chicken has meat in it.

♡ note: i'm on so much cold medicine atm if these don't make any sense just pretend they do (not derogatory) (what a crazy word to type 75% asleep)

Thirdly, no community is above this, and very, VERY frankly, we should normalize shaming. Nothing extreme, no — no doxxing, none of that Twitter behavior, but shaming to the point that these users cannot live here anymore. A blacklist of sorts, if you will, but with SOLID evidence. And I'm not talking about those who used it once in blind ignorance in 2024 (please see the "Jisung the fic writer" post for nuance because the screenshot below will make perfect sense to you then).

I'm talking about chronic scammers who are ADAMANT on tricking you into believing that they are legitimate writers in 2k26 when they are ABSOLUTELY NOT. And they're only doing this because they think you're gullible enough to believe them (like users l**, s**, and i**). The only reason they are here is to farm clout from you, and if they can't get your validation anymore, guess what'll happen.

As I always say, support is currency, and you shouldn't recklessly spend it on whomever. Do your due diligence before blindly hyping someone, and don't be a part of the problem is all I'm saying (see the rest of the Regina posts in my library for a few pointers).

The people who "like" the way ai sounds are unfortunately NOT avid readers, nor do they have developed critical thinking/reading skills. I genuinely don't believe they have read much literary work outside of fanfiction. If they have, they would know how to recognize an author's voice. This should make us all bawl for how tragic this is. Both the sloppers and their minions are giving me Sh1r1lla vibes in the entitlement department with how ignorant they are of the big picture and how they can't give two shits about it as long as they get what they want a.k.a serial posting in exchange for your mindless worship of them. The "LMAO you're pushing 30" ladies they're making fun of are the last remaining species of critical readers/legitimate creators here.

And this is why these people think they've stumbled upon a miracle, and can't discern that user a and user b have the EXACT same writing "style" (they fucking don't and physically CAN'T girlie, please get off tiktok and pick up an actual book).

Ai slop is a body moving without the brain. If you got an eerie feeling while reading it, that's what it is.

If you had trouble reading the above screenshot on the grounds of "I can't concentrate...", then you're part of the problem because this is what ai EXACTLY optimizes for in fiction: simple as FUCK language, NO vocabulary that will make you open a dictionary, and in the case of romance, over-the-top metaphors. Please see the Regina section in my library if you're not familiar with it.

And currently your most popular "sloppers" are feeding you products of exactly this.

Along with

lines

that look like this

for no apparent reason

at all.

And then? (this is important)

You're going to be mindblown.

Because you've never seen anything like this before.

On account of never having picked up a book in your life.

Ai works on pattern recognition; NOT intelligent worldbuilding or fancy language. And it learned that recognition from millions of human-penned words. This is the part that should alarm you, and if you're on the "whatever" camp for the sake of having goon material, FUCK YOU and you're not welcome here. Leave immediately.

The ai "works" and "authors" you worship wouldn't even exist in the first place if it weren't for the scraping of AO3, where MILLIONS OF FAN-GENERATED CONTENT LIVES!!!

And finally (not)...

When I first joined here in the early 2020s, "Is this fucking ai?" wasn't even the kind of suspicion we could have in our wildest dreams. Our biggest enemy was plagiarism and reposting. Everyone who was in the fanfiction circle on any platform WITHOUT A DOUBT created their own work (except for clout reposters on Wattpad etc.). Everyone and their mother knew that these people WROTE, and we got mad respect for all writers simply because of the fact that they created. The respect quadr-quint-infinityupled if they were getting thousands of notes because then it was a SOLID indicator of how well their work was received. It was street cred on Tumblr, much like a hit count/number of kudos on AO3. We looked up to these writers so much, and we could only wish we could be like them someday. Ask ANY stayblr veteran (been here AT LEAST since 2023) who ballelino was — that was the "level" we wrongfully tried to reach.

(Wrong in the sense that someone's "success" levels shouldn't be what you strive to achieve because any (LEGITIMATE!!!!!!!!!!) author you're comparing yourself to is VERY unique, and it's not a good frame of reference just because you're both writing for skz. they're them, and you are you!)

The rule of thumb I kindly suggest for anyone that has faith in me is to be critical of ANY author who wasn't here pre-December 2023. It's after that point in time I personally started seeing Regina-generated work, thus the specific timeframe.

Nevertheless, nowadays I see something with 4-digit notes and no meaningful interaction (meaning they mostly got likes and blank reblogs and/or the reblog-to-like ratio is extremely disproportionate, e.g. 100 vs 3500), and regardless of if it's true or not, I immediately assume it's an ai user. That's not the only criterion I base my assumption on, of course. When did they first publish their first fic, and have they EVER complained about the lack of meaningful interaction? Because these people weirdly never talk about it, and to me, the eerie silence is indicative that they haven't been in the fanfiction circles long enough to know what normal author-reader interactions were like on Tumblr. It tells me they were most likely immigrants themselves, which is why they're super cool with all the silent reading. "Like blog like reader", if you will.

