the memory of what hope felt like. The guilt shoves from her in waves, until it cloys in his throat and drowns out his own. Hades is focused on her own pain; how she should never have gone to Zeus, never have sought out what Yoongi was so afraid of, never trusted that Hoseok would be able to stay with him when Yoongi could convince anyone of anything. She doesn’t talk to anyone, doesn’t do anything but the work expected of her; the dead are piling up, slower than during Demeter’s rampage in the mortal world, but without Hoseok there to pass judgement, the Council is forced to, and they take far longer than he ever did, and she doesn’t know what she’s going to do because he was hurt because of her. 

Hoseok, meanwhile, is on bedrest, forced to spread his wings over several chairs so that they stay put, so the bones don’t break further and they set correctly. He’s a god - one of the oldest gods - but Demeter knew what she was doing when she twisted his wings beneath her and laughed as they cracked. In this story, Hades does not talk to him softly as he heals; she’s too afraid to see the accusation in his eyes, the blame that does not exist. She doesn’t tell him that she thinks its her fault, so he isn’t able to convince her otherwise. He doesn’t shed any tears with her in the darkness, she doesn’t hear his whispered confession that he blames himself because if he’d stayed...if he hadn’t flown off to try to protect his queen then maybe, just maybe, Yoongi would still be there. He’d still be safe. She doesn’t wipe his tears with her thumb, she doesn’t press a gentle kiss to his cheek after asking for his forgiveness, he doesn’t slide his lips across her knuckles and tell her there’s nothing to forgive. Instead there’s only Hoseok, stuck in a room and in pain, wondering if he’s condemned Yoongi to death because he couldn’t follow orders. 

In this universe, Hades is too afraid to send warnings to Olympus about what might happen to the dead if Yoongi returns hurt or upset. She doesn’t want to meddle more, doesn’t want to cause more damage to the flower god that she loves so much, doesn’t want to watch him crumple like the blossoms around her pomegranate tree. Can’t bear to think about where the golden drops that decorate the ground there came from, but can’t bear to have it covered, either. It’s a reminder, of just what happens when she gets too close. Of what happens when she lets herself forget that she carries Death on her fingertips and Tragedy in her footprints. 

In this universe, when Yoongi returns, he isn’t waiting in her room to tell her that he loves her and Hoseok. He doesn’t hold her, doesn’t show her how much he missed her in those months. In this universe he comes back quiet and solitary. He doesn’t visit Hoseok at the gates anymore. Yoongi can’t bear the reminder of the pain he caused. This time, Yoongi stays in his room. He visits the tree and his flowers, tends to them until the remnants of his blood are visible no more and the only reminder of that night is the taste of pomegranate on his tongue. He doesn’t visit Hades, doesn’t make jokes with Hoseok, and neither of them seek him out, too ashamed or guilty or grief-stricken to be faced with the hope he holds in his very skin. None of them can bear it, so none of them do. 

Hades stops wandering the Meadow. She doesn’t visit the gates, either, ignores the whines of Cerberus when he misses her, refuses to pass anywhere near the courtyard where the tree sits, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of color that she’s grown to hate. The smell of pomegranate surrounds her, as it always has, but it turns her stomach now more than ever. She cries more often than before, and no one notices. 

Hoseok doesn’t let the Council take over again. There’s a backlog of spirits, that’s the excuse he sticks to, and there’s too much work to be done. He pets Cerberus when the dog whines, letting all three heads lick wounds in him that no one can see, and he pretends that it’s okay. He doesn’t look at the flower crown hanging on the peg nearby, pretends it’s not there and that it’s as faded and withered as the ones behind it. His judgments become harsher, less forgiving than they were, and people stop asking for them. He stands with the dog at his back and the anger on his face and pretends like he’s healed. He doesn’t acknowledge that more broke that night than just his wing. Or that it never really healed. 

Yoongi doesn’t speak. He’s silent and steady in the darkness, hands moving on instinct. He misses Cerb, misses the way he would cajole Hoseok into judging more souls, misses the way Hades would smile as she worked on the flowers. But he knows better, now. His mother spent six months reminding just what would happen if he ran again, what would happen if he let himself think he was safe again. He has nothing else to do so he thinks, about what he should’ve done. How he shouldn’t have convinced Hoseok to leave, how he shouldn’t have been in the Meadow, how he shouldn’t have asked about the pomegranates, how he shouldn’t have gotten attached when he knew she wouldn’t let him stay. How he shouldn’t have run. The pile of flower crowns beside him grows with every day, and they mock him with their refusal to wither. They stay, bright and full and hopeful, a light in the dark of his room that refuses to go out. When he leaves to go back to his mother, he doesn’t take them with him.