#Sans has a terrifying reputation

[cocobeanncteez]

Ateez Choi San — Safe Habor

Genre: SMUT (mdni / 18+), angst, fluff, strangers to lovers au

Pairing: Attorney! San x CEO! Reader (fem)

Word Count: 22.5k

Warnings/content: divorce topics, reader is framed for drug possession and distribution, domestic violence by reader's ex (very brief scene), mentions of a failing marriage, lack of support from parents, please note that the reader's ex husband in this story is a random name I made up and so are other names in his story other than ateez, court battles, restraining order, reader gets arrested, driving under strong emotion, making out, breast play, dry humping, hand job, oral sec (f receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, vaginal penetration, protected sex (pill), multiple orgasms, praising, pet names (sweetheart, baby), sorry if I missed anything else!

You stand in front of the large windows of your penthouse, gazing out at the city skyline. The lights from the buildings in the distance flicker like stars, but tonight they bring you no comfort like they usually did.

The weight on your shoulders has been growing heavier with each passing day, pressing down on you until it's nearly suffocating.

The argument you had with your husband, Baek Jaeyoon, echoed in your mind— his awful words were sharp, cutting, and so very dismissive. He’d once made you believe in the possibility of a partnership, a marriage of equals, but now you see it was an illusion, one carefully crafted by him and your family.

You never wanted to marry so early in the relationship, especially not for convenience, for business. But your family’s expectations were clear: Jaeyoon was the right choice, the only choice, a perfect match simply because his family was as wealthy as yours.

Sure, you liked him. You even dated him for a couple of months before your family said it’s time to get married. Yet, the more time passed, the more you realized you were just another asset in a long line of acquisitions for him. The love you once tried to cultivate has wilted away, leaving behind a barren landscape of resentment and pain.

Tonight, you finally admit it to yourself—after a year of being his wife, this marriage is over.

Your heart clenches with the thought, but there’s a quiet strength within you. The decision is terrifying, yes, but also liberating. You’re not just doing this for yourself; you’re doing it to reclaim the life you’ve lost in the process.

You’re Y/N— the CEO of one of the biggest furniture companies in the nation, Saturn & Co. — a woman who has built her career and reputation on her own terms. You’ve faced hostile takeovers and boardroom battle. Surely, you can handle this.

But you know you’ll need help, someone who can guide you through the legal labyrinth that awaits. You first think of Hongjoong, your longtime friend, a friend you've known all your life.

Hongjoong comes from a lawyer family that has been in this field for generations. His father was a very reputed attorney, now retired, who helped many wealthy clients win their legal battles. His father became friends with your father during their college days and are still very close to this day, so it's no surprise that you and Hongjoong became great friends too. He’s always been there when you needed him, and now, more than ever, you need his expertise.

With a deep breath, you turn away from the window and reach for your phone, dialing his number.

After three rings, he answers your call. "It's almost eleven. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Well, hello to you too, Joong," you chuckle, "Why are you still up?"

"Ah, I'm just going over some documents for a high profile case," he explains, "What's up? All okay? You never call this late."

You take a deep breath. "I... this might sound crazy or stupid, but I want to get a divorce."

There was silence on the other end for a brief moment before he said, "It's not crazy or stupid. Have you thought this through completely?"

"I have," you answer with a sigh, "You know how my parents are. They will throw a huge tantrum and threaten to disown me as usual." Hongjoong hums at that. "But Joong, I just can't live with Jaeyoon anymore. He's not the same person. We're always fighting, and he's always saying the most hurtful, disrespectful things to me."

Truthfully, Hongjoong never liked your husband. He always thought Jaeyoon seemed too short-tempered and controlling. However, you seemed to be happy initially, or at least that's what you showed the outside world, so Hongjoong never commented on it, especially since it wasn't his place to do so. But he did hint at it once or twice. Once your parents got involved, he knew what the outcome would be, and he only hoped you would fight back and make the right decision.

"Have you considered couple's therapy?" Hongjoong asked.

"I did, and I brought it up to him. He got extremely upset, said there's nothing wrong with him, that I'm the problem and I need therapy, and I should be grateful that he even chose to marry me."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "That stuck up asshole. He thinks quite highly of himself."

The rest of the conversation with Hongjoong is brief but comforting. He listens to your concerns without any judgment, his voice steady and reassuring while he gives his legal input.

“Divorce isn't my area of specialty, you know that. But my friend, a fellow attorney in my firm, Choi San, is one of the greatest attorneys I've ever seen. He’s worked on many cases similar to yours and has a great record,” Hongjoong says, “He’ll make sure you’re taken care of, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

But worry is exactly what you feel. Not about the process, but about what comes after. The unknown stretches before you, vast and intimidating. Still, you’ve made your choice. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re the one in control.

The next day, you find yourself walking into Hongjoong’s law firm, a sleek, modern building with glass walls and minimalist decor. The receptionist greets you with a warm smile, and soon you’re being escorted to a private conference room. You wished Hongjoong was here, but he was in an important meeting with one of his clients.

As you wait, blankly staring at a painting in the room, your mind races with questions. What will San be like? Will he understand the complexity of your situation, the nuances that come with being in a marriage like yours? What if he's an old man who thinks people should push through a dead marriage like your parents? It was so common for society to frown upon a divorced woman.

The door opens, and your thoughts scatter as a man steps inside. Is this an attorney or a model?

He’s quite tall, broad shoulders, siren eyes, dressed sharply in a black tailored suit, with an air of confidence that is immediately reassuring.

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you’re struck by the calm intensity in them. There’s a softness there, too, something that puts you at ease despite the circumstances.

But God, is he the most stunning man you've ever seen.

“Mrs. Baek,” he says, extending a hand. His voice is smooth, professional, but there’s a warmth in his tone that surprises you. “I’m Attorney Choi San, but please call me San. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You shake his hand, feeling the strength in his grip. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, San. Please, call me Y/N, I'm trying to get rid of the 'Mrs. Baek' title," you joke, though it was true.

San chuckles and nods. “Of course, Y/N. Hongjoong spoke very highly of you.” He gestures to the chair across from you, and you both sit down.

"I understand you’re looking to proceed with a divorce," he says, taking a laptop out of his bag and setting in on the table before opening it. "Don't mind me, I just need to take notes of what you say so I can better understand how I can help you."

You nod, the words feeling heavy in your throat. “Yes. I… I want to make sure everything is handled properly. There’s a lot at stake, and I can’t afford any mistakes.”

San gives you a reassuring smile, and you notice he has dimples. You couldn't help but think that he was extremely charming. "Don't worry, Y/N. You're in safe hands," he says, "Now, how about you start by telling me about your marriage and what prompted you to seek divorce?"

You take a deep breath and look at him directly. “I never wanted to get married so early in the relationship. It wasn’t about love—it was about business, aligning our families. And I… I tried, but Jaeyoon… he’s not the man I thought he was. We dated for a couple of months, and he was genuinely really nice. But soon after we got married, he suddenly doesn’t respect me, and lately, it feels like he’s more interested in controlling me than being my partner.” San listens intently as you explained your situation. The more you talk, the more you notice the way he focuses on you, his attention unwavering even while he's typing on his laptop.

San nods when you finish speaking, his expression serious but understanding. “It sounds like you’ve been carrying this weight for a long time.”

“I have,” you admit, your voice softer. “I’ve always put my family and my company first, but I can’t keep doing that at the expense of my own happiness and mental peace. I want out, but I don’t want this to become a spectacle. My family… they’ll try to push back, and Jaeyoon’s family will make things difficult too.”

You continue to tell him more about your life, and he asks the right questions, probing gently but thoroughly, and it becomes clear that he understands the complexities of your life—the family expectations, the business implications, the emotional toll.

San leans forward slightly, his gaze steady on yours. “The first step is to file a petition for divorce. Since both of you are public figures, we can request that the details remain confidential to avoid any unnecessary media attention. We’ll also need to consider how any joint assets will be divided, as well as any potential claims from Jaeyoon regarding spousal support.”

As the meeting progresses, you feel a sense of relief washing over you. San’s approach is meticulous, but there’s also a kindness to him that you hadn’t expected. He’s not just treating this as another case; he’s treating you like a person, like someone who deserves to be heard and supported.

“What kind of timeline are we looking at?” you ask, a hint of anxiety creeping into your voice.

“It depends on a few factors,” San replies, his tone calm and reassuring. “If Jaeyoon agrees to the divorce and we can reach a settlement outside of court, it could be finalized in as little as six months. However, if he contests it, especially regarding asset division or other terms, it could take longer—potentially a year or more.” You frown, the thought of this dragging on for so long unsettling.

“And if it does go to court?”

“If it goes to court, we’ll be prepared,” San assures you with confidence. “I’ll work to ensure that your interests are protected. That means gathering all the necessary financial documents, assessing the value of shared assets, and if needed, preparing for depositions and hearings. I’ll handle the legal strategy, but I’ll also make sure you’re fully informed every step of the way.”

“What about my company? Saturn & Co. is my life’s work. I can’t afford for it to be affected by this.”

San’s expression softens slightly as he considers your concern. “We’ll make protecting your company a priority. Given that Saturn & Co. was established long before your marriage, we’ll argue that it should remain entirely under your control. But we’ll need to be thorough in documenting that your company assets and finances are distinct from any shared marital property.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Thank you, San. This is all so overwhelming.”

He gives you a small, encouraging smile. “That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. I’ll guide you through this process, and we’ll take it one step at a time. You’re not alone in this.”

By the time you leave the law firm, you’re still apprehensive about the future, but for the first time, you feel like you’re not facing it alone. And as you think back to the way San’s eyes softened when you spoke, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this won’t be as lonely as you feared.

2 months later

The familiar scent of Jaeyoon’s cologne hits you as soon as you step into the penthouse and hang your coat in the closet after a long day at work. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the weight of the divorce papers in your bag like a lead anchor.

You mentally thanked San for being so quick to give you the documents. Since you had no kids with Jaeyoon, and your pre-nup was very straightforward about how any joint assets should be divided, San said your case wasn't very complicated.

In the 2 months of working with San, you have grown to take a liking towards him. He was kind and gentle towards you, and he always gave you his full attention when you spoke. When you went to Hongjoong's birthday party a month ago, you were delighted to see San there as well; that's when you got to know him in a non-professional way, and you genuinely thought he was the sweetest, most understanding man you had ever met.

Now, standing in your penthouse with the divorce papers in hand, you felt extremely anxious. You had rehearsed this moment countless times in your mind, but now that you’re here, every word you planned feels inadequate.

Jaeyoon is seated in the living room, scrolling through his phone, but he looks up as you enter. There’s an expectant look on his face, like he knows something’s coming. He's certainly no stranger to the way you’ve been acting these past two months, and he was often very angry when you refused to be intimate with him.

You steel yourself, trying to gather the courage you need. “Jaeyoon... We need to talk,” you say, your voice steady, though your heart is racing.

His brow furrows as he puts down his phone. “What’s this about, honey?” he asks, and you mentally cringe at the pet name.

You reach into your Dior tote bag and pull out the divorce papers, holding them out to him. For a moment, Jaeyoon just stares at them, as if he doesn’t understand. But then, slowly, he takes them from your hand.

He skims through the content of the top page. “What the hell is this?” His voice is low, almost calm, but you can hear the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“It’s what I should have done a long time ago,” you reply, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I want a divorce, Jaeyoon. This marriage… it isn’t working.”

He flips through the papers, his expression darkening with each passing second. “You can’t be serious,” he finally says, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea what this will do? To us? To our families? To the business?”

“I’ve thought about it,” you say, standing your ground. “This is the only way forward for me. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Jaeyoon’s face twists with rage. “You ungrateful fucking—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he slams the papers onto the coffee table, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?”

“You didn’t do anything for me, Jaeyoon,” you say, your voice breaking. “You did it for yourself. For control. I’m not your possession. I tried to fix this marriage for months, but you refused to make any attempts to realize how horribly you’ve been treating me.”

Before you can react, he’s on his feet, his hand striking you across the face with a force that sends you reeling. The sting is sharp, but the shock is even sharper. You stumble back, your hand instinctively reaching for your cheek.

“Jaeyoon!” you cry out, but he’s already moving.

"I'll fucking kill you!" His eyes are wild, fury taking over as he grabs a nearby vase and hurls it at you. You barely have time to duck, and the vase smashes into the wall behind you, hitting your shoulder in the process before shattering into pieces on the floor. A sharp pain shoots through your shoulder, but you force yourself to stay on your feet.

Your breath comes in short, panicked gasps as you stare at the broken remains of the vase, the reality of what just happened crashing down on you. This is no longer just about a failed marriage—this is about your safety, your life.

Without another word, you turn and run out of the penthouse, the door slamming behind you. You don’t stop until you’re in the elevator hastily pressing the button for the parking garage, your body shaking uncontrollably. You were glad your bag was still with you and had all the stuff you needed— your phone, wallet, and keys.

As soon as you reach the parking garage, you make your way to your car. You unlock it with your keys and quickly lock yourself in. You realized you ran out in your house slippers when it's freezing outside, but that was the least of your concerns right now.

You needed to get out of here.

You switched your car engine on and put your seat belt on, ignoring the pain in your shoulder. Tears blur your vision as you fumble for your phone, and before you know it, you’ve dialed San’s number. While his phone rang, you moved the gear selector in your car to drive, and you wasted no time in pressing on the accelerator, leaving the garage and the gates of the apartment building.

Your phone was connected to your car, and San's soft voice was heard. "Hello?"

"San…" Your voice is barely a whisper, choked with sobs. "Sannie, I..."

“Y/N? What happened?” His voice is immediately alert, concerned. The sound of your car's indicator alerted him further. “Where are you? Are you in a car?”

“I… I’m driving. I can’t… I don’t know what to do…” Your words tumble out in a rush, your mind spinning.

"Y/N, tell me where you are. It's not safe for you to drive under strong emotion. Please pull over, I'll come get you."

"He... he hit me," you cried, ignoring San's words. "I left... I'm driving and I don't... I don't know where I'm going, but—"

"Sweetheart, please," San begs, and the sudden nickname makes your heart burst, and you find yourself calming down a bit. "Please pull over. It's not safe. Please."

And you finally listen to him. "Okay," you murmur, taking a deep breath. You make a turn into what seems to be the parking lot of a hospital. You parked in the first slot you could find. "I... I stopped."

"Okay, what do you see around you?" San asks, and you can hear some muffling in his background.

"A hospital," you say, glancing around from your car for the name of it. "Geumgang Asan hospital."

San lets out a breath in relief. "You're actually right by my apartment," he says, and you hear a door close in his background.

"Which apartment?" You ask, voice still shaky.