Otherwise, I assure you, the discouragement would set in FAST because this has been a bleeding scar for years.

It's the very same thing they are ruining, actually. We keep telling people Tumblr is not Instagram, yet these bitches are like "This makes you look weird and I'm not cool with that. Be grateful for the likes."

Yeah... Nah...

Well, I'm not cool with you because you're the one who appeared in my garden out of nowhere and took a shit on it, and now you're telling people it's okay to do that?

IT'S FUCKING NOT!!!!

It takes a whole fucking lot to be an engineer in any field. You can't just walk into a construction site and offer your "consultation services" based on what you scraped from GPT. It will make you look dumb as fuck next to people who poured YEARS into training to be an engineer.

Why is writing treated any differently?

Writing isn't supposed to be easy. It's not some rote task you're meant to automate. It's a work of passion, and "writer" isn't a title everyone should feel so free to call themselves. Much like how they shouldn't call themselves an engineer just because they have an "idea" of what it's supposed to be.

The residents of the building may be blissfully unaware, but the engineers you claim to be peers with can tell you have no idea what you're doing because it's so comically obvious that the blueprint is bullshit. A building in the shape of an inverted triangle? With no foundation? Not taking into account the immense weight you'll put on the ground floor? The shape may look unique and novel, but there is no real functionality behind it. Not to mention you'll kill hundreds of people when the building inevitably collapses.

Only a chatbot could come up with that nonsensical crap. Full aEsThETiCs backed up with zero sound knowledge.

But here's the thing: even if you feel like you don't have the skills, it's BUILDABLE! You don't need to go through an entire writing program; you just need to KEEP WRITING. I certainly didn't feel like I was one in May of 2021, but I put in the work. I kept writing even if it was cringe. 5 years later I'm proud to call myself a writer because damn I paid my dues. And fuck no, I'm not gonna share this title with people who just type in prompts into whatever generator. You're not a writer, and unless you put in the work, you never will be one.

YOU NEVER WILL BE ONE.

Which is also why I deliberately disregard some rules of writing just so you know it's a human who wrote it. Because this is the climate we live in now, and otherwise I won't be able to stand out to you.

All that is to say, write "horribly" but write. Don't think ai can execute your ideas better than you because it can't. NO SUGGESTION presented to you is bespoke to YOU; you're gonna end up sounding like every other bitch who purposefully tries to deceive people on this platform.

Write "horribly" but fucking write. Trust me, you will have the admiration of A LOT OF people just because you're doing it yourself, because god knows EVERYONE'S trying to take the shortcut to be the shining star in readers' eyes.

Don't shine now, it's okay.

part two

Hyunjin is everything you told yourself you’d never get. Everything you watch humans bask in from your fire escape. “More incense?” The heavy metal of your loft door clinks shut behind him. He slips his shoes off, no jacket, he’s never cold. 

“Mm, this one is cleansing.” You slip into sight, a cloud of sage wafting after you. You have coal burning in every corner. Always in every corner. “I thought you’d gotten used to it?”

His feet slide lazily over the dingy marble floor, hands already reaching for you. You slip into his hold, palms planted on his chest, the cold metal of his necklace bites into your skin. Familiar. 

“I am. Just wondering where you get all this stuff.” You smile and he kisses it, then the corner of your mouth, your nose, then your lips again. 

“I’m a very loyal customer.” Hyunjin hums, burying his face in your neck when you hug him. He takes a breath, deep and slow. You smell like myrrh and lavender. Your fingers card through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. The silver strands slip through your fingers like silk.

“Very loyal.” He murmurs, lips brushing over your pulse. “What were you doing?”

You try to pull back and he pulls you closer, fingers pressing into your waist. You laugh, just a huff of breath. “I was cleaning up.”

“You’re always cleaning.” 

“And you’re always needy.” He feigns offense, pulling back to look you in your eyes. “You are.”

“Am not.” There’s no bite to his argument. He lets you go reluctantly, lacing his fingers through yours while you step away. “Take a break with me.”

You scoff, taking your hand away to fix the scarf on your head. He watches you, eyes tracing the earth tone pattern down your back. It’s heavy with tresses he’s never seen. “A break means—”

He cuts you off, “It means you sit here,” He plops down onto your sofa. “And let me distract you.” You’re pulled down into him before you can protest, a breathy laugh clashes with his. Your thighs clumsily frame his. 

He’s kissing you before you can properly complain. Tongue ghosting over the seam of your lips, asking you to part them just for him. You’ve never had this with anyone else but him. His hands wander, wide palms flat against the plush dip of your hips, then up over your arms. 

“See?” He mumbles, kissing the corner of your mouth and peppering over your jaw. “You’re good at taking breaks.” You melt into him. Into his touch, the brush of his lips kissing over freckles he’s named over the year that you’ve tangled yourselves into each other. 

Your fingers splay over his shoulders, slide down to his chest. Your nails bite into his skin through the fabric, and the cold of his chain bites into your palm. Again. You hum a sound, half moan and half curious.

“Do you always wear this necklace?” You mutter, mindless words slipping the filter in your hazy head. Hyunjin’s movement falters, just for a second, one quick but loud second. 

“Mmhm.” His teeth graze your shoulder then kiss the pressure away. He sits back, looks up at you. “Why does my necklace matter right now?” He smiles, so you do too.

“It doesn’t.” But you still glance at it—dark plain stone on a thin frayed cord. Nothing remarkable. “Just never noticed it.” 

Hyunjin taps a crooked finger under your chin, his gaze holds yours and you forget all about the silver chain. “Maybe you’re too focused on me.” His smile numbs the buzz of thought in an instant. 

“Maybe.” You kiss him this time, slow and deep, fingers slipping into the silver strands tickling his shoulders. Hyunjin smiles into it, hands cupping your cheeks like holding you in place could get him more of you. 

Sage wafts from your left, your right, one of your coals has burned out by the window. You feel it, like someone left a door open. You pull back, “I have to—” Hyunjin shushes you with another kiss. You pull back again, smiling, “My coal went out.”

“Let it.” The couch dips, he sits up, shifting you in his lap. “The coal isn’t kissing you.”

His lips press into the sweet spot beneath your ear, you tilt your head for him before you can think otherwise. His tongue presses firm against your skin, the wet drag sates your worry. You moan, melt into him, chest to chest, breath fast with—

“Ah!” You pull back with a hiss, Hyunjin curses heavy under his breath. “What the hell…” something burned you, a quick and deep shock of heat. You lay a hand to the center of your chest, over your amulet, small and tucked into your collar. 

“That must’ve been mine.” He mutters, moving to tuck the silver pendant into his collar and—you pause.

“Wasn’t that just stone?” It’s no more than a whisper, but Hyunjin pauses like you screamed it. “Your necklace was stone, your chain—”

He cuts in, “What does it look like to you?” He’s serious now. Breath still heavy, heart racing for reasons he doesn’t want to have to admit. “Do you see stone?”

“I—I did, but now…” You look down at it, silver with glimmering azurite in the center. “Now I don’t.” You reach for it, squinting at the symbol carved over shimmering stone when Hyunjin tucks it away.

Your eyes snap to his, “It’s always been silver.” His tone is flat but his eyes, his eyes shine like the stone. They pull, numb the confusion. You find yourself leaning in again, like a sailor to a siren. “Okay?”

“Mm…” You feel the heat of him, his breath on your lips—but you look down again, towards the necklace, and he notices. 

“Focus.” You can’t. You can’t shake the sight of the amulet, stone then silver, dark then shimmering blue. Another coal ashes in the far corner, your mind buzzes, it’s like a draft is clearing the fog. Adding feeling where numbness has settled. Hyunjin kisses you.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck, your scarf slips back an inch. 

“Hyunjin.” You murmur, pushing back—he doesn’t let you. He kisses you harder, deeper, it melts you. It melts you but it feels wrong. He moves you, fast enough to blur what you’re thinking into ink stains behind your eyes. He lays you down, presses one palm to the arm of your sofa and a forearm into the pillow by your head. his knee settles between your thighs and you bare down mindlessly. Mindlessly. 

The necklace was stone. It was. You see it behind your eyes. Plain stone on worn cord. Cold and simple. 

Hyunjin’s lips wander one way while your mind goes the other. You can’t unsee it. You move with him, grind down over the clothed firm muscle of his thigh and dig your nails in where his forearm flexes just the way you like. But you can’t unsee it. 

So, you open your eyes. Hyunjin feels it, he pulls back, looks at you, and you see it again. 

Silver, intricately framing a shimmering blue. There’s a symbol carved into it, worn down as if it’s made into the stone. You’ve seen it before. An olive tree. You’ve seen it in—your blood runs cold. 

Another coal ashes across the room. 

“Is that an olive tree...” Your voice is smaller than you mean it to be. Hyunjin hears you, you know he did because he froze. “Get off of me.”

He doesn’t. His eyes flick to your terrified ones, panic seeping in. “I need you to listen to me.” He’s gentle, like he’s talking to a scared kitten and not a divine enemy. “Just give me a second to—”

“Get the hell off of me.” You push him, forearm to his chest and legs kicking into the cushion. He moves before you fight too hard, before you can feel anymore trapped than you already do. 

You stumble three steps back, chest heaving. “Listen to me, I can explain.” Hyunjin’s knees are still pressing into your sofa, his hand balled into a fist against a pillow. 

“It was stone. It was nothing and now you have Athena’s amulet hanging from your fucking neck.” The words tumble out, you take another step back and nearly trip over the carpet. Hyunjin’s eyes close at the mention of the goddess, the one you’ve grown up trying to avoid. 

The air feels sharp in your lungs, too cold.

“I was going to tell you, I just… I don’t want it to go like this, can you please sit.” For the first time since you met him guilt shaded his irises. It pulls you, but not hard enough.

”Why are you wearing Athena’s amulet?” You hold his gaze, you see the defeat. You see the moment he accepts the fate of it all. 