"Raemian Caelitus," he answers, "Stay right there. I’m coming to get you. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes. Which car are you in?"

You don't respond to San. Instead, you put your car in drive and head for his apartment complex, doing the complete opposite of what he told you to do.

"Y/N?"

"I'm almost there," you say to him.

San groans. "Y/N... It's—"

"I know, I know," you chuckle, "but it takes less than two minutes by car. Besides, I'm already here." You pull up to the apartment gates, rolling your window down to speak to the security. He took down your name and number before opening the gates for you.

You drove to the guest parking lot and parked there, waiting for San to get to you. You slump against the car seat, your tears falling freely now. The numbness starts to set in, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold the pieces of yourself together.

It feels like an eternity, but in reality, it’s only a minute or two before there's a knock on your car window. You grab your bag and keys, getting out of your car. The cold night air feels chilly against your tear-streaked face. You’re still trembling; the shock of what happened earlier was refusing to release its grip on you.

San doesn’t say a word—he just pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from everything that just happened.

You break down completely, sobbing into his chest, and he just holds you, his hand gently stroking your hair. “It’s okay,” he murmurs softly. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

When you started shivering, San noticed that you weren't wearing a coat, and your feet were only covered with your house slippers. He immediately takes his coat off and wraps it around you before picking you up bridal-style, wasting no time in making his way back to his apartment.

Once you reach the warmth of San's apartment, he sets you down on his couch. His actions made you sob more as you were touched by the way he treated you. He continued to hold you in his arms, trying to control the anger he felt at seeing the faint handprint mark on your cheek.

After a while, when your sobs start to quiet, San gently tilts your chin up to look at him. His eyes are filled with worry, but there’s also a fierce determination there. “We’re going to make sure he never hurts you again,” he says firmly.

You nod, unable to find the words, but the way San looks at you—so protective, so caring—gives you some strength. You feel like you’re moving toward something better, something that’s just for you.

The two of you sit in silence for a while. You tried to gather your thoughts, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

Eventually, he speaks, his voice gentle but serious. "Y/N... do you want to talk about it?"

You take a deep breath. "I gave him the divorce papers... he didn't take it well. Everything happened so fast. He slapped me, and then he threw a vase at me."

He cupped your face with one hand, gently stroking your cheek, a look of worry in his eyes. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

You knew your shoulder was definitely bruised, and you could still feel the dull ache. But you didn't want to tell San that.

"No... I'm okay," you lied. "Jaeyoon said he would kill me when he threw the vase. I left right after that." You noticed the way San's jaw clenched.

“Y/N, what that dickhead did tonight is beyond unacceptable. We need to take steps to make sure you’re safe. I think we should file for a restraining order against him.”

You glance at him, fear creeping back into your mind. “But… there’s no proof. It’s just my word against his.”

San nods, understanding the concern. “I know it feels like an uphill battle, but your testimony is important. The court can issue a restraining order if it believes there’s a credible threat, even without physical evidence. Your account of what happened, combined with the details of your marriage and the pattern of controlling behavior, can be enough to convince the judge.”

You hesitate, the thought of facing Jaeyoon in court, of reliving the nightmare, filling you with dread. “What if they don’t believe me? What if… what if this makes everything worse?”

San reaches over, gently squeezing your hand. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, Y/N. Not just as your lawyer, but as someone you can trust, someone you can count on," he says, and you felt butterflies in your stomach. "We’ll present your case as clearly and thoroughly as possible. We can also gather any supporting evidence like records of past arguments, any messages or emails that show his controlling behavior. Even if we don’t have a video or physical proof, your word carries weight, Y/N.”

His reassurance steadies you somewhat, and you nod slowly, deep in thought while blankly staring at the numerous law books on his bookshelf.

And then it hit you.

Video proof.

You turn to San with a hopeful look in your eyes. "I just realized, we have cameras in the living room. And this whole thing happened there, too. The footage should be on the app on my phone."

San's eyes widened, and a huge smile spread across his face. "This is perfect, Y/N! This would be more than enough to get the restraining order, as well as settle the divorce without having to go to court. Once we show him that we have evidence of his violence, there's no way he would fight back cause the court will most likely rule in your favor!"

You reach for your phone and unlock it, immediately opening the app. The footage gets saved in 30-minute intervals, and you were glad to see that it was still there and Jaeyoon had not deleted it yet. You downloaded the footage to have a copy of it on your phone. San requested that you send the footage to him as well so he could adjust the documents he wrote accordingly.

"Thank you, San," you say with a smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He only smiled and stroked the back of your head. "Did you have dinner?" he asks, and you nod.

"Mhmm, I ate at work."

His face grew slightly serious when he noticed it was one hour to midnight. "Y/N, do you... want to stay the night here? I have a guest room. But if you're uncomfortable and you prefer a hotel or somewhere else, I can drive you. Whatever's most comfortable for you."

"I want to be here with you," you say in a soft tone, your words sending San's heart into a frenzy.

He nods and gets up. "Make yourself at home. Let me prepare the guest room a little bit first, okay? If you want to drink or eat something, the kitchen is all yours."

"Thanks, Sannie."

While San was busy setting up the guest room, you looked around the living room of his apartment. The decor was so simple and beautiful, and you noticed many pieces of furniture were actually made by your company. You loved how clean his apartment was, not even a pillow out of place. You noticed he had a giant boba tea plushie in the corner of the room, and you couldn't help but think San was so adorable.

"It's ready," he says, and you enter the guest room. You noticed there was a hoodie and a t-shirt neatly folded on the bed. San noticed you glancing at it. "I realized you don't have any clothes to sleep in. I didn't know if you preferred warm clothes or something more airy, so I got both. In the bathroom, there's a pack of spare toothbrushes in the cabinet. If you want to take a shower, I kept a smaller bathrobe for you and a towel."

You hug him tightly. "Seriously, thank you, Sannie."

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N," he murmurs, "Get some rest, hmm? I'll be in my room if you need me."

He turns to leave, but you grab his arm. "Wait..." you hesitate, "I... um..."

"Hmm?"

"Can you... can you perhaps... stay here with me, please?" You ask in a quiet tone, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Oh, um, I can if you want me to," he answers, his own cheeks turning pink. "Let me get ready for bed first, and then I'll join you, okay?"

You nod and he leaves the room to give you some privacy. You head into the bathroom to change out of your clothes and take a quick shower. You brushed your teeth and put some lip balm on. You chose to wear his t-shirt, which served as an oversized t-shirt for you. Taking a whiff of the t-shirt, you lightly hummed in delight, his scent of him making you feel some type of way.

When you exited the bathroom, San was already under the covers of the bed. He shyly pats the space beside him, and you slid under the covers with him.

San kept a bit of distance from you to not make you feel uncomfortable. You really appreciated that, but you wanted him to be closer.

Knowing the gentleman San is, you knew you had to speak up first.

"Can you... come closer?" You squeak out, slightly embarrassed. San chuckles and does as you say.

"Anything else?" he teases. You turn on your side so you're facing him, and the faint light from the nightlamp makes his skin glow somehow. San was so beautiful inside out. You were utterly mesmerized by him.

"Closer," you whisper. San moved closer to you, his head now on your pillow. You could feel his breath on your face and the warmth radiating from his body.

"Closer," you say again, looking between his eyes and his plump lips that were slightly parted. You reached for his arm and put it over your waist.

San understood what you wanted, but he restrained himself from giving in. "Y/N... what are you doing?" he murmurs, his hand placed softly on your back. His eyes were staring intensely into yours as if to see if you felt the same way as him in this moment.

"I want you to kiss me," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

San gulps, unsure of what to do. He wanted to kiss you, but he wasn't sure if you were really in the best mental state for that after what happened just a few hours ago.

You look at him, an expectant look on your face. You wouldn't have asked him to kiss you if you weren't confident that he felt something for you. You were not ignorant to the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way his eyes subtly roamed your body when you were in his office, the way he took a sharp inhale of your scent in a crowded elevator... but then you started to overthink.

What if he didn't want to kiss you?

What if all those signs weren't as deep as you think they are?

"I'm sorry," you say to him, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I didn't realize I was being too straightforward with this, and I understand if you don't want to kiss me. I should have—"

San placed his lips on you, shutting you up instantly. "There's nothing I want more than to kiss you," he mumbles against your lips, pulling you closer to him. "I just... don't want to put any pressure on you when you're in a vulnerable state."

You smiled against his lips, feeling touched by how considerate San was towards you.

And then you kissed him. His lips were so soft and warm while it molded with yours, and you couldn't help but feel relaxed while he kissed you back in such a soft manner, as if you were extremely delicate. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, a small whimper leaving his lips when he feels your body flush against his.

You pull away first to catch your breath. You watch as San's eyes slowly open to look at you. There was a kind look in his eyes, one that screamed of adoration.

San lets out a little giggle when it hits him that the two of you really just kissed. He kisses your forehead and holds you in his arms while he tells you all the little things you did that made his heart flutter.

Eventually, sleep finds its way to both of you, the night ending in a warm embrace.

Two days later, you and San head to the courthouse, where he helps you file for the restraining order. The process is grueling, forcing you to recount the events of the night two days before, but San is there with you, guiding you through every step. His presence is a lifeline, his calm professionalism giving you the strength to face what lies ahead.

When the judge finally reviews your petition, you feel a knot in your stomach. But as San presents your case, emphasizing the danger you’re in and the need for protection, you see the judge’s expression soften.

After what feels like an eternity, the judge grants the temporary restraining order. It’s not permanent yet—there will need to be a hearing for that—but it’s a critical first step. For now, Jaeyoon is legally required to stay away from you, and any violation of that order could lead to serious consequences for him.

When you leave the courthouse, you feel a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. But you also feel a small spark of hope—hope that, with San’s help, you might finally be able to take control of your life again.

You and San part ways to head to your respective workplaces, but he promises to see you after.

When you reach your office building, you're surprised to find your secretary waiting outside the doors of your office.

"Ms. Y/N," she starts, "Your parents are here, inside your office. I told them to wait outside, but they refused. They seemed to have found out about..."

You nod at her. "That's okay, Yena. Thanks for the heads up."

"You have a meeting in about ten minutes with the design team for the summer patio collection. I can postpone the meeting for you if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary," you say, "I'll be done in five minutes, hopefully. My parents... I know what to expect from them." Yena nods and wishes you luck.

You enter your office, shutting the doors behind you. You aren't surprised to see the rage on your parents face.

"Filing for divorce behind my back and getting a restraining order against your husband? What are you thinking?" Your mother says, a look of disappointment clear on her face.

You sigh. "Tell me, mom and dad, had I told you about it beforehand, would you have let me?" You say in a calm tone. "And that man is not my husband anymore."

"Y/N, you can not get a divorce. I forbid it," your father says in a strong tone. "You will bring utter shame to our family. I will not hesitate to take your name off my will."

You chuckle. "I don't care about your money, dad. I have my own company that I built on my own," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. "I will not live with a man that treats me like I'm inferior to him, a man that hits me and throws stuff at me."

"Jaeyoon was angry," your mother defends. "You betrayed him. He had every right to—"

"Every right to abuse me? Do you hear yourself right now?" you gave her an incredulous look. "Is your daughter's happiness and safety not more important to you than your image and connections?" You turn to look at your father. "You said I'll bring utter shame to our family, but tell me how? I'm not the one who abused him and treated him like shit for months!"

"Enough, Y/N!" your father raises his voice. "You will do as I say. You better withdraw your case. I will talk to your lawyer. I don't want to hear you talk of divorce again. I better see you in the penthouse tonight."

"My apologies, father, but I'm done listening to you," you firmly stand your ground.

"Don't make me disown you, Y/N. You married into a very good family, someone who matches your background and status in society."

"By all means, please do," you say with a scoff. "I'm not making sacrifices for your sake anymore. I have a meeting to attend, so please leave."

You turn away from your parents and walk to your desk. You sit down on your chair, and face away from your parents.

"You're an ungrateful brat," your mother spits before walking out of your office, your father grumpily following behind.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding as you slump down in your chair.

You loved your parents deeply, but you wished for once they would not care about money, power, and status, and start caring about the well-being of their child.

San sits at his desk, meticulously reviewing a file when the door to his office opens. He looks up to see your father standing in the doorway, his eyes hard and calculating. There’s no polite knock, no greeting—just an imposing presence.

San got up from his seat and bowed politely. “Mr. L/N, I wasn’t expecting you. What can I help you with today?”

Your father steps into the office, the door closing behind him with a quiet click. He doesn’t sit down, instead choosing to stand, towering over San’s desk.

"I came to discuss my daughter's case. This whole divorce nonsense. It’s a mistake, and it needs to be stopped," your father explains. His voice is firm, commanding.

San doesn’t flinch, meeting his gaze calmly while he took his seat. “With all due respect, Mr. L/N, that’s not something I can do. I represent your daughter’s best interests, and she’s made it clear she wants to proceed with the divorce.”

Your father narrows his eyes, leaning forward slightly, the temperature in the room seemingly dropping. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me, Mr. Choi. I said the divorce needs to be stopped. I’m here to make sure it doesn’t go any further.”

San remains seated, unbothered by the thinly veiled threat in the older man’s voice. He folds his hands on the desk, his expression composed. “Your daughter has the right to make her own choices, Mr. L/N. I’m here to ensure that her voice is heard and her rights are protected. I’m afraid I won’t be withdrawing from the case.”

The older man’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a step back and places a briefcase on San’s desk. With a casual flick of his wrist, he opens it, revealing stacks of neatly arranged cash.

“125 million won. More than enough to make it worth your while to reconsider.”

San’s eyes briefly flicker to the briefcase before returning to the man in front of him. His expression doesn’t change. He slowly rises from his chair, closing the briefcase with a firm click.

“I’m not interested in your money, Mr. L/N. My commitment is to my client, your daughter, not to the highest bidder,” San says in a steady tone.

Your father’s eyes darken. He straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “You might want to reconsider, Mr. Choi. You know who I am. I have powerful connections, and it wouldn’t take much to have you fired. You’re nothing more than an associate at this firm. Hongjoong and I go way back. One call from me, and you’ll be out of a job.”

San’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his cool. He steps around the desk, standing toe to toe with your father. “You’re free to make that call, Mr. L/N. But I’ll tell you right now that it won’t change anything. My integrity and my client’s well-being come first. I won’t be bullied into backing down.”

For a moment, the two men stand in silence, the tension thick between them. Then your father lets out a low chuckle, though it’s devoid of warmth. “You’re a fool, Mr. Choi. But I’ll leave you with this warning. Cross me, and you’ll regret it. You’ll wish you’d taken the money.”