”It’s for the gods’ hunters.” Your pulse is roaring now, hands shaking. “They’re meant to conceal your true being. Create a mirage.”

You know that. You just hoped he’d lie, or come up with something that doesn’t crush you whole like he has now. 

“It does the same thing yours does.” Those words are the stinging confirmation you’d hoped you wouldn’t get. Your hand presses over the amulet tucked into your shirt.

”You know what I am.” He stares for a second, like he can will everything not to break with silence.

”I know who you are. Yeah.” His voice breaks on the last word. You look away, anywhere but at him. 

“And who are you?” You don’t want to ask. You don’t want to know. You want to scream at him, tell him to leave. Hit him for every day that he’s lied to your face.

Hyunjin stands from the sofa, slowly, like the air is too thick to move. “I’m a mistake.” You look at him, he’s grateful for it. “I’m what happens when the goddess of control and wisdom abandons what makes her powerful. I’m what happens when you trick power.”

Hyunjin holds out his arms, presenting himself to you. The late afternoon sun frames him in a moment of cold irony. “Son of Athena.” His arms fall to his sides. “A walking embarrassment.”

You stare at him, at the frown that bends the lips you’ve kissed nearly every night for the last year. At the silver hair that makes more sense than it needs to. “Your father is Hephaestus, then.” 

Hyunjin shakes his head, gaze finally falling to something that can’t see through him. “His attempt to have her failed. But a demon lord? They rarely fail.” 

”So you’re…”

”Half god. Half demon. Hated by both, accepted by no one.” 

You scoff, shaking your head “Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you.” His eyes find yours again, he sees the anger, the betrayal bright and brown. 

“That’s not what this is.” He steps towards you, slow, careful.

“When were you going to do it?” That question stops him cold. ”When were you going to kill me?” Your voice betrays you mid-sentence, breaking for a second before you force yourself back together.

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t you dare say that you weren’t going to.” Your feet against the cold marble punctuates your disdain. You step closer. “Don’t you dare tell me that your mother, that monster of a goddess, didn’t send you to kill me. Don’t you dare lie to me again, Hyunjin.”

You don’t know when you started yelling. You don’t know when you took another step, but you have. Your eyes burn, your mouth’s dry. Hyunjin swallows across from you, watching you.

”I was meant to bring Athena your head.” The sentence sounds wrong. Too mundane, too simple coming from his tongue. A tear slips from your eye and you let it. “Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

Hyunjin looks human. More than you could ever say he did before, more than you’re sure the mirage of the amulet is capable of. He looks horrified, gutted, ashamed. 

“What’s your plan, huh?” Your voice is strained, “You come and fuck me, wait for me to fall asleep in your arms so you can—“

“Stop.”

”No, you’re right, you’ve had every night this year to do it. It must be something more grand, right? What is it?” Hyunjin closes the space between you in two steps, you replace it in an instant. “Don’t”

“Do you really think that I stuck around for a year waiting to cut your fucking head off?” The question hung between you like the lie hung around his neck. “Yes, I was supposed to kill you. I still am. But you were supposed to be a monster. You were supposed to be this thing that—that I could look in the eyes and end. You were supposed to be Medusa's daughter.”

The name stains the air. You hold his gaze.

“I am.” It’s a weak admission.

“No, you’re you. You’re careful, and beautiful and sweet. You feed bumblebees and love jellybeans. You are not the monster my mother promised I would find.” You’re shaking, he sees it. It takes everything he has not to try and hold you. “I agreed to kill this ugly dangerous thing…and instead, I found you.” 

It's too much. It hits you, harsh and unforgiving—this man, the only one you’ve ever allowed to know you. The only one you’ve ever trusted enough to let past the sigils and powdered stones, is the monster that you’ve been hiding from. What you’ve checked for under your bed for years has been in it for months.

“No.” You shake your head, lips parting without sound, then shake your head again. “No, you don’t get to do that.”

“I didn’t—”

“You don’t get to give me a speech about the humanity you meant to take from me.” Hyunjin’s fists ball at his sides, you point a finger at him, he lets you. “You have come here every single day knowing that I’m going to die and you’re the one waiting to do it.” 

Tears fall freely now. Your throat burns.

“I was never going to do it, not after everything, not after staying.”

“I don’t believe you.” That breaks something in him. Something comes loose, you see it, you want to care. “Get out.”

He doesn’t move. “Can we please just talk…”

“You either get out or you kill me right now.” Your gazes meet, hold. “Either way, I can’t stand in front of you any longer.”

Hyunjin swallows, standing still for a beat too long before he raises his hands just barely, not even above the waist. Just enough to show you that he's got it, he surrenders. He takes a slow step forward, then another. You look past him. 

He doesn't touch you when he passes, doesn't brush against you, doesn't try to feel something he knows will cut him. He just goes. He slips on his shoes, pulls the heavy metal knob, fingers brushing the sigils marked dark into brick—then he steps out. 

He's gone, and you feel it in an instant. The house corrects itself. The walls feel the shake in your hands, the hesitation in your breath. The coals that had ashed reignite, hotter and brighter. The wards marked in dark ink by the door sink into the bricks. The salt along the wall pulls itself into a neat line. 