The door shuts behind him with a heavy thud. San stands in the now-silent office, his eyes lingering on the closed door for a moment. He exhales slowly, tension easing from his shoulders as he returns to his desk.

San’s thoughts drift briefly to you and the storm that might be heading your way. But he steels himself, ready for whatever comes next. His loyalty to you and his belief in doing what’s right will not be shaken. Besides, he had enough trust in Hongjoong to know his friend would never listen to your father either.

Hongjoong sits at his desk, engrossed in reviewing a case, when the door to his office swings open with a heavy push. He looks up to see your father striding in without so much as a knock. His face is a mask of anger, but there’s something more—disappointment, perhaps, or even hurt.

Hongjoong straightens up immediately, his surprise giving way to a faint smile of recognition. “Uncle, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.”

Your father's jaw tightens at the familiar greeting, and he waves off the formality with a sharp motion. He stands in the middle of the room, eyes piercing as he regards Hongjoong with a mixture of affection and frustration.

Your father starts, “Hongjoong, what is this mess with Y/N?”

Hongjoong sighs inwardly but keeps his composure. He gestures to the chair across from his desk. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

Your father shakes his head. “I’m not here to chat. I’m here because of this nonsense with your associate, Choi San. You’re letting him destroy my family. You’ve known Y/N since she was born, Joong. How can you allow this to happen?”

The use of his childhood name stirs something in Hongjoong—a reminder that this man was more than just a powerful businessman. He had watched Hongjoong grow up, had been at family dinners, birthdays, celebrations. But Hongjoong keeps his professional mask on, aware that this conversation would require careful navigation.

Hongjoong softly says, “Uncle, you know I care about Y/N. I’ve always looked out for her, and I’m doing that now.”

“By letting her divorce her husband? By letting her throw away everything we’ve built? This will ruin her—and us!” your father says, his voice rising.

Hongjoong’s face hardens slightly. He motions again to the chair. “Please, Uncle. Let’s sit down and talk about this.”

Reluctantly, your father takes the offered seat, but not without a huff of frustration. He looks at Hongjoong, his gaze heavy with expectation. “You need to fire that attorney of yours. He’s putting ideas in Y/N’s head—encouraging her to throw away a good marriage. You can’t let this happen.”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath, knowing this was coming. His voice remains calm, though his loyalty to both San and you runs deep. “I won’t do that, Uncle. San is a brilliant attorney and one of my closest friends. More than that, he’s doing exactly what Y/N needs. He’s protecting her.”

Your father leans forward, his tone sharp, “Protecting her? From what? Jaeyoon’s a good man. He’s just been under stress! Y/N’s exaggerating the situation.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrow slightly, a rare flash of anger crossing his usually composed face. “This isn’t an exaggeration, Uncle. Jaeyoon’s hurt her—physically, emotionally. I’ve seen the bruises myself from when he threw a vase at her. And he’s threatened her life too.”

Your father’s expression falters for just a moment, but he quickly covers it with a shake of his head. “Y/N’s always been dramatic. She’s too sensitive. Jaeyoon would never do that.”

“This isn’t drama, Uncle. This is abuse. You’ve known me my entire life, so you know I wouldn’t say this lightly. If you don’t believe me, ask Y/N yourself. Or better yet, spend one minute in a room with her and see the fear in her eyes.”

There’s a long pause as your father processes Hongjoong’s words. He looks down, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. For the first time, doubt flickers across his face, but his pride keeps him from showing it openly. “She’s my daughter, Hongjoong. I’m doing what’s best for her.”

Hongjoong softens slightly, his tone more compassionate, “I know you love her, Uncle. But what’s best for her isn’t keeping her in a marriage that’s tearing her apart. You want to protect her? Then let her go. Let her break free from Jaeyoon and start fresh. She deserves that much.”

The room falls silent again. Your father looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation has taken. He’s used to being in control, used to getting his way, and now he’s faced with a situation that no amount of power or money can fix.

“I don’t like this, Hongjoong. Not one bit,” your father says in a quiet tone.

Hongjoong nods. “I understand. But forcing her to stay will only make things worse.”

Your father finally looks up, his voice filled with resignation, “I’ll think about what you’ve said. But don’t think I’ll just sit by and let this happen.”

Hongjoong watches as the older man slowly rises from the chair, his movements less confident than when he first entered the room. As he walks to the door, he hesitates, turning back to look at Hongjoong with a mixture of frustration and something almost like vulnerability. “You’ve grown up well, Hongjoong. I’ve always been proud of you. But I hope you’re not making a mistake.”

“Thank you, Uncle. But I believe in what I’m doing. I believe in protecting Y/N.”

With a final nod, your father turns and leaves the office, the door closing quietly behind him. Hongjoong sits back down at his desk, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. He exhales slowly, his thoughts turning to you, hoping that your father will see reason before it’s too late.

3 weeks later

You sit at the head of the long glass table, eyes focused as one of your top designers presents the new luxury patio collection. The conference room buzzes with the energy of innovation—your team is passionate, and it shows in the careful detailing of the furniture designs displayed on the digital screens along the walls. Teak wood, sleek metal accents, and eco-friendly materials come together in sophisticated harmony.

“We’ve incorporated the latest trends in sustainable materials, aiming to appeal to clients who prioritize both style and environmental responsibility. The durability will be a key selling point for the summer collection,” the chief designer explains.

You nod, your fingers drumming lightly on the surface of your notebook. Despite being from a wealthy family, you’ve built Saturn & Co. from the ground up, and you’ve learned to balance creativity with practicality. Your mind is already analyzing the numbers—thinking about production costs, price points, and the narrative you want to craft around this collection.

“I like the direction, but we need to ensure the pricing reflects the exclusivity. This is a luxury line, and our clientele expects something unique. Let’s look at limited editions to build that exclusivity,” you voice your opinion.

Your team exchanges glances, taking notes as you speak. You look at the marketing head next. “We need to start the marketing campaign as soon as possible. I want a narrative that ties back to our brand’s legacy, something that shows we’re not just following trends but leading them.”

As you discuss the campaign, the atmosphere in the room is abruptly shattered by the sound of raised voices outside the glass doors. Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance toward the commotion. Before you can react, the doors swing open, and several uniformed officers from the Korean National Police barge into the conference room.

The room goes still, everyone frozen in place.

The officer in charge looks directly at you. “Ms. L/N, you are under arrest for illegal possession and distribution of narcotics. Please stand and come with us.”

You feel the words hit you like a physical blow. The room spins for a moment, and your breath catches in your throat. You blink, trying to comprehend what’s happening. Your colleagues stare at you in shocked silence, their faces a mixture of confusion and concern.

“There must be a mistake,” you say, absolutely stunned at the accusation. Your voice feels distant, barely your own. The officer takes a step closer, his expression hard and unyielding. Two other officers flank you, moving into position as if expecting resistance.

“We have a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent.”

Everything feels surreal, as though you’ve been dropped into someone else’s life. This can’t be happening. You’ve never been involved with drugs—this is absurd. You shake your head, your voice stronger now. “I’m innocent. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

The officers ignore your protests as they take you by the arms, pulling you to your feet. You glance around the table, your team frozen in disbelief. Your head of security moves toward you but is stopped by the officers, who block his path.

As you’re led out of the conference room, your heart pounds in your chest. Fear mixes with disbelief, but you force yourself to stay calm. You don’t know how this happened, but you’re determined to fight it.

The walk through the Saturn & Co. building feels endless. Employees stop in their tracks, staring as you pass by, whispers rising in your wake. Your cheeks burn with the humiliation of it all, but you lift your chin and keep your expression calm, refusing to show any weakness.

Outside the building, a crowd has already gathered, cameras flashing in your face. You can barely hear the shouting reporters over the thrum of your own thoughts. As you’re escorted into the waiting police car, you can’t help but wonder—who could have done this? And why?

Your first thought was your ex-husband. Well, you still weren't legally divorced yet. But you had a gut feeling that it was him.

The door slams shut behind you, and as the car pulls away from the building, the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Your life is about to be turned upside down, and you know exactly who you need to call: San. He’ll help you. He has to. Right?

Its been a while since you saw San as he was busy handling back-to-back cases and traveling to meet clients and witnesses. You also bought a new apartment and were busy moving and unpacking your stuff, so you didn't have much time to meet up with him either.

Once you reached the station, you were thrown into an interrogation room. The cold, sterile room is a stark contrast to the familiar warmth of your office. The walls are bare, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a harsh, clinical glow. You sit at a metal table, your hands resting in front of you. Despite the fear bubbling up inside you, you keep your back straight, refusing to show the panic you feel beneath the surface.

You’ve been here for hours now. The officers had taken your personal belongings, leaving you feeling exposed and disconnected from the outside world. The initial booking process was a blur of fingerprinting, photographs, and paperwork. Now, it’s just you and the suffocating silence of the interrogation room.

The door creaks open, and two officers step inside. One of them, a senior detective, takes the seat across from you while the other leans against the wall, arms crossed. You can feel their eyes on you, studying your every move, waiting for any sign of weakness.

“Mrs. Baek... or should I say, Ms. L/N? The public may not know everything, but we certainly do. Now, do you know why you’re here?”

You look at him, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m innocent. I don’t know why I’ve been brought here. This has to be a mistake.”

The detective leans back in his chair, pulling out a manila folder and flipping it open. He slides a few photographs across the table toward you. You glance down at them—images of plastic bags filled with pills and powder, some stashed in a high-end handbag that looks disturbingly similar to one you own. “These drugs were found in your possession. We have evidence linking you to a drug-selling operation. Do you care to explain?”

Your stomach drops, and your hands instinctively clench into fists in your lap. You shake your head, staring at the images as though they might change if you blink hard enough.

“That’s not mine. I don’t know how those drugs got there. I’ve never been involved in anything like this. I swear,” you say.

The detective raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your denial. He taps one of the photos with his finger. “This was found in your car, Ms. L/N. Are you telling me someone planted these drugs without your knowledge?”

Your mind races. You remember parking your car that morning—everything was normal. But nothing makes sense now. You feel trapped, caught in a nightmare where you don’t know the rules.

“I don’t know how it got there. I’ve never seen those drugs before in my life, neither do I do drugs. I can do a drug test to prove that.”

The detective exchanges a glance with the other officer, who remains silent but watches you carefully. He leans forward, as if to intimidate you. “Ms. L/N, the evidence is stacked against you. Your fingerprints were found on the packaging of the bag. We were secretly searching for those involved in drug distribution of this very drug, a drug that can only fall in the hands of someone with a lot of money and influence.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your fingerprints? You struggle to breathe evenly, trying to understand how this could be happening. “That’s impossible. I’m not involved in any of this. Someone has set me up.”

The detective doesn’t blink. He looks at you as though you’re a puzzle he’s trying to solve, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. “This is your chance to come clean, Ms. L/N. The sooner you cooperate, the better this will go for you. Tell us who you’ve been working with, and maybe we can work something out.”

You shake your head, frustration and fear mixing into a potent cocktail in your chest. Your voice rises slightly, despite your efforts to stay calm. “I’m not involved in any drug operation. I don’t know who’s behind this, but it’s not me.”

The detective leans back, his expression hardening. He closes the folder and taps it lightly against the table before standing up. “I’ve heard it all before. You’re looking at serious charges here, Ms. L/N. You might want to think about your next steps carefully.”

As he leaves the room, the door shuts with a heavy click, leaving you alone once again. You drop your head into your hands, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest.

How did this happen? Who could possibly want to destroy you like this? The questions whirl through your mind, but there are no answers. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of what you know to be true. You’ve done nothing wrong. You just need to hold on, stay strong, and prove your innocence.

A knock sounds at the door, and it opens again. This time, it’s a different officer—one who escorts you back to a holding cell. They’ve told you a lawyer is on the way, and that thought alone keeps you from unraveling completely.

You pray that it’s San. He’ll know what to do. He’ll fight for you. But even as you cling to that hope, the uncertainty gnaws at you. You’ve never felt so powerless in your life.

San steps out of the courtroom, the echo of his client’s relieved voice still ringing in his ears. He had just secured another victory—an ironclad defense that left the opposition scrambling. His confidence is high as he buttons his suit jacket, his mind already shifting to the next case on his docket.

Just as he’s about to push through the heavy glass doors of the courthouse, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Glancing down, he sees Hongjoong’s name flashing on the screen. He frowns slightly, knowing Hongjoong was out of the city at the moment, but he swipes to answer.

"Hongjoong hyung," San answers in a cheerful tone, "You’re catching me right after a big win. What’s up?"

There’s a brief pause on the other end, and when Hongjoong speaks, his voice is tight, serious. “San, we’ve got a really fucked up situation. It’s about Y/N.”

San’s heart skips a beat at the mention of your name. His hand tightens around his phone, and the world around him seems to blur for a moment.

“What happened? Is she okay?” San asks, concern evident in his voice.

"No. She’s not. She was arrested earlier today," Hongjoong says grimly. "I just spoke to her father. Her parents aren't going to see her until this mess is sorted out. She has basically no one to support her now other than us."

San stops dead in his tracks, his stomach plummeting. People brush past him in the courthouse lobby, but he’s completely still, his mind racing. “Arrested? For what?”

“Drug possession and distribution. The police found drugs in her car, but it’s clear she’s been framed. It’s all over the news now—photos, headlines, everything. I’m in Gwangju meeting with some clients now as you know, and I can’t get back to Seoul until tomorrow morning. I need you to handle this for me. I thought of representing her myself, but she needs an attorney as soon as possible. Please represent her.”

San’s chest tightens with a mix of disbelief and anger. He can already see how this might play out—the media will have a field day, and your reputation will be dragged through the mud. “Of course, I’ll handle it. I’ll go to the station right away.”

There’s another pause, this time longer. San can almost hear Hongjoong’s hesitation through the phone. “I trust you with this, San. I know you’ll fight for her like I would… maybe more.”

San’s breath catches. He stares at the floor for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “What are you getting at, hyung?”

Hongjoong’s tone shifts, a little lighter despite the gravity of the situation. “I know how you feel about her, she's like a sister to me. I’ve known for a while now, Sannie. You care about her, and not just as her attorney.”

San’s mind reels. He’s always kept his feelings for you carefully hidden, even from Hongjoong. But it’s clear now that his friend has seen through him “It’s not something I planned, hyung.”

"I didn’t say you did," he says gently, "but maybe this is a chance to show her how much you care. Not as an attorney, but as someone who’s willing to stand by her through the worst of it."

San runs a hand through his hair, conflicted. His stronger feelings for you have always lingered just beneath the surface, a quiet undercurrent to the professional relationship you’ve shared during your divorce proceedings. But now, as you’re facing this crisis, he knows those feelings are about to come to the forefront, whether he’s ready or not.

It's not like you don't know of his feelings after sharing a steamy kiss on his bed. You just didn't know that his feelings for you were stronger than what he showed.

“Right now, I’m her attorney. That’s what matters. I’ll get her out of this mess first,” San says in a firm tone.

Hongjoong chuckles softly, “You’re a good man, San. I’m glad she has you in her corner. I’ll be back tomorrow to help however I can, but for now, please take care of her. And be careful—the media’s already circling like vultures.”

San nods, even though Hongjoong can’t see him. His mind is already spinning with what needs to be done: pulling strings, calling in favors, and working to get you released as soon as possible. But beneath all that, a deeper urgency thrums inside him—an overwhelming need to protect you, to be there for you, not just as an attorney but as someone who deeply cares about you.

“Don’t worry, Hongjoong hyung. I won’t let her down.”

Hongjoong hums. “I know you won’t. Keep me updated, and I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.”

The call ends, and San slips his phone back into his pocket. He stands there for a moment, staring blankly at the glass doors in front of him. His pulse quickens, and he shakes off the lingering shock. You need him now more than ever, and there’s no time to waste.

He steps outside into the late afternoon sun, his mind already focused on his next move. As much as this case will test him professionally, San knows it will also test him personally. And for you, he’s willing to face whatever comes next.

With determination in his step, San gets into his car, heading straight for the police station. There’s no way he’ll let you go through this alone.

You sit on a hard bench in the holding area, your hands clasped tightly together, the events of the last few hours playing over and over in your mind like a bad dream. You still can’t wrap your head around it. Arrested. Framed. And now, sitting here, waiting for something—anything—that will prove your innocence.

The door to the holding area swings open, and you look up instinctively, hope sparking in your chest.

And then you see him— Choi San.

His maroon suit jacket is slightly wrinkled from his hurried movements, his face a mix of worry and determination as he strides toward you.

For a moment, you can’t move, your breath catching in your throat. Relief floods through you as he approaches, his eyes softening as they meet yours.

San frowns, yet his expression was gentle. “Y/N…”

He kneels down in front of you, his presence grounding you in this moment, even though your world feels like it’s spinning out of control. His voice is low, calm, and it soothes the chaotic mess of your thoughts.

"San… I didn’t do this. I swear," you say in a trembling voice. "I don’t know how—"

He holds up a hand, his expression steady and resolute. “I know. I believe you, sweetheart.”

The simple statement, spoken with such certainty, nearly undoes you. You’ve been holding yourself together, refusing to cry, refusing to break—but the sheer relief of having someone believe you shakes you to your core. You take a deep breath, blinking back the tears that have been threatening to spill over.

“I don’t understand how this happened. Who would do this to me?” you mumble.

San glances around the room, ensuring no one else is too close, before leaning in slightly, his voice quieter but still firm. “That’s what we’re going to find out. But first, I’m getting you out of here. I’ve already spoken with the officers. There’s not enough evidence to support holding you overnight. You’ll be out soon, and we’ll start working on clearing your name.”

His confidence eases the tight knot of fear that has been sitting in your chest since the moment you were arrested. You nod slowly, feeling a flicker of hope. San has always been calm under pressure, and now, in the face of this disaster, his calm feels like a lifeline.

“Thank you, San. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

San smiles a little, his eyes never leaving yours. For a moment, something unreadable flickers in his gaze—something deeper than just professional obligation. He stands, offering you his hand to help you up. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Y/N. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you up from the bench. For a moment, you just stand there, the weight of the day pressing down on you, but San’s hand in yours keeps you steady.

Just as he promised, within the next hour, he navigates the process with the officers, and the paperwork is completed. You’re released, but the gravity of the situation still hangs over you like a storm cloud.

As you step out into the cold evening air, San walks beside you, his hand hovering near your back, a silent but steady presence. The flashing lights of a few reporters’ cameras catch your eye, and your stomach churns with dread. The story is already out there, and now it’s not just the legal system you have to worry about—it’s the court of public opinion.

San leans in to whisper in your ear, “Ignore them. They don’t matter right now.”

You nod, swallowing the rising anxiety as you step toward San’s car, slipping into the passenger seat. Once you’re both inside, the weight of the day crashes down on you all at once.

San glances over at you as he starts the car, his voice gentle. “We’ll figure this out, Y/N. I promise.”

His words are meant to comfort, but you can hear the determination behind them. You trust him—more than anyone right now—and that trust is the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

"Can we... go to your place, please?" you say, voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course we can," San answers with a smile, his dimples showing.

The car pulls away from the station, the city lights blurring by outside the window. You don’t know what comes next, but with San by your side, you feel like maybe—just maybe—you’ll be able to get through this.

The exhaustion catches up to you and you fall asleep in San's car.

Once San parks in his designated spot, he's quick to put a face mask on you to ensure no one recognizes you while he takes you to his place. You were still deep asleep with a frown on your face, so San resorted to carrying you bridal-style to his apartment.

He tried to be very slow while placing you down on the bed in the guestroom, but the movement stirred you awake. When you open your eyes, San's face is just inches away from yours.

You sit up straight and hug him, the teers falling freely now. He warmly embraces you, telling you words of encouragement and how he'll be with you through it all.

While your sobs quieted down, San pulls away to look at you. "I'll make us some dinner, hmm? I'll take about half an hour. Is that okay?" he asks sweetly, his thumbs reaching to brush your tears away.

"Can I... be in the kitchen with you? I don't want to be alone," you murmur.

San leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Of course, sweetheart. You don't even have to ask." You smile lightly, your heart racing in a good way this time.

"Let's go now, hmm? I plan to make your favorite side-dishes!"

The courthouse is bustling with activity as people file in and out of courtrooms, their footsteps echoing off the marble floors. You sit beside San on a wooden bench outside the courtroom, waiting for your case to be called. You’re dressed professionally, trying to project the calm confidence that comes naturally to you in the boardroom, though inside you’re anything but calm.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel the weight of every glance thrown your way by people passing by. The gravity of the situation is suffocating, but San’s steady presence beside you keeps you grounded. He hasn’t left your side since this nightmare began, and for that, you’re grateful.

San leans closer, his voice low and reassuring, “Remember, this is just the arraignment. They’ll present the charges, and I’ll enter a plea on your behalf. After that, we’ll have time to prepare for the real battle. Stay calm, and let me do the talking.”

You nod, drawing a deep breath and trying to steady your nerves. San gives you a small, encouraging smile before standing as your case is called.

“The People versus Y/N L/N.” The bailiff calls out.

The words send a jolt through you, but you rise to your feet, following San into the courtroom. As you walk down the aisle, you catch sight of a few reporters lurking in the back rows, their cameras trained on you. It takes everything in you to keep your head high and your expression neutral as you approach the defense table.

The judge, a stern older woman with sharp eyes, sits at the bench, looking down over the courtroom. The prosecutor stands across from you, a tall man with a stack of folders in front of him, looking all too confident.

The judge glances at the paperwork in front of her. “This is the arraignment for Y/N L/N. Let’s proceed.”

The prosecutor steps forward first, clearing his throat. “Your Honor, the defendant has been charged with illegal possession of narcotics and distribution of a controlled substance. Given the amount found and the nature of the charges, the prosecution believes there is sufficient evidence to proceed with the case.”

The words hang in the air like a death sentence, but you stay quiet, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You glance at San, who remains calm and collected, his focus razor-sharp. He rises to address the court, his voice steady.

"Your Honor," San starts, voice firm, "my client pleads not guilty to all charges."

The judge nods, making notes as San continues, his tone professional but determined. "We would also like to request that Ms. L/N remain free on bail while we prepare our defense. My client has fully cooperated with the investigation thus far and has strong ties to the community. She is not a flight risk, nor is she a danger to the public."

The prosecutor steps forward again, shaking his head. “Your Honor, given the severity of the charges, we believe that bail should be revoked. The defendant was found in possession of a substantial quantity of illegal narcotics. In fact, the police were in search of individuals tied to the distribution of this very drug. We consider her a significant flight risk, particularly given her financial resources.”

You swallow hard, anxiety tightening in your chest as the prosecutor speaks. You’ve never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. San’s hand brushes yours under the table, a small but comforting gesture, and you glance at him. His expression is calm, though his eyes flash with determination.

San stands up again. “Your Honor, my client is a respected CEO, one that is dearly loved by her employees, and has no prior criminal record. She has been falsely accused and fully intends to clear her name. She has no intention of fleeing and will cooperate with any conditions the court deems appropriate.”

The judge taps her pen against her desk thoughtfully before looking up. “Given the circumstances and the defendant’s lack of prior offenses, I will allow Ms. L/N to remain free on bail, provided she adheres to strict conditions. She will surrender her passport and be subject to regular check-ins with law enforcement. Any violation of these conditions will result in immediate incarceration.”

Relief washes over you, though it’s tempered by the reality that this is just the beginning. San nods respectfully to the judge, and you follow suit, standing as the judge dismisses the court.

As you turn to leave, you feel the weight of the reporters’ eyes on you once again. The camera flashes, the whispers—it all threatens to swallow you whole. But San places a reassuring hand on the small of your back as you walk out of the courtroom together, his presence steady and unwavering.

Outside, the fresh air hits you like a lifeline, and you take a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave your body.

“You did great in there,” San says.

You give him a weak smile, though the anxiety still churns inside you. The legal battle is just beginning, and the road ahead looks long and treacherous.

“Thank you, San. For everything.”

He glances down at you, something soft and unspoken in his eyes, before giving you a nod.

“We’ll get through this. I promise,” he assures you.

With those words, you both walk toward his car, the future uncertain but no longer quite as overwhelming. You trust him, and for now, that’s enough.

2 days later

The rich, dark wood of Hongjoong’s office and the soft leather chairs normally evoke a sense of calm professionalism, but today the air is thick with tension.

You sit at the large table in the corner of his office, San beside you, his expression serious and focused. Across from you is Hongjoong, his brow furrowed in concentration, and to his right is Yeosang, a lawyer specialized in criminal law whom Hongjoong had brought in to help navigate this tangled mess.

Yeosang leans forward, flipping through the files spread out on the table, his sharp eyes scanning the details of your case with practiced ease. He seemed to be in deep thought. “We’re dealing with someone who knows what they’re doing. The drugs were placed in a high-traffic area—your car—and, more importantly, they had your fingerprints on them. It was deliberate for sure.”

You lean back in your chair, frustration and disbelief bubbling beneath your surface composure. “But how? How did they even get my fingerprints on the bags? I’ve never touched drugs in my life.”

Yeosang looks up at you, his expression calm and reassuring, though his mind is clearly racing through possibilities. “It’s not impossible to get your fingerprints on something without your knowledge. It could’ve been as simple as someone using an item of yours—a glass, a piece of paper, even a surface you touched—and transferring the prints to the bags. It’s not common, but it’s doable with the right resources.”

San’s hand tightens slightly on the table beside you, his jaw clenched. His eyes are sharp, focused on the bigger picture. “This wasn’t some random setup. Someone orchestrated this carefully. They knew exactly what they were doing. The question is—who benefits from framing Y/N?”

A heavy silence settles over the room as everyone exchanges glances. The answer hovers in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

“It has to be Jaeyoon,” Hongjoong voices out grimly.

You nod, the name sitting like a stone in your gut. The thought had crossed your mind more than once since this all started—your soon-to-be legally ex-husband, vindictive and controlling, would have the motive and the resources to pull something like this off. But even knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

“He’s been desperate to stop the divorce, but I refused to back down. He knows he’s losing his grip on me, and his family’s connections… they’d give him access to people who could do this.”

Hongjoong nods, his expression hardening with a protective edge. He’s known you and Jaeyoon long enough to have seen the warning signs, even if it took time for you to accept them yourself. “If Jaeyoon’s behind this, he’s playing a dangerous game. But we need proof. Right now, it’s all speculation.”

Yeosang taps his fingers lightly against the folder in front of him, deep in thought. “We’ll need to dig into Jaeyoon’s connections, his finances, and any third-party contacts he may have used. If we can find a trail—payments to people who could’ve planted the drugs, any suspicious transactions—we can start to build a case. Of course, we can't do that without a court order, so we would somehow have to bring him up to the court to be able to access his finances.”

San sits up straighter, his focus laser-sharp. “Speaking of finances, we went over Y/N’s financial records. They’re clean—no suspicious activity, no unexplained deposits or withdrawals. Whoever’s doing this wants to make it look like she’s running the operation without leaving any financial trail.”

Yeosang nods, impressed but not surprised. “That’s important. It gives us a baseline to work from—if there were any dirty money moving through your accounts, it would be much harder to prove your innocence.”

You feel a small sense of relief at that. At least that part of your life is still intact. But then the anxiety returns as the enormity of the situation sinks in. “So… what now? How do we prove that it wasn’t me?”

Yeosang leans forward again, his tone reassuring. “We focus on the weak points in their setup. The planted drugs, the lack of a financial trail, and the circumstantial nature of the evidence. We need to show the court that there’s reasonable doubt—and if we can link it back to Jaeyoon, we’ll turn this whole thing around.”

Hongjoong looks at you, his eyes softening slightly. “We’ll figure this out, Y/N. We just need to be smart about it. We’ll start looking into Jaeyoon’s connections and anything we can do legally without a court order. There has to be something—someone who can tie this back to him.”

San speaks up, his voice resolute. “I’ll coordinate with investigators and see what we can find. But we also need to be prepared for whatever Jaeyoon throws our way. He’s not going to back down easily if we were to bring him to court.”

You nod, your mind spinning with everything that’s been said. The pieces are slowly starting to come together, but there’s still so much uncertainty—so much at stake. You’ve always prided yourself on being strong, on keeping control of your life and your business, but now you feel like you’re navigating a minefield where every step could lead to disaster.

San looks at you, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You won’t be fighting alone. We’ve got your back.” You nod at him, a smile playing on your lips.

The room falls silent again, but this time there’s a sense of unity—of resolve. You’re facing an uphill battle, but you know you’re not facing it alone.

The door opened, and Jongho— an intern under San— stepped in, followed by your secretary, Yena. Their expressions were serious, and you immediately sensed that they had uncovered something important. Your pulse quickened as you turned to face them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Jongho began, his voice careful and respectful, "but we found something that might be really important."

Yena stood next to him, her eyes flicking to yours. “We were reviewing the security footage from the office building, particularly your office since I'm the only one that has access besides you. We were checking to see if there was anything unusual that could explain how this whole situation began. And… well, something stood out.”