The wards listened to your instincts. And for a year, you were wrong. Now they know better.

Hours blur as you redraw sigils. There hasn’t been a second of respite since Hyunjin walked out. Not a second that you haven't thought about the fate you invited inside. You've broken your mortar and pestle, grinding stones until it was unusable. You've turned ashes into black salt and shut your blinds. 

It doesn't feel like enough. 

You'd cried long enough to collect your own tears in a vial full to the cork. You sat it on your altar and asked for clarity, for guidance. You asked Medusa, your mother, to show you the answers you couldn't find yourself. You let the candles burn themselves into thick pools of wax. You haven't moved since. 

Hours have hummed and echoed. The city breathes in pulses, but you are still. 

He lied. Lied to your face for a year, made love to you as if it was allowed. Your head is loud when it tells you that you've failed. Your heart whispers that you trusted, but it all feels the same.

Rest never comes, you sit on your bed hugging your knees to your chest. Your scarf is slipping off, and you let it. The hair underneath is coiled tight into ash gray locs. It's always felt too vulnerable to let them loose. You let the scarf fall, you feel your hair against your bare arms. Your own lie. The one you can't send away. 

Hyunjin has wandered in miserable circles for hours. Dragging his feet around a city that doesn't see him the way you do. The way you did. 

He failed. Not his mother, not the gods—you. He failed you, failed himself. He was going to tell you, he really was, but there was never a right moment. He could never bring himself to corrupt the peace he found with you. Look where that's gotten him. 

It's the middle of the night when his feet carry him right back to the start. To your apartment. He stares, he knows better, you don't want to see him. You don't trust him. 

He steps in anyway. Calls the elevator, rides it up to your floor like muscle memory. Every step echoes, the lights flicker and he ignores it. The symbols on your door are darker now. Fresh. He knows what that means—you've seen a monster. 

He doesn't reach for the knob, he knows better, but still, the door reacts. The sigils traced into the metal hiss, smoke curls as they sink into themselves, pushing itself further and further inside. The salt line along the threshold vibrates, twinkling like a hazard. 

Hyunjin watches, shattered. His hand lifts before he can stop it, hovering inches from the door.

The sigils flare hotter. He pulls back like the metal burned him. Now he understands what he's done—he's lost you. 

You've petrified yourself. Your legs are numb from how you've folded them, the pain burned away hours ago. Your entire body feels the same now. 

The night has swallowed the streets, your space is dark save for the glow of the coals that you've replaced. They're running on the last of themselves. 

The clock changes again, the bell by the window blows in the wind, the candle on your altar shines low. The…candle on your altar. Your head turns slow, eyes fuzzy when they land on the flickering flame. That candle, the one you offered your mother when asking for a sign, went out hours ago. 

The bell rings louder. You undo yourself, feet tingling against the cold marble. You step into the main room, the bell by the closed windows blows. The bell, by the closed window. 

Your feet stick with every slow step. The bell keeps ringing. Not wildly, just enough to scrape along your nerves. The coals along the wall glow brighter with each step you take, like the house itself is holding its breath. The window is still shut. The blinds are drawn tight. The bell tied above the window moulding trembles again, metal arching away from the wall. Your wards don’t do that for nothing.

Your stomach twists. Athena’s hunters don’t knock.

You reach the window slowly, fingers hovering above the cord of the blinds. Your pulse thunders in your ears. For a second you just stand there, staring at the thin strip of darkness between the slats. You imagine it—a stranger standing outside. A blade. A bow. Hyunjin kneeling somewhere far away, begging for his mother's forgiveness while someone else finishes the job he couldn’t. Your hand tightens around the cord. The wards brace with you.

“Fine,” you whisper, voice rough. “Come on then.”

You yank the blinds upward. The slats snap open with a sharp clatter. A shadow moves, not lunging, not attacking. Turning. Hyunjin’s head whips toward the window. For a second neither of you move.

He’s sitting on the fire escape railing, one foot braced against the metal ladder, shoulders tense like he’s been ready to spring all night. His eyes scan your face first—fast, frantic—before flicking past you, checking the room behind you like he expects something else to be there.

Then his gaze settles back on you. 

He freezes. Like a man caught somewhere he knows he doesn’t belong. The streetlight below paints his hair pale silver. His jaw tightens when he realizes you’ve seen him. He doesn’t move toward the window. Doesn’t speak. He just stays there on the fire escape.

“You—” The word dies in your throat. Hyunjin straightens slightly, like he’s making himself smaller on the narrow strip of metal outside.

“I wasn’t coming in,” he says quietly. His voice barely carries through the glass.

Your hand tightens on the edge of the window frame. “Then why are you here?”

His eyes flick down to the street for a second before returning to yours. “Making sure no one else does.”

The bell trembles again, chiming softly between you. Your wards hum under your skin, restless, uncertain. Hyunjin glances at the sigil burned into the frame from the outside and lets out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh.