Jongho pulled out a tablet from the folder he was carrying and moved toward the table. Everyone in the room leaned in, curiosity and hope sparking through the air. San's focus sharpened as Jongho tapped the screen, pulling up the relevant footage.

“We found this clip,” Jongho explained, “It was taken the day before the police discovered the drugs. It shows an employee bringing two cream-colored bags to your office—bags with wood samples inside.”

You leaned closer to the screen, watching the semi-grainy security footage play out. There you were, sitting at your desk, while one of the employees approached, two nondescript bags in hand. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You accepted the bag, placed it on the desk, and resumed your work.

But then your eyes caught something unusual.

“He’s wearing gloves,” you muttered, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

"Exactly," Jongho replied, his voice low but confident. "That’s what caught our attention. Wearing sterile gloves to deliver wood samples? That’s not standard."

Yeosang leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he focused on the details of the footage. "It’s certainly not typical. Most people don’t wear gloves unless they’re handling something delicate, hazardous, or… they don’t want their fingerprints on it."

San clenched his jaw beside you, his hand resting on the table as he processed the implications. "Who is this employee?" he asked Jongho and Yena, though his gaze stayed fixed on the screen.

Yena stepped forward. "I’ve seen him before—he works in logistics, occasionally helping with deliveries. I believe his name is Jang Yohan. But I’ve never seen him wear gloves like that. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now… it feels off."

"It wasn’t just wood samples in that bag, was it?" you asked quietly, almost to yourself. The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. "That’s how they did it. Whoever set me up had him plant the drugs in that bag—wearing gloves to avoid leaving his prints. My fingerprints are the only ones that would be found on it."

Yeosang leaned back in his chair, his mind clearly running through the possibilities. "It makes sense. They were careful—calculated. The gloves are the giveaway. It’s likely whoever hired him instructed him to use them for this exact reason."

San handed the tablet back to Jongho, a grim determination settling over his face. "This is exactly what we need to create doubt in the prosecution’s case," he said, his voice strong. "It doesn’t clear Y/N yet, but it raises serious questions about how the drugs ended up in her possession."

Hongjoong, who had been pacing while the video played, finally stopped to look at you. His eyes were intense but filled with that familiar protective instinct. "We need to trace this back to whoever orchestrated it," he said firmly. "If it’s Jaeyoon, we need proof. We need to dig into his finances, find out if he paid anyone off, and see who this employee is connected to. It’s the only way we’ll be able to prove that Y/N was framed."

You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest. A glimmer of hope began to break through the fog of anxiety. "Thank you," you said quietly to Jongho and Yena. "This could be the key we’ve been looking for."

Jongho offered a small, reassuring smile. "We’ll keep digging. There has to be more."

As they exited the room, the weight of the situation seemed a little lighter. You glanced at San, who was already gathering his thoughts for the next steps.

"This changes everything," he said softly, though there was an edge of fire in his voice. "We’re going to prove your innocence, Y/N. Whoever’s behind this isn’t going to get away with it."

For the first time in days, you felt a small measure of hope. It was far from over, but now you had something to fight with—a direction to move in.

The video footage had given you something solid—something that could cast doubt on the charges against you. Yet, the deeper question still gnawed at you: who was behind it all? Jaeyoon?

Hongjoong was already pacing again, his mind clearly racing, when he stopped abruptly and turned to you, San, and Yeosang.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice sharper with a sudden realization. “That employee—the one who handed you the bag with the wood samples. What exactly did he say when he gave it to you?”

You frowned, trying to recall the details of that day. "He said he would come back later to collect the bag after I’d reviewed the samples. I didn’t think much of it at the time—just normal procedure."

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And did he ever come back to get it?”

You nod your head. “Yes, I had it sitting on my desk to review it later as there was ample time before the deadline to approve it. He took it while I wasn't there. If I remember correctly, he told Yena that he mixed up the samples.”

San’s gaze snapped toward Hongjoong, who looked deep in thought. Slowly, Hongjoong walked back to his desk, picking up a photo that had been part of the evidence submitted by the prosecution. It was a picture of the drugs found in your car—specifically, the bags they had been placed in.

He stared at the picture for a long moment before grabbing a pen from his desk. Without a word, he drew a line across the image, right above a very noticeable purple mark on the bag. Then, he turned back to you.

“When you received the bag of wood samples,” Hongjoong began slowly, “did you notice anything unusual about it?”

Your mind raced back to that moment. It had been a normal day, and you were preoccupied with your work. But now, with the intensity of everything, you tried to remember.

“There was… a mark on one of the bags,” you said, furrowing your brow as the memory came into focus. “A black or purple ink mark.”

Hongjoong nodded, lifting the photograph up to eye level. "Look closely at this picture—the one of the drugs found in your car."

You leaned in, your eyes scanning the photo until they settled on the same purple mark that you’d just remembered. Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces began to fall into place.

“It’s the same bag,” San said, his voice tight with realization. “The exact same bag we see in the footage.”

Hongjoong nodded, his expression grim. “That employee came back for the bag because he wanted to switch out the wood samples for the drugs. The purple mark connects the bag found in your car with the one you were given in the office.”

Yeosang leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the table as his sharp mind began piecing it together. “This means whoever set this up planned it meticulously. They planted the drugs in the same bag that you’d innocently handled with the wood samples, ensuring your fingerprints were on it. When the police found it, there’d be no question—it would appear like you’d been in possession of it the entire time.”

You sank back in your chair, a mix of anger and disbelief coursing through you. “This was all calculated,” you murmured. “They knew exactly what they were doing.”

San’s face hardened, a new determination sparking in his eyes. "We have a direct link now. This bag connects the planted drugs to the employee who handed it to you. It’s evidence that can start to unravel their case against you."

Hongjoong crossed his arms, the gears of his mind turning. “If we can find out who this employee is connected to, we’ll have the leverage we need. I’m willing to bet everything that Jaeyoon is involved. We just need to follow the trail.”

Yeosang nodded in agreement. “The bag, the gloves, the purple mark... it’s all pointing toward a deliberate setup. We just need to dig deeper into the employee’s background, see who’s pulling the strings.”

San turned to you, his expression softer now but no less serious. "We’re getting closer, Y/N. This is the break we needed."

You met his gaze, feeling a flicker of hope return. It wasn’t over yet—not by a long shot—but with this new piece of evidence, you were finally beginning to see a way through the darkness.

-×-×-×-

2 weeks later

The courtroom was quieter this time, but the tension was even more palpable than before. You sat beside San at the defense table, your fingers gripping the edge of the chair. Across the aisle, the prosecutor shuffled through his papers, confident as ever. The employee—the one who had handed you the bags. Jang Yohan—was sitting at the witness stand, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

San was focused, calm, but you could feel the intensity radiating from him as he prepared to question the witness. Hongjoong sat a few rows behind you, his presence reassuring as always, while Yeosang was absent, working on other elements of the case. This was a critical moment, and everyone knew it.

The judge entered, and the room stood in unison. After the usual formalities, the hearing began. The prosecutor wasted no time presenting the case, confidently restating that the evidence was clear: you had been found in possession of illegal narcotics, your fingerprints were on the bags, and the prosecution would show that you were guilty of the charges.

Then it was time for San to present your defense. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate as he approached the judge.

"Your Honor," San began, his voice steady and commanding, "new evidence has come to light since our last hearing, which I believe will cast significant doubt on the charges against my client. We have footage that shows my client receiving the bags containing the drugs, but there’s more to it than that."

You couldn't help but find San extremely attractive. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks... focus, Y/N.

The judge’s eyes sharpened with interest. "Proceed, Mr. Choi."

San gestured toward the screen where the footage would be displayed. As the security video played, the room grew silent. You could see yourself sitting at your desk, accepting the bag from the employee. Everyone watched intently as the employee, conspicuously wearing sterile gloves, handed the bags over with care.

After the footage ended, San spoke again. "As you can see, the employee, Mr. Jang here, who delivered the bag at that time was wearing gloves. We found this suspicious, and upon further investigation, we discovered that the bag in question—both the one delivered in my client’s office and the one found in her car—has a unique identifying mark."

San held up a printed image of the bag, with the purple ink mark circled clearly in the photograph. "This very evident purple mark is present on both the bag from the footage and the one seized by the police. My client’s fingerprints were found on the bag because she handled it while inspecting wood samples," San explained. "We believe that Mr. Jang, under instruction, delivered the bag intentionally so that Ms. L/N's fingerprints would easily be all over it. We also have the footage of Mr. Jang coming back to Ms. L/N's office to get the bags hours later, wearing sterile gloves yet again. Additionally, a large chunk of footage was deleted from multiple viewpoints around the office building the same day Ms. L/N received the wood samples. The footage from Ms. L/N's office can only be accessed by Ms. L/N herself and her secretary."

The judge leaned forward, her eyes on the witness stand where the employee sat, clearly uncomfortable. "So you’re suggesting this employee, Mr. Jang, was complicit in planting the drugs, Mr. Choi?"

San nodded. "Yes, Your Honor. And we intend to prove it."

The judge turned her attention to the prosecutor, who frowned but nodded for the employee to be questioned.

San approached the witness stand, his gaze locking onto Mr. Jang, who was already shifting nervously in his seat. He started with a calm but pointed question. "Can you explain why you were wearing gloves when delivering the bag?"

Mr. Jang hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the prosecutor for support before returning to San. "I—I don’t really remember," he stammered. "It was a normal delivery."

San didn’t let up. "Is it normal for you to wear hospital-grade sterile gloves when handling wood samples that are already placed in a bag?"

Mr. Jang’s face flushed. "Not usually, no."

"Yet, on this particular occasion, you chose to wear gloves?" San pressed.

Jang Yohan fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "I guess I—uh, I wasn’t thinking."

San’s expression remained cool as he continued. "Or were you instructed to wear them? Were you told to ensure your fingerprints weren’t left on the bag?"

His eyes widened, and you could see the panic starting to set in. "No, I wasn’t instructed—"

"Then how do you explain the purple mark on the bag?" San cut him off smoothly, pulling out another image of the bag found in your car, the mark clearly visible in both photos. "This is the same bag you delivered to my client, isn’t it?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. He glanced at the prosecutor again, but this time the prosecutor remained silent. His hesitation only deepened the growing suspicion in the room. "I don’t know," he muttered, avoiding eye contact.

San stepped closer, his tone still measured but carrying a steely edge. "You don’t know? Or you don’t want to say? Who instructed you to plant those drugs in Ms. L/N’s possession?"

The room was dead silent as everyone waited for his answer. The employee’s hands fidgeted in his lap, beads of sweat forming on his brow. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "No one… no one told me to plant anything." You inwardly sigh in utter frustration.

San took a step back, giving the employee a moment to breathe, but his eyes never left the man’s face. "You realize perjury is a serious crime, don’t you?"

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did. "Yes… yes, I know."

San nodded once, satisfied for now. He turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, this man’s refusal to provide a clear explanation, combined with the evidence of the identical bags and the suspicious nature of his actions, strongly suggests that someone instructed him to plant the drugs in Ms. L/N’s possession. We will continue to investigate this matter, but we believe this evidence raises significant doubt about my client’s involvement."

The judge glanced from San to the employee, her expression unreadable. "Mr. Choi, I agree that the evidence raises questions. We will continue to allow further investigation into this matter, but for now, we will adjourn until the next scheduled hearing. The court is dismissed."

You felt a small wave of relief wash over you as you heard the sound of the gavel. The case wasn’t over, not by a long shot, but you could see that San had managed to shift the momentum in your favor. As the courtroom slowly emptied, you turned to San, gratitude and hope mixing in your chest.

"Thank you," you whispered, knowing full well that without him, the situation would have looked far bleaker.

San gave you a small, reassuring smile. "We’re getting there, Y/N. Step by step."

-×-×-×-

2 days later

The café was quiet, the low hum of conversation and the clinking of coffee cups providing a subtle background noise. San and his bestfriend Wooyoung, a corporate lawyer, sat at a corner table, their eyes scanning the room as they waited.

Wooyoung adjusted his jacket casually, the tiny recording device hidden within the fabric. He leaned back in his chair, his expression calm and collected, while San checked the time on his phone.

A few minutes later, the café door swung open, and the employee, Mr. Jang Yohan—nervous, disheveled, and clearly rattled from the last court hearing—stepped inside. His eyes darted around anxiously before they landed on San and Wooyoung. With a deep breath, he approached the table, his steps hesitant.

"Mr. Choi," he greeted San with a shaky voice, "you wanted to speak with me?"

San nodded, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Yes, have a seat."

Jang Yohan glanced around once more before sitting down, his hands fidgeting on the table. Wooyoung remained silent, observing the man carefully, his expression unreadable.

San wasted no time. He leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but firm. "We know you’re involved in framing Y/N, but what we need now is the full story. Who ordered you to plant the drugs in her car?"

The employee swallowed hard, clearly nervous. His gaze shifted to Wooyoung, who gave him a polite but unreadable smile. The pressure was mounting, and it was clear that the employee was caught between fear and guilt.

"I—I've told you, no one ordered me to do anything," he stammered, his voice trembling.

Wooyoung, sensing the employee’s hesitation, leaned forward, his tone friendly but sharp. "Look, we’re not here to ruin your life. But if you don’t come clean, this is going to end badly for you. You don’t want to be the fall guy in this mess, do you?"

Jang Yohan blinked, his hands shaking slightly as he looked down at the table. His shoulders slumped under the weight of the situation.

"I… I was just following orders," he whispered finally, his voice barely audible.

San exchanged a quick glance with Wooyoung, sensing that they were finally breaking through.

"Whose orders?" San asked, his tone measured, giving the man space to speak without pressure.

He hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. He glanced around again, clearly afraid of being overheard. Wooyoung remained calm, his hand resting casually on the table, the recording device capturing every word.

"It was… Ms. L/N's mother-in-law," the employee said, his voice shaking. "She… she approached me. She told me to place the drugs in Y/N’s car. She said it was the only way to stop the divorce and protect their family. She said she would have my kids expelled from their schools if I didn't listen. She also paid me off, and I—I didn’t know what else to do... I worked very hard to put my two children in a decent school, and one of them in guitar lessons."

The air around the table seemed to freeze as the words hung there. San’s expression didn’t change, but inside, a surge of anger and determination flared. This was the confirmation they needed.

"Jaeyoon’s mother, Mrs. Baek," San repeated, his voice carefully controlled. "She orchestrated all of this?"

Jang Yohan nodded quickly, looking down at his lap as if ashamed of his role. "Yes. She said her son told her there were no security camera's in Ms. L/N's office so there was no way I would get caught. They told me to delete the other footage of me moving about the building. I never wanted to do this."

Wooyoung leaned back slightly, giving the employee a sympathetic look. "And now, here you are, being dragged into a legal mess that could ruin your life."

He nodded, his face pale. "I didn’t know it would go this far. I just… I just did what she asked. I was scared of my kids' lives getting ruined."

San leaned back as well, keeping his expression neutral. "Well, you’ve just confessed to a crime. But here’s the thing—we’re willing to help you. If you cooperate with us, we can protect you and get you out of this. Your kids will not be affected in any way. But you’ll need to testify in court. You’ll need to tell the truth."

Jang Yohan looked up, his eyes wide with fear but also relief. "You’ll… you’ll help me?"

Wooyoung nodded, offering a small smile. "We’ll make sure you’re protected. But you have to stick to the truth, no matter what happens."

He nodded quickly, looking like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I’ll do it. I’ll tell the truth. I don’t want any more trouble. I just want a good life for my kids."

San and Wooyoung stood up, the deal made. As they left the café, Wooyoung adjusted his jacket again, the recording safely stored. The confession was all there, captured and ready to be used in court.

As they walked toward the car, San turned to Wooyoung, his expression relieved but still serious. "That was risky, but it worked."

Wooyoung grinned, patting his jacket lightly. "Sometimes a little pressure does wonders."

San nodded, his mind already moving to the next steps. This was the turning point they needed. The truth was finally coming to light, and now, with the employee’s confession and the evidence in hand, they could start dismantling the case against you.

-×-×-×-

1 week later

The courtroom buzzed with anticipation as people filled the seats, journalists whispering to one another and spectators craning their necks to get a better view of the proceedings.

You sat beside San, your pulse racing as you watched the judge take her seat. This was it—the moment where everything could finally come to light. San had been relentless, and now the confession that could clear your name was about to be delivered.

The employee who had played such a pivotal role in your framing sat nervously at the witness stand, fidgeting as the prosecutor paced in front of him. Across the room, you could see the prosecutor’s frustration—this wasn’t going to go the way they had hoped. San, calm and composed as ever, sat back in his chair, waiting for his moment.

After the preliminary questions from the prosecution, it was San’s turn. He stood up, buttoning his jacket before walking toward the witness stand, his presence commanding the room. Jang Yohan avoided eye contact, clearly uneasy but ready to confess what he had done.

San didn’t waste any time. He stopped directly in front of the witness stand and addressed the employee with a calm, measured voice. "You’ve already testified that you were the one who delivered the bag to Ms. L/N. Now, I want you to tell this court exactly what you told me. Who ordered you to place the drugs in her car?"

The courtroom fell silent, every eye on the employee. He glanced nervously toward the prosecutor before finally speaking.

"It was Mrs. Baek, Ms. L/N's mother-in-law," the employee admitted, his voice trembling. "She told me to do it. She… she said it was to stop the divorce, that if I didn’t help, her family would be ruined. She threatened to have my kids expelled from their school, and she paid me a lot of money, too."

Gasps rippled through the courtroom, and the judge raised a brow in interest. San continued, his expression neutral but firm.

"So, Ms. L/N's soon-to-be ex-husband's mother orchestrated the entire plan to frame Ms. L/N for drug possession and distribution?" San asked, his voice steady.

The employee nodded, his face pale. "Yes. She paid me to plant the drugs in Ms. L/N's car. I didn’t want to, but she… she said I had no choice. She promised I wouldn’t get in trouble if I helped her."

San turned to the judge, his tone shifting to one of firm conviction. "Your Honor, this confession clearly establishes that my client has been framed by her ex-in-law's family. This entire case against Ms. L/N has been a deliberate attempt to discredit her and force her into submission."

The judge’s gaze moved from San to the prosecutor, who looked visibly shaken by the turn of events. The entire courtroom felt the weight of what had just been revealed.

"I request," San continued, his voice growing stronger, "that the court issue a subpoena for the financial records of Mr. Baek Jaeyoon’s family. If this court examines their transactions, I am confident we will find evidence of payments made to individuals—perhaps even this very employee—proving that this was a calculated scheme to frame my client."

The judge looked thoughtful, leaning back in her chair. She glanced at the prosecutor, who was still recovering from the bombshell of the confession.

The prosecutor rose, clearly scrambling for control. "Your Honor, while the testimony is damning, we must be cautious about making broad accusations without hard evidence. There is no direct proof connecting the Baek family finances to any payments made in relation to this case."

San didn’t miss a beat. "That is precisely why I’m requesting access to their financial records. We have the employee’s confession, and now we need to follow the money trail. If Baek Jaeyoon’s mother orchestrated this, the payments will be there. This court needs to see the full picture before passing any judgment on my client."

The judge tapped her fingers lightly on the bench, her eyes shifting between the prosecutor and San. After a long moment, she spoke.

"Mr. Choi’s argument is compelling. Given the testimony we’ve just heard, I am inclined to allow the request for a financial investigation into the Baek family. The court will issue a subpoena for the necessary records, and a thorough examination will be conducted."

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The tension in the room eased slightly, but the stakes remained high. The judge nodded toward San, signaling that he had the floor.

"I also request, Your Honor," San added, "that the charges against Ms. L/N be dropped while pending the results of this investigation. With this new testimony, there is significant doubt about her involvement, and keeping her under suspicion serves no purpose."

The judge paused again, thinking it over, then turned back to the prosecutor. "Does the prosecution wish to oppose this request?"

The prosecutor, still reeling from the confession, reluctantly shook his head. "No, Your Honor. We will await the results of the investigation."

With a sharp rap of the gavel, the judge made her decision. "The court grants the request for a financial investigation into the Baek family and suspends the charges against Ms. L/N pending the outcome. This hearing is adjourned."

The courtroom buzzed with murmurs of excitement and shock as the judge exited. You let out a long breath, feeling lighter for the first time in what felt like forever. San turned to you, his expression softening as he met your eyes.

"We’re not done yet," he said quietly, "but we’re closer than we’ve ever been."

You nodded, relief and gratitude flooding through you. The truth was finally starting to emerge, and now, with the financial investigation underway, it was only a matter of time before the entire web of lies unraveled.

-×-×-×-

1 week later

The atmosphere in the courtroom was electric with anticipation. Journalists lined the back rows, cameras flashing as they caught glimpses of the key figures entering.

Jaeyoon and his family sat on one side of the room, their expressions tense and cold. Across from them, you sat with San, your heart pounding as the final pieces of the puzzle came together. This was the moment you had been waiting for—the culmination of everything you’d fought so hard for.

Your family, finally here to support you, sat behind you, their presence a welcome comfort in this fraught situation. They had never believed you before and hadn't supported you at all, but you couldn’t help but not care today. You felt good today.

The judge took her seat at the bench, her sharp eyes scanning the room as she called the court to order. The tension was palpable as the final hearing began. This time, Jaeyoon and his family were the ones on trial, and you could feel the shift in the room—the power dynamic was no longer against you.

San stood up, his movements calm and measured as he approached the bench. He held a folder in his hand, the evidence that would finally expose Jaeyoon and his family for their crimes.

"Your Honor," San began, his voice steady and commanding, "the financial records that were subpoenaed have revealed a deeply concerning pattern of illegal transactions made by Mr. Baek Jaeyoon and his family. Over the past several months, large sums of money have been wired from Mr. Baek Jaeyoon’s personal account to an influential politician, Yoon Daechul. These funds were used to facilitate the procurement of illegal narcotics, which were then planted in Ms. L/N’s possession as part of a scheme orchestrated by Mr. Baek’s mother."

A murmur rippled through the courtroom as San presented the financial records, each one showing the repeated wire transfers. The judge’s expression remained neutral, but there was a spark of interest in her eyes as she leaned forward to examine the documents.

San continued, his voice unwavering. "The money trail is clear—each payment corresponds with a significant political favor or action, all of which led to the acquisition and placement of the drugs. This politician acted as a middleman, using his connections to secure the narcotics that were used to frame my client. The Baek family attempted to cover their tracks, but the records don’t lie."

The judge turned her attention to the prosecutor, who looked visibly rattled by the developments. "Does the prosecution have anything to say regarding these findings?"

The prosecutor stood, his expression stiff as he shook his head. "No, Your Honor. The evidence speaks for itself."

The judge nodded, then turned her gaze to Jaeyoon and his family. "Mr. Baek, your financial records clearly show that you and your family engaged in illegal transactions with a known politician in exchange for narcotics. This court will not tolerate such blatant disregard for the law, nor will it allow innocent individuals to be wrongfully accused as a result of your actions."

Jaeyoon’s mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her once imperious demeanor now replaced by visible anxiety. Jaeyoon himself remained stoic, but there was no mistaking the tension in his clenched jaw and stiff shoulders.

San took a breath before continuing. "Your Honor, I also want to address the broader context of this case. Ms. L/N and Mr. Baek Jaeyoon were once married, but their relationship took a dark turn. Ms. L/N sought a divorce after enduring emotional and physical harm at the hands of Mr. Baek. The situation escalated to such a degree that Ms. L/N was forced to file for a restraining order to protect herself."

He held up the restraining order for the court to see, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This was not a simple marital dispute. Mr. Baek inflicted harm on Ms. L/N, both physically and emotionally. She had no choice but to separate from him and take legal measures to ensure her own safety."

San’s eyes flicked toward you for a moment, offering a reassuring glance before he turned back to the judge. "This conspiracy is an extension of Mr. Baek’s attempts to control and manipulate Ms. L/N. His actions have gone beyond personal harm and escalated into a criminal scheme designed to ruin her reputation and destroy her life."

Jaeyoon’s face reddened with anger. He shot up from his seat, glaring at San. "That’s a lie!" he shouted, his voice shaking with fury. "I never laid a hand on her—she’s exaggerating everything to make herself look like the victim!"

The judge raised an eyebrow, her gaze hardening. "Mr. Baek, you will refrain from speaking unless addressed directly by the court."

Jaeyoon’s mother, unable to remain silent any longer, stood as well, her voice sharp and indignant. "Your Honor, this is nothing more than a slanderous attack on my family! That woman—" she pointed accusingly at you—"has been trying to ruin my son from the beginning! She never belonged in our family, and she couldn’t handle the pressure of being part of something bigger than herself. This restraining order is just her way of making herself look innocent!"

The judge’s gaze was ice-cold as she replied. "Mrs. Baek, the restraining order was granted based on documented evidence of harm and harassment. This court will not dismiss it as a fabrication."

Jaeyoon, sensing the growing tension between himself and his mother, suddenly snapped. "You know what? Fine! Yes, the money was wired. Yes, the drugs were planted, but it wasn’t my idea!" He turned to his mother, his expression hardening. "This whole thing started because of her. She couldn’t stand the idea of losing control, and she dragged me into this mess."

His mother gasped audibly. "Jaeyoon! How dare you—"

"It’s the truth, Mother!" Jaeyoon snapped, his voice filled with anger and bitterness. "You said we had to get rid of Y/N no matter what if she went through with the divorce, that she was a threat to our reputation. You were the one who wanted to frame her! I went along with it, yes, but you were the mastermind!"

The courtroom buzzed with whispers and murmurs as Jaeyoon threw his mother under the bus. His mother, for the first time, looked truly rattled, her confident demeanor cracking. She opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words.

The judge raised her hand, silencing the courtroom. "Regardless of who initiated the scheme, it is clear that both of you participated in an illegal conspiracy to harm Ms. L/N. The court is not interested in your blame-shifting; we are here to ensure justice is served. You will both be held accountable."

The judge turned back to you. "Ms. L/N, given the overwhelming evidence presented in this case, I hereby dismiss all charges against you. The court recognizes that you were the victim of an elaborate and malicious scheme. You are free to go."

Relief washed over you, your heart soaring as the weight of the past few months lifted from your shoulders. San’s hand brushed against yours beneath the table, a quiet gesture of support and reassurance. Behind you, your family let out sighs of relief, your mother placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

But the judge wasn’t finished. Her gaze returned to Jaeyoon and his mother, her voice now firm. "Baek Jaeyoon, your mother, and any individuals involved in this conspiracy will now face charges of fraud, bribery, and conspiracy to commit a crime. This court will see to it that justice is served. You are hereby ordered to remain in custody pending further investigation."

The gavel struck the bench, and the courtroom erupted into a flurry of activity. Reporters scrambled to document the fallout as Jaeyoon and his family were escorted from the courtroom in disgrace, their faces pale and drawn.

You stood slowly, still processing the magnitude of what had just happened. San was beside you in an instant, his hand resting gently on your back. "It’s over," he said quietly, his voice filled with quiet triumph. "You’re free."

You turned to face him, tears welling in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice breaking slightly. "I couldn’t have done this without you."

San smiled softly, his eyes warm. "You didn’t have to. We were always in this together."

As you left the courtroom, surrounded by your family and the people who had fought beside you, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

Justice had been served, and for the first time in months, you could breathe freely, knowing that the truth had finally prevailed.

-×-×-×-

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the city as you drove toward Saturn & Co., your heart lighter than it had been in months. The events of the trial were still fresh in your mind—the relief of being exonerated, the weight of the accusations finally lifting off your shoulders.

Today, you were returning to the company you had built, ready to step back into your role as CEO with renewed purpose after weeks of suffering.

As your car approached the building, you noticed something different. A large crowd of employees stood gathered outside the front entrance, their faces lit with excitement. You slowed the car, your curiosity piqued, and as you pulled into your parking spot, the realization hit you—they were all waiting for you.

The moment you stepped out of the car, the sound of cheering erupted from the crowd. It caught you off guard, the sheer volume of their support overwhelming. Your heart swelled with emotion as you took in the scene in front of you.

"Welcome back, Ms. L/N!" someone shouted from the crowd, and soon, the voices of your employees echoed the sentiment, their cheers blending together in a wave of affection and celebration.

Your eyes landed on a large banner strung up across the front of the building. In bold, colorful letters, it read:

"Welcome Back to Our Beloved CEO! We’re So Proud of You!"

Tears pricked at your eyes as you stood there, momentarily stunned by the outpouring of love. These were the people who had stood by you throughout everything—who had never lost faith in you even when the world seemed determined to tear you down. They had believed in your innocence, and now, they were here to celebrate your return.

A soft hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned to see Yena standing beside you, her face glowing with pride. "We wanted to do something special for you," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "You’ve been through so much, and we’re just so happy to have you back where you belong."

You smiled at her, your heart full of gratitude. "Thank you, Yena," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "This means more than I can put into words."

You took a deep breath and began walking toward the entrance, the crowd parting to let you through. Your employees clapped and cheered as you made your way up the steps, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace and belonging.

As you reached the front door, you paused for a moment, turning back to the crowd. "Thank you," you said, your voice carrying over the noise. "I’m so grateful for all of you. Saturn & Co. isn’t just a company—it’s a family. And I’m proud to be your CEO."