“They’re working,” he says. “That’s good.” You stare at him. At the way he’s positioned himself facing the street instead of the window. At the way he hasn’t even tried the latch.

“You’re setting them off.”

“I know.” He doesn’t apologize. He just shifts his weight slightly on the railing, eyes already moving back to the dark street below. 

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” he says after a moment, “just...” Your fingers hover over the window latch. You shouldn't open it, you know that. You don't want him here, he isn't safe. “Just let me watch for the night, I'll be gone as soon as the sun comes up.” he looks back at you, eyes holding yours from the other side of the glass.

“No.” You flip the latch, open the window too fast to be welcoming. “I'm not letting you sit here and plot.”

“I'm not plotting.”

“I don't believe you, why would I believe you.”

Hyunjin's jaw clenches, eyes narrowing. “Because I haven't killed you.” 

You let out a hollow laugh. “Not yet.” 

Hyunjin scoffs, turning back towards the night. “For someone who thinks I’m here to murder you, you opened the window pretty fast.”

Your fingers curl against the frame. “Don’t flatter yourself. If you try anything, the wards will tear you apart before you get two steps in.”

“Good.” His voice is sharp now. “They should.” He shifts off the railing. The fire escape groans softly under his weight as he steps closer to the window. You feel it immediately. The wards along the frame hum low, heat creeping through the frame where your hand rests.

“Stop right there.” Hyunjin does. He’s only a step closer, but it feels like the air between you tightened.

“I’m not crossing the threshold,” he says. “Relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax.”

“Then stop acting like I’m waiting for the right moment to gut you.”

“You said yourself that was the plan.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek, “Yeah. It was.” The words land heavy between you. “You were supposed to be something else,” he continues, voice rougher now. “Something easy to kill.”

“And I guess I disappointed you.”

“You did the opposite.” Your laugh is sharp.

“Oh, that’s supposed to make me feel better? You only almost murdered me because I turned out to be charming?” Hyunjin steps closer again before he can stop himself. The sigils along the windowframe flare hot. He freezes instantly. For a moment neither of you breathe. His voice is quieter when he speaks again.

“I stayed because I didn’t want you to die.”

“Don’t.”

“I mean it.”

“Don’t you dare pretend that makes this noble.” Your voice cracks, anger spilling through it. “You came into my home. You slept in my bed. You let me—”

The words choke off. Hyunjin’s face twists. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I know.”

“You knew the whole time what you were supposed to do.”

“And I didn’t do it.”

“You were going to.”

“Maybe,” he snaps, finally losing the careful edge he’d been holding. “At the beginning, maybe I was.”

The admission hits the air like a dropped blade. Your stomach twists. “Gods, you really are unbelievable,” you whisper.

Hyunjin drags a hand through his hair, pacing one step along the fire escape before stopping again in front of the window. “You think this is easy for me?” he says, voice rising now. “You think I planned any of this?”

“You planned to bring my head to your mother.”

“And instead I spent a year falling in love with you.” Silence slams into the space between you. The wards quiet. Hyunjin looks like he regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. But he doesn’t take them back.

“You didn't.” You say it quickly, as if to break your fall. Hyunjin doesn't fight you. “You don't love me, don't say that again. Don't lie to me again.”

His eyes flash, like this is where he draws the line. “I would never lie about loving you.” 

“No,” you say again, louder now, backing away from the window. “No, you don’t get to do that.”

The wards hum uncertainly along the frame. The coals flicker in their tins. “You don’t get to come back here and say something like that like it fixes anything.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. He just watches you. Arms hanging by his sides. “You lied to me for a year,” you continue, voice shaking now. “You let me trust you.”

Your voice breaks. The wards flicker. “I don’t want your love,” you say, even as tears spill down your face. “You don’t get to give that to me now.”

Hyunjin huffs a humorless laugh, “Too late.”

Your eyes stay on his, wide and desperate. “Don't.”

“I already did.” The words hit you like a slap. Like ice to heat.

“Stop it!” you shout, stumbling another step back. “Just stop—” The bell by the window rings sharply. Hyunjin moves, not fast. Not like an attack. Just one step toward the window. The sigils along the frame flare. Smoke curls from the carved lines, bright and angry.

“Hyunjin,” you warn. He doesn’t stop.

The moment his hand touches the frame, the wards strike. Heat flashes across the frame. Hyunjin sucks in a sharp breath as the sigils burn against his palm, light biting into his skin like teeth.

“Don’t—” you gasp. He pushes anyway. The wards scream, Hyunjin grunts like he isn't being lit alive. Salt along the threshold scatters violently, the bell clanging against the glass as the sigils fight him back.

For a second the amulet at his throat flares bright blue. Then it falters. The mirage slips, just for a heartbeat. The air around him distorts, like heat rising from stone. Something dark follows him, pressing against the edges of his shape—the shadow of wings burned to bone, a sharp glow to his silver hair, a flicker of liquid hell in his irises. 

Your breath catches.