The applause grew louder, and you smiled, feeling the warmth of their support wrap around you like a protective shield. With renewed energy, you stepped into the building, ready to lead once more.

Inside, the familiar sights and sounds of the office greeted you—people bustling about, the hum of conversation, the scent of freshly brewed coffee. It felt like home, and after everything you had been through, you realized just how much this place—and these people—meant to you.

As you walked toward your office, you passed by employees who smiled at you, offering words of encouragement and congratulations. By the time you reached your desk, you felt lighter, more hopeful than you had in months.

Sitting down, you looked out over the city through the large windows, a smile playing on your lips. The battle had been long and hard, but you had emerged on the other side stronger than ever.

A knock was heard at your door before Yena stepped in, a bright smile on her face that caused one to form on yours too. "Ms. L/N... the surprises aren't done yet!"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really?"

"Mhmm, you have a dinner reservation with Attorney Choi San at the Signiel Hotel tonight," she says with a smirk, well aware of the feelings you had for San. "I also booked a suite for the two of you at the hotel."

You blushed, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "Yena... you're too much."

"I know!" she beamed. "I know you get off only at six thirty today, so I already packed a little bag for you. I also chose your outfit for tonight as well and I'll do your hair and makeup too!"

-×-×-×-

When you arrived at the restaurant in the hotel, your heart raced when you noticed San seated at a booth in the corner, looking at the Seoul skyline, the sun setting in the distance. He was wearing beige pants and a navy blue shirt with a couple of buttons undone. You were also wearing navy blue, and knowing Yena, you knew she purposely got you this dress to match with San.

As you moved closer to San, the sound of your heels caught his attention, and he turned to look at you.

He stands up, taking your hand in his. He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a delicate kiss at the back of it. "Y/N..." he greets, "you look gorgeous tonight."

You blush. "Thank you, so do you, Sannie."

San giggles. "Shall we?"

You take a seat across San, and he pours a glass of wine for you. "How was work? Yena told me your employees surprised you today." You nod your head, taking a sip of the sweet wine while you made conversation about the events of your day. San listened to you so attentively, his eyes full of adoration.

The waitress brought the food and you noticed it had some of your favorite dishes; ones that you told San you loved weeks ago. You felt really touched that he remembered your likes and dislikes.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, occasionally talking about the food or an old memory while you both watched the sun set and the light from the buildings around became more bright.

After dinner, the two of you went to your suite at the hotel, putting on a romcom movie and sipping on some more wine. Throughout the movie, you were cuddled up to San's side, your arms wrapped around his muscular arm. You felt very at peace. You felt so safe with San.

Once the movie ended, you stretched your arms, getting up on your feet. You walk towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, placing a hand on the glass while you looked at the beautiful night view of Seoul.

San made his way towards you, pausing right behind you. "It's so pretty," you say in awe, turning around to look at him. The strap of your dress was nearly falling off your shoulder, catching San's attention.

San thought you were glowing. You looked so beautiful.

He took two slow steps towards you, towering over your smaller form. His eyes roamed all over your face. It seemed like he wanted to say something but was hesitant to.

"What's wrong, Sannie?" you ask, hand reaching up to cup his face. He placed a hand over yours while leaning into your touch. He was looking intensely in your eyes like as if he was looking for some signs.

"Can I kiss you?" San asks in the softest tone he could muster.

You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up. "I'd like that."

San brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, making you lean into his touch.

He leans down closer to you, brushing his lips against yours before gently kissing you. It felt just like how he kissed you at his place — soft, warm, and pure.

Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. You caught his bottom lip in between your teeth, giving it a light bite. San let out a faint moan at your actions, pressing his body against yours.

When San pulled away to breathe, you took the opportunity to kiss his neck, gently sucking and licking at his skin, making sure to leave a mark on him Your other hand traced the expanse of his shoulder before moving down his chest until you reached the button of his shirt that wasn't undone. You place your hand flat on his chest, and you could feel his heart beating fast.

You pulled away to look at him. "Can I?" you ask, eyes moving between his and the buttons of his shirt.

"Yes, please," he responds, and you slowly move your fingers to unbutton his shirt, his muscular chest and abs coming into view.

San swiftly swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal-style to the loveseat in the very corner of the living room. As soon as he sat down with you in his arms, you moved to straddle his lap. You gently push the navy blue shirt off his body, exposing his bare upper body to you.

Oh. My. Goodness. Holy. Fuck.

Now, this was a view you could never get enough of: San, half naked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, with the Seoul skyline in the background.

San smirked, extending his muscular arms along the top of the backrest of the loveseat. "Impressed?" He asks, titling his head slightly, a smug look on his face while he watched your eyes take in the sight of his body that he worked very hard on despite his hectic attorney schedule.

You leaned in to place a lingering kiss on his lips before you let yourself sit down completely on his lap, feeling his hard dick beneath you, the only barrier being the material of your panties and his pants.

You mimicked his smirk, straightening your body, reaching for the hem of your dress, taking it off right in front of his eyes, letting it pool on the ground, leaving you in just your lacey panties.

San's jaw dropped.

He shamelessly checked you out, eyes noticing the muscles on your thighs, his mind imagining his face getting squeezed by them.

If you thought San was hard enough beneath you before, he was even harder now.

"Impressed?" You ask, repeating his words, your hands running through his soft black hair before resting on his shoulders. You leaned in to kiss him again, grinding down on his hard clothed dick.

San was about to lose his mind. "Very," he practically growls.

You noticed he hadn't touched you in any way yet. You reach for his hands, bringing them up to your chest so he could grab your tits. When he looked at you, you nodded at him, giving him consent to touch you.

San brought your lips back to his in a hungry kiss while you continued to grind on his clothed dick. His hands played with your boobs, giving them a light massage, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers. You let out a moan in his mouth, and you could feel your panties sticking to your wet folds.

You slightly pulled away, resting your forehead against his. "San..." You say his name breathlessly. Your head spinning from the intensity of the kiss. Your clit was throbbing, begging to be touched in any way. "San, please."

"Please what, baby?" San murmurs, his hands moving up and down your thighs. The pet name from his lips caused a chill to run down your spine.

"I want you right now," you say, pressing your core down harder on his clothed dick.

"Want me how?" He knew the answer, but he wanted to tease you.

You lean down to kiss his neck, dragging kisses up to his earlobe, placing a soft kiss beneath his ear. "Attorney Choi... Choi San..." you whisper in his ear in a low tone. "I want you to fuck me right now."

San's hands moved up your thigh to your heated core. He touched you over the fabric of your panties, smirking at the wet patch he could feel. "So needy for me, hmm?"

He looked you straight in the eye when his hands moved to one side of your hip, ripping that side of your panties, repeating the same thing on the other side. You gasped at his actions, and he tossed the scraps onto your dress on the floor.

"I really liked those panties," you say with a light chuckle, moving your body up to make yourself more comfortable, but San stopped you midway; your tits were right in front of his face.

"I'll get you a whole pack of them later," he murmurs in a low tone. "But could you stay like this for me, hmm?"

He took your nipple in his mouth while his finger swiped your slit to collect the wetness there. He rubbed your slick onto your clit, using it as lube to better rub your clit.

"San, fuckkk," you moaned when his finger moved faster on your clit. Without any warning, he pushed two fingers inside your wet pussy, wasting no time in pumping his fingers in and out while his thumb rubbed your clit in circular motions.

San pulled his fingers out, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He sucked his fingers clean before picking you up and taking you to the bedroom of the suite. He dropped you onto the bottom of the bed so that your legs were dangling off the edge.

San unbuckled his belt, tossing it aside, his pants and briefs off following shortly after. You marveled at the sight of him nude in front of you, your hips bucked up involuntarily at the mere sight of him. He dropped to his knees, his hands moving your legs to rest over his shoulder. He wasted no time in licking your slit, moaning at your sweet taste. He attached his mouth to your clit, licking and sucking the nub while he slowly introduced two fingers in again.

Your thighs were squeezing his head, just like he imagined, and your loud moans prompted him to pump his fingers even faster. You were so lost in your pleasure until your orgasm came crashing, and you came all over San's fingers.

You took a minute to compose yourself before you sat up straight, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. You pumped his length, your thumb rubbing circles on his slit. San moaned you name out before taking your lips in his, his tongue brushing across your lower lip. You opened your mouth slightly to give him more access, but he pulled away and stopped your hand from jerking him off further. "You're making me feel too good, sweetheart... I might just bust right now."

"Let me ride you then," you say to him.

San nods, moving to lie down in the middle of the bed. You hovered over his cock, leaning down to kiss him. "I'm on the pill," you let him know before sinking down onto his length.

You started moving down on his dick at a slow pace, wanting to take the time to familiarize yourself with the way his cock felt in you. You sunk down even more until you bottomed out. You gave yourself some time to adjust to his size before you increased the pace, bouncing on his dick.

His hands moved to cup your ass, helping you slam harder on him. "God, Y/N, I-I swear... you're so fucking hot taking my dick like that," he growls.

The room was filled with your combined moans and the sound of skin clapping, and you watched San's eyebrows furrow while his tongue darted out to wet his laps, his upper teeth sinking into his bottom lip while he moaned.

San loved the way your tits bounced and the way you threw your head back, but he wanted to take control now. Placing his hands on your hips, he stopped you from moving and quickly flipped you onto your back.

"Let me take care of you, yeah?" He slammed his cock in and out of you in a rapid pace, his hands interlocking with yours while he fucked you. He was repeatedly hitting your spot, and you felt the coil of pleasure tighten in your stomach. You tried to move your hands to touch him, but his hands held yours down with a little force, the gesture causing your clit to throb yet again.

"San... I... It's... I'm gonna..." you struggle to say. Your body felt like it was on fire.

"Let it go, baby, cum for me," San encourages, hand reaching down to rub your sensitive clit. Few more thrusts and an intense orgasm washes over your body, causing your body to shake while you chanted out his name.

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost there," San lets you know. He quickened his pace even more before coming to a stop, his dick pulsating in you when he reached his climax.

San slowly pulled out before collapsing next to you. He reached for your sticky, sweaty body, pulling you to his chest while you both tried to calm your breathing.

He kisses your forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Mhmm," you mumble, "It was so good." San chuckles, holding you close to him. "Hey, San?"

"Hmm?"

"You know I have feelings for you, right?" you confess.

"Oh really? I didn't know that!" he teases, and you lightly smack his chest. "Of course, I think everyone knows that now. But Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I have feelings for you too, right?" he admits, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter around wildly.

"I... I wasn't too sure," you murmur honestly, "I felt like there was so much going on and... I don't know, I thought that you might like me, but I've been... too much lately, these past few months."

San strokes the back of your head. "And? If anything, these past few months where you were so vulnerable and yet so brave, so strong, has made me admire you even more. My feelings for you have only kept growing since the first time you stepped into my office. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to show you the life you deserve."

"You do?" you ask in a soft tone, your heart racing at his confession.

"Yes, sweetheart," he chuckles lightly. "But I don't want to rush into anything. I know these past few months have been hard for you. I want you to take as much time you want or need before you decide that I'm the one you want."

You hum, thinking about his words, appreciating how considerate he's always been. "I only want you, San," you turn to look at him, "I'll always only want you. I want to take things slow," you mentally laugh, because you literally just had sex with him, "but I want to do it all with you."

San's smile widens, his dimples deepening as warmth fills his eyes. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering like a promise. "You have no idea how much that means to me," he whispers, voice hushed with emotion. "I never thought I'd find someone who sees me like you do."

Your heart swells, and you pull him into a sweet kiss, one where you both can't stop smiling. The way his lips move against yours feels like a silent vow, like this moment is the beginning of something more—something real.

When you break apart, you giggle softly, your foreheads resting together. "Let's take a shower together and then cuddle to sleep, hmm?"

San chuckles, his breath brushing your skin. "You sure you're not trying to tempt me again?" His eyes twinkle with playful mischief.

You pretend to think about it, biting your lip. "Maybe… or maybe I just want to hold you close and feel safe in your arms."

San’s grin softens into something more intimate, his gaze steady on yours. "Then let me take care of you, the way you deserve. Always."

As you both make your way to the shower, hand in hand, the future doesn’t feel so uncertain anymore. For the first time in a long while, you're no longer weighed down by the past or the fear of what might happen next. All that matters is this—San, you, and the love that's beginning to blossom between you.

And as the warm water cascades over you both, washing away all the worries of the day, you know deep down, you're exactly where you belong.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Brinkwhump Linkdump

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

Once again, I find myself arriving at the weekend with a giant backlog of links, triggering a linkump, the 15th such dumpage, a variety-pack of miscellany for your weekend. Here's the previous editions:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Let's start with the latest incredible news from KPMG, the accounting and auditing giant that is relied upon as a source of ground truth for a truly terrifying share of the world's economy. KPMG has a well-deserved reputation for incompetence and corruption. They first came on my radar in 2001 when they sent a legal threat to a blogger for linking to their website without permission:

https://memex.craphound.com/2001/12/05/reason-4332442-not-to-ask/

The actual link was to KPMG's corporate anthem, which remains, to this day, a banger:

https://web.archive.org/web/20040428063826/http://chkpt.zdnet.com/chkpt/uknewsita/http://anthems.zdnet.co.uk/anthems/kpmg.mp3

Don't miss the DJ remixes (and the Nokia ringtone!) that the internet thoughtfully provided when KPMG decided that it didn't want the world to know about "Our Vision of Global Strategy":

https://web.archive.org/web/20011128153057/http://corporateanthems.raettig.org/

Now all this is objectively very funny, a relic of the old, good internet from one of its moments of glory, but KPMG? They were already enshittifying, even in 2001, and the enshittification only intensified thereafter. Nearly every accounting scandal of the past quarter-century has KPMG in it somewhere, from con-artists selling exhausted oil fields to rubes:

https://www.desmog.com/2021/06/03/miller-energy-kpmg-auditors-oil-fraud/

To killer nursing homes that hire KPMG to audit its books – and to advise it on how to defeat safety audits and murder your grandma:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/09/dingo-babysitter/#maybe-the-dingos-ate-your-nan

They're the architects of Microsoft's tax-evasion plot:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-irs-decided-to-get-tough-against-microsoft-microsoft-got-tougher

And they were behind Canada's dysfunctional covid contact-tracing app, which never worked, but generated tens of millions in billings to the government of Canada, who used KPMG to hire programmers at $1,500/day, plus KPMG's 30% commission:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/31/mckinsey-and-canada/#comment-dit-beltway-bandits-en-canadien

KPMG's most bizarre scandal is literally stranger than fiction. The company bribed SEC personnel help its own accountants cheat on ethics exams. The corrupt officials were then given high-paid jobs at KPMG:

https://www.nysscpa.org/news/publications/the-trusted-professional/article/sec-probe-finds-kpmg-auditors-cheating-on-training-exams-061819

I mean it when I say this is stranger than fiction. I included it as a plot-point in my new finance crime novel The Bezzle (now a national bestseller!), and multiple readers have written to me since the book came out a couple weeks ago to say that they thought I was straining their credulity by making up such an outrageous scandal:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

But all of that is just scene-setting (and a gratuitous plug for my book) for the latest KPMG scandal, which is, possibly, the most KPMG scandal of all KPMG scandals. The Australian government hired KPMG to audit Paladin, a security contractor that oversees the asylum seekers the country locks up on one of its island gulags (yes, gulags, plural).