Hyunjin grits his teeth and forces himself through. His skin is angry red when his feet hit the marble floor. Burns rise along his arms, neck and hands. He staggers once, but he doesn’t fall.

The sigils along the room flicker wildly, unsure now, their light sputtering. The coals go out in every corner. Leaving you in nothing but his moonlit shadow. Hyunjin straightens slowly. Up close, you can see the strain in his face, the way the amulet at his throat cracks and settles as it tries to rebuild the illusion.

He looks at you like none of that mattered. “I love you,” he says again, voice rough.

You stare at him. At the way the wards dim around the room. At the damage he’s taken just to stand before you and say it again. Your laugh breaks out before you can stop it. It’s sharp. Wrong.

“That’s insane.” Hyunjin’s expression doesn’t change. “You love me?” you repeat, voice shaking now. “You were sent here to cut off my head.” His hands ball into fists at his sides.

“You knew that the entire time,” you continue, taking another step back like the distance might steady you. “You knew who I was. You knew what I was.” Your voice cracks. “And you still let me fall in love with you.” The words land harder than you expect.

For a second, the fire in his eyes shows it's again, resisting. “You don’t get to say that you love me now,” you whisper. “Not after that.”

“I didn’t plan it,” he says quietly.

“That doesn’t make it better!” The wards pulse weakly along the walls, responding to the spike of your voice. The silence that follows throbs, the bell settles. “You should have killed me,” you say suddenly. The room goes still. Hyunjin’s head snaps up.

“No—”You cut him off.

“If that was your mission, you should have done it the first night,” Your cheeks are wet with the words. “Before I trusted you. Before I thought I loved you.”

Your voice breaks again. Hyunjin takes a step toward you. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” you fire back. “It would have been cleaner.”

Hyunjin watches you like you've pointed a knife at his chest—“You just couldn’t finish the job.”—and plunged it. Something in him breaks.

“That’s not what happened.”

“Then what did?” you shout. Silence stretches for half a breath. Then Hyunjin laughs once, bitter and hollow.

“You really want to know?” Your stomach twists. “Fine.”

He takes another step toward you. The wards hum, but don’t strike again. “I lied to her.”

You blink. “What?”

“I lied to Athena.” He says it louder this time. “The first time she asked about you, I told her I hadn’t found anything. The second time I said you’d already moved cities.”

Hyunjin’s eyes lock on yours. “The third time I told her that I thought you were dead.” The room goes very, very quiet.

“You—”

“She knew I was lying,” he cuts in. “Of course she knew. She’s Athena.” A humorless smile twists his mouth.

“But I kept doing it anyway.” Your chest tightens. “Every time she asked, I bought you another month. Another week. Another day.”

You stare at him. “You could die for that,” you whisper.

Hyunjin shrugs slightly, like the thought barely matters. “Probably.”

Your stomach drops. “Why?” The question comes out before you can stop it. Hyunjin’s expression shifts—not softer, but rawer.

“Because she’s the only person who was ever supposed to love me.” The words hang heavy between you. “And she never did.”

He gestures vaguely toward the door. “But you did.” Your throat tightens. “And I decided that was worth it,” he continues quietly. 

“Worth the lies. Worth the scorn. Worth whatever she does to me when she finally stops asking and starts punishing.” He meets your eyes again.

“I’d rather be hated by the gods,” he says, voice steady now, “than to never be loved by you.” Silence floods the room. The wards around you dim, confused by the storm of emotion twisting through the space.

“You don’t mean that.” Your voice betrays you, doubting itself.

“If you believed that I'd be dead.” He gestures to the coals, the symbols on the walls. “These are strong enough to kill me. I know they are. I know you. You know I love you, and the fact that I'm standing here means that you love me too.”

There's a ghost of rejection. A quick flicker of a fight before you just can't. The coals ash themselves. The bell settles. And Hyunjin takes a step closer. 

“Even if I know that…” you start, swallowing your emotions before they undo you. “we can't pretend that someone else isn't going to try and kill me. Hell, they'll kill both of us.”

He takes another step. “Let them come.” And another, “Let them try.”

Your hands are shaking, reaching just barely towards him. “I don't want this to hurt anymore. I don't want to keep running. I can't, I can't keep hiding, Hyunjin.”

“Hey, hey.” He closes the space, hands meeting your wanting ones. “Nothing's gonna hurt you, you hear me?”

You give into him. Into the pull. He wraps strong arms around you, one hand bracing your head to his chest. You sob, unravel at every exposed seam. 

“Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby.” He whispers it in a chant, like if he says it enough it'll bleed into your bones beside the fear. “I'm not going anywhere.” 

You sink down to your knees and he goes with you. When you pull back you see him, beyond the mirage. Silver hair bright as stars and pieces of hell clinging in the places darkness finds him. Eyes as sharp as knives, looking right into yours. 

For a moment you can’t breathe. Not because he’s monstrous. Because he’s still him. Hyunjin watches your face carefully, like he’s bracing for the moment you recoil. You don’t. Your hand lifts instead, trembling, hovering near his cheek before finally touching him. His eyes close.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you whisper. Hyunjin lets out a slow breath.

“You should be.”

“Maybe,” you murmur. “But I’m not.” His hand tightens around yours.

“If the gods come for you,” he says quietly, “they’ll have to go through me first.”

You shake your head weakly. “Hyunjin—”

“I mean it.” His eyes open again, burning with something fierce and steady. “If loving you gets me killed, at least I’ll die knowing someone finally saw me.”

Your breath shudders out of you. The last of the fight drains from your body. You fall forward into him again, and he holds you like he’s always wanted to be. Your sobs quiet slowly against his chest, his hand moving gently over your back, his voice low in your ear until the shaking in your hands finally fades. Minutes pass before either of you move. When you pull away again, the room feels different. Quieter. Softer. You’re the one who stands first. Your hand reaches for his. “Come on,” you say quietly.

He follows you without question. The bedroom feels smaller somehow, more intimate than it ever has before. You sit on the edge of the bed and he settles beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. For a moment you just look at each other. Then you lean forward. Your lips find his, a flicker of hesitation in your breath before giving in.

Hyunjin makes a thankful sound, his hand lifts gently to your cheek, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too fast. The kiss is soft at first. Careful. A quiet apology pressed between your lips. Your fingers slide over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. The cold of his cracked amulet biting into your palm. Familiar.

His other hand slips into your hair, catching in the locs he’s never touched before. He pauses for a heartbeat, thumb brushing softly along the strands. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. Your own amulet warms at the words, something it’s never done. Then—a sound breaks the stillness. Both of you turn. Across the room your altar glows. The candles that had burned themselves into pools of wax breathe again, their flames rising from nothing in thin flickering lines. The vial you filled with tears sits empty now, the glass dry to the bottom. 

She heard you. This is your sign.

Hyunjin watches you, watches the moment sink into your worried bones and bring something lighter to the surface. The thin flames shrink one by one, you watch them as if you’re seeing your mother walk away from the room. As if she’s saying ‘you’re safe here’.

The amulet at your throat warms again, shining an emerald against your skin. The stone at the center of your necklace pulses once—faint, like a heartbeat. “Hey…” he whispers. Hyunjin’s gaze drops, you turn back to him, and when he sees you he freezes. 

The mirage slips. Not fully, just a fracture. Just enough for him to finally see you. The air around you chills, there’s a faint shimmer of scales along your collarbone, shadow of serpents where your hair should be. All dead. Your eyes are what stun him, endless pools of jade and gold. He can’t look away, petrified by the sight of you. All of you.

Then it’s gone. The illusion snaps back into place. Silence floods the space between you. Hyunjin is still holding you. Still close. He studies your face like he’s trying to memorize it all over again. There’s no fear. No disgust. 

His hand comes up and cups your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your jaw. Then his fingers move slowly through your hair, careful with the strands. The locs slide through his fingers, he’s careful with them. 

You breathe, allow yourself to melt. To be seen. He kisses you again, this time deeper. Not desperate—just certain. Like something broken between you is slowly being mended. The room around you grows warmer, quieter, the night settling gently against the windows.

Your amulets touch, warm against your skin. Your mirage slips away with his, and this time, you both lean into the burn. 

a/n: Oh, I'm nervous! If you read until the end then thank you time one thousand. This is a fic that I actually just wrote for myself. I wrote it for fun and practice but I love it so much that I figured why not and after having the wonderful, sweet, and absolutely brilliant @skzophreniic read it and hype me up a bit I've finally found the courage to post it! Fantasy is not my usual so go easy on me.

❥Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

❥ Taglist is will be re-done soon!

All Content Taglist : @wealwayskeepfighting @whokno-ows @stay-tiny-things @yaorzu-blog @krayzieestay @nxtt2-u  @armystay89 @kayleefriedchicken @compersian  @kibs-and-bits @poppet05 @estella-novella @unbel1ve4ble @pixie-felix @catsforlife6864 @lisaskz @chloe-elise-2000 @jaeminie-cricket @gingerrracha @wickedbutlovely @lolareadsimagines @h00d-tr4sh @felixleftchickennugget @jeyelleohe @hanjiyunho @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @iminc0gnito @dreamingaboutjisung @lixiluvs @teddy-stay @baconcupcakes123 @soulsbbg @stay-bi @yzsqu @lghtdarling @joonkki @my_neurodivergent_world @tricky-ritz @linospetsitter @0sunshinecryptidd @miyaluvvsyou @chansfavoriterubberducky @felixleftchickennugget @babygay2005 @stellasays45 @corgilover20 @bx-lov3 @myrkhive @kttb @rockstarkkami

@cowboylikemalika @angellcvkes @caitlyn98s @camryn-haitani @felixsonlyrealwife @binnie-c @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @bbokarismeow @hannahlue @nctdreamchaser @tangerineastronaut @lezleeferguson-120 @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @staytinyluva @iyenabi @sammhisphere @hhjlvr @geni-627 @thvsuga @staytinyluva @hanjifangirlie @breakmeoff @quaxing-lour @piratepunk-mae