Ever since, Paladin has been the subject of a string of ghastly human rights scandals – the worst stuff imaginable, rape and torture and murder of adults and children. Paladin made AU423 million on this contract.

And here's the scandal: KPMG audited the wrong company. The Paladin that the Australia government paid KPMG to audit was based in Singapore. The Paladin that KPMG audited was a totally different company, based in Papua New Guinea, who already had a commercial relationship with KPMG. It was this colossal fuckup that led to the manifestly unfit Singaporean company getting nearly half a billion dollars in public funds:

https://www.theguardian.com/business/2024/feb/24/incredible-failure-kpmg-rejects-claims-it-assessed-the-wrong-company-before-423m-payment-to-paladin

KPMG denies this. KPMG denies everything, always. Like, they denied creating "power maps" of decision-makers in the Australian government to target with influence campaigns in order to win contracts like this one. Who knows, maybe, this one time, they're telling the truth? After all, the company whose employees gather to sing lyrics like these can't be all bad, right?

The time is now to lead the way, We share the same the idea That may win by the end of the day. Our strength is here to stay. Identity, one energy, One strategy, with sympathy. These are the words that will lead us into a new world.

https://everything2.com/title/KPMG+corporate+anthem

You may find it strange that I'm still carrying around the factoid that KPMG once threatened to crush a blogger for linking to its terrible corporate anthem, but that's just my "Memex Method," which helps me keep track of literally everything that seemed important to me through most of my adult life:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

One of my favorite quips from the very quotable Riley Quinn is that "leftists are cursed with object-permanence" – that is, we actually remember what just happened and use it to think about what's happening now. The Memex Method is object permanence for 20+ years worth of stuff. A lot of those deep archives never see use, but there's a surprising number of leading indicators buried in the stuff that happened in years gone by.

Take James Boyle's 2014, XKCD-style comic about the experience of driving a notional Apple car:

https://www.thepublicdomain.org/2014/11/07/apple-updates-a-comic/

Apple, it turns out, spent the next decade working on just such a car, and while that car has now been canceled, Boyle's comic correctly anticipates so much about the trajectory Apple's products took. It's uncannily accurate – real "don't invent the torment nexus"/"cyberpunk was a warning, not a suggestion" stuff:

https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/torment-nexus

But no matter how many times we insist that the torment nexus shouldn't be created, the boardrooms of end-stage capitalism continue to invent them. Take HP, the poster-child for enshittification, edging out even KPMG in the race to turn everything into a pile of shit. After years of tormenting people to punish them for wanting to print things, HP has announced a new service that so mustache-twirlingly evil that it lacks verisimilitude:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/02/hp-wants-you-to-pay-up-to-36-month-to-rent-a-printer-that-it-monitors/

Here's the pitch: HP will sell you a printer that you don't own. In addition to paying a monthly fee for your ink – which you pay no matter whether you print or not – you will also pay a monthly fee just for having HP's printer on your premises. You are absolutely, positively forbidden from using third-party ink in this printer, and must use HP's own ink, which sells for about $10,000/gallon.

But while you aren't allowed to use this printer in ways that are bad for HP's shareholders, HP is absolutely free to use the printer in ways that are bad for you. When you click through the signup agreement, you grand HP permission to surveil every document you print – and your home wifi network more generally – and to sell that data to anyone and everyone.

What's more, HP reserves the right to discipline you with punitive credit-card charges if you disconnect this printer from the internet, on the basis that doing so makes it harder for them to spy on your printer.

I'm sorry, this is just more torment nexus shit, the kind of thing you'd expect to drop on Apr 1, not Feb 29, but I guess this is where we are. I can only conjecture as to whether HP's businesses strategists are directly taking direction from my novella "Unauthorized Bread," or whether they're learning about it second-hand from a KPMG consultant who converted it to Powerpoint form and charged $1,500/day for the work:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

All of this cartoonish villainry is the totally foreseeable consequence of a culture of impunity, in which companies like HP and KPMG can rob, cheat, steal (and sometimes even kill) without consequence. This impunity is so pervasive that the exceptions – where a rich criminal faces real consequences – become touchstones: Enron, Arthur Anderson, Theranos, and, of course, FTX.

FTX was arguably the largest-scale corporate crime in world history, stealing more than $10 billion dollars, mostly from rubes sucked in by hype and Superbowl ads. When news that FTX founder and owner Sam Bankman-Fried was convicted of fraud and was in for a lengthy prison sentence made a huge stir, because criminals like SBF usually walk away from the wreckage with their hands in their pockets, whistling a jaunty tune.

One of the very best commentators on cryptocurrency scams generally and FTX/SBF in particular is Molly White, whose Web3 is Going Just Great feed is utterly indispensable. White's newsletter, "Citation Needed," dives deep into the wrangle of SBF's sentencing:

https://www.citationneeded.news/issue-52/

Bankman-Fried's parents – prominent law professors at top law schools – helped brief the court this week on their son's punishment. According to them, SBF faces 100 years in prison, but should be sentenced to 5.5-6.5 years at the most. Why? Because he is a vegan, who is not greedy, and feels remorse, and cares for individuals (recall that SBF presented himself as the avatar of the batshit "effective altruism" philosophy while privately admitting that he used this as a smokescreen).

The most bizarre note in the 100-page filing is SBF's mother declaring that her son is an "angel of mercy," apparently unaware of the grisly meaning of that term:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angel_of_mercy_(criminology)

America's prisons are a travesty and I wouldn't wish them on anyone, but that's not the argument SBF's parents are making; rather, they're arguing that their special boy doesn't deserve the treatment America metes out to poorer, less white people who merely steal hundreds or thousands of dollars. A crook who steals ten billion should be handled the way a casino handles a whale – with concierge service.

The problem is, there are so many of these remorseless, relentless crooks that there's no way we could scale up that white-glove treatment when we finally round 'em all up and make them pay. Writing for The American Prospect, Maureen Tkacik tells us about the ransomware attack that shut down America's pharmacy system last month:

https://prospect.org/health/2024-03-01-zoomer-hackers-shut-down-unitedhealthcare/

The attack brought down Change Healthcare, part of the monopolist Unitedhealth, which serves as the "pharmacy benefit manager" to a vast swathe of American pharmacies. PBM is one of those all-American finance scams, a middleman garlanded with performative complexity put there to make you feel stupid for asking why independent pharmacies all have to pay rent to this malicious, unaccountable – and now, manifestly incompetent – gang of crooks.

Tkacik's breakdown of this scam – and how it rendered Americans' ability to get the drugs they depend on to go on breathing – is characteristically brilliant. Tcacik is fast emerging as my favorite Explainer of Scams, a print version of John Oliver or Adam Conover. You may recall her work from my post last week on how private equity has taken a wrecking ball to America's hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/28/5000-bats/#charnel-house

I always try to finish these linkdumps with some upbeat news to carry you through the weekend, and this week brought two genuinely wonderful – and totally underreported – pieces of amazing news.

The first is that Starbucks has sued for peace in the war against its workers' unions. Hundreds of Starbucks stores have unionized in recent years, but not one of them had a contract. Instead, Starbucks had waged dirty war on their own workers, from denying gender-affirming care to unionized employees to simply shutting down whole stores after they voted to unionize:

https://www.cnbc.com/2022/06/14/starbucks-union-company-threatens-that-unionizing-could-jeopardize-gender-affirming-health-care.html

But the workers held fast and after years of this, Starbucks has caved, promising contracts for all unionized stores and an end to its campaign of terror against workers seeking to unionize more of its stores. In a postmortem for Jacobin, Eric Blanc rounds up "seven lessons from Starbucks workers' historic victory":

https://jacobin.com/2024/02/starbucks-sbwu-contract-bargaining/

This is the kind of listicle I can get behind. According to Blanc, the Starbucks unions won by deploying worker-to-worker organizing, a tactic that many of the new unions that are shaking up formerly impossible-to-organize jobsites are using (Blanc has a book about this coming from UC Press called "We Are the Union: How Worker-to-Worker Unionism Can Transform America," so he should know).

Other tactics that made the difference for Starbucks unions: new digital training and support tools and partnering with established unions for support and infrastructure. Blanc also calls out the success of "salting" – the venerable but largely disused tactic of union organizers applying for a job at a non-union shop in order to organize it.

Blanc also mentions government policy, including the outstanding work of NLRB general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo, a shrewd and committed tactician whose understanding of the technicalities of labor law have let her push for bold measures. For example, in Thrive Pet Care, Abruzzo is arguing that when a company refuses to bargain in good faith for a contract with its union, she can step in and order them to honor the terms of a contract at comparable unionized competitors until they produce a contract of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

Abruzzo is one of several smart, competent tacticians in the Biden administration who are working to kneecap corporate power. Another is Rohit Chopra, chair of the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau, who just announced another bold, important initiative that will help Americans fight corporate corruption and get a fair deal:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-03-01-public-option-credit-card-shopping/

Chopra is taking aim at credit-card comparison sites that purport to show you where you can get the best deal. If you're an affluent person who doesn't carry a balance, this might not matter to you, but if you're an average working stiff, high interest rates can gobble up a massive share of your paycheck. What's more, credit card margins are higher than they have ever been:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/blog/credit-card-interest-rate-margins-at-all-time-high/

The most expensive credit cards come from the big, monopolistic banks, but you wouldn't know it from the leaderboards produced by Credit Karma, NerdWallet, LendingTree, and Bankrate. All of these sites take bribes from the big banks to list their credit cards above those offered by credit unions – who are typically 10% cheaper than the big banks' cards.

The new CFPB rule prohibits this fraudulent ranking, but the Bureau is going even further. They're using their administrative powers to force banks to report their rates to the Bureau, which will publish them on a publicly funded, neutral website – what David Dayen calls "a public option" for shopping for credit cards.

This policy makes a perfect bookend to the last CFPB initiative I wrote about here: a rule that forces banks to allow you to transfer your account to a rival with a couple of simple clicks, importing all your history, payees, and everything else you need to switch to a better bank:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

Combine that ease of switching with reliable information on which banks will give you the best deal and you get something that will directly transfer millions and millions of dollars from giant, wildly profitable banks to low-income people who've been tricked into paying them punitive interest rates.

So that's it, this week's linkdump. I promised you I'd end on a high note, and I did it. The world may be full of all kinds of terrible things, but workers and regulators are scoring big, muscular victories in battles where the stakes are real and important. Have a great weekend – we've earned it.

And remember!

The time is now to lead the way, We share the same the idea That may win by the end of the day. Our strength is here to stay. Identity, one energy, One strategy, with sympathy. These are the words that will lead us into a new world.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/02/macedoine/#the-public-option

Image: Stacy (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/notahipster/4402860361/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[llamagoddessofficial]

Idk if someone else has already asked this, but what about a Birdtale au? Like Sans, Red, and Skull are either wild birds or live in an aviary or something like that. They would probably try to preen Mc and sing her courting songs

I did a harpy au ages ago but the recent fanart by @iridescent-serpent has made my 'i love birds' brain go AWOOGA. We're doing it again, folks; zoo edition this time.

Big, clawed, dangerous and scary bird monsters living in a big aviary since they have a habit of hunting down people.

Sans: A beautiful owl harpy with steely grey, blue and black markings that help him blend into blue-toned darkness. Since he's mostly nocturnal, he has two modes: day mode, and night mode.

In day mode spends pretty much every hour napping in his aviary, enjoying whatever patches of sun he finds; he's very cat-like, and he's worked up a reputation of being lazy thanks to his constant napping. Staff can actually go in and out of his enclosure if they're quiet, which is a big deal for a species as aggressive as a harpy. It's important they keep their distance from him to avoid disturbing him, though... he's tired, but he can still lash out with deadly precision. At night, he really acts like a cat. He's hunting, he's active and terrifying, he attacks with the intent to kill. You hear nothing, you see nothing, not even his eyelights. He blends in so seamlessly with the night that nobody dares go near his enclosure, there's few things as dangerous as an owl harpy at night.

... However, Mc is the exception. Like always. When she's around in the day, he'll sleep through pretty much everything she does. She isn't food or a threat, so why get up? He'll sleep even if she goes right up to him and grabs his wings- which she sometimes has to do, when she's looking him over for injuries or signs of illness. She does all of his medical checkups, and he seems to like the touching, if his purring is anything to go by. And at night, he just uses his incredible silence and camouflage to get up close and steal her keys. He has an eye for shiny things, and a taste for her flustered attention when she looks for him to get her shiny things back.

Red: Red is a big, stunning bird of prey harpy. Something resembling a hawk or eagle; and he's got the hawk foul temper, with a habit of biting and slashing at anyone who encroaches on his territory (enclosure). But a running joke at the aviary, in the same vein as that guy who's 'married' to a crane, is that Red is Mc's husband.

Red is an aggressive harpy who likes to hunt and fight. But he's also a showoff, and apparently, a complete romantic- he's made it clear that he's decided Mc is his mate. He lets her into his enclosure, and he shows all the courtship behaviours under the sun... he displays and shakes his wings, brings her gifts, puffs his feathers up, preens her hair, nuzzles her face like they're knocking beaks. He even sings, and tries to initiate dances.

For Mc, it's a balancing act of what behaviours she does and doesn't reciprocate. She doesn't want to give him ideas, but he gets really cranky (and won't eat) if she totally ignores him. She's learned she can ignore his attempts at dances or nuzzles without him being too bothered- but she absolutely has to accept his gifts, and let him preen.

Harpies, especially hawk harpies, have one mate for life. As much as the other staff tease her for being Red's one true love, nobody can deny that his affections make everyone's lives at the aviary much easier.

Skull: A massive beast of a bird, with a wingspan tens of feet wide, he resembles one of those massive alpine vultures- thick snow-resistant plumage that's very soft to the touch. He once lived a solitary life high in the mountains, so he isn't great with people or other birds, but he has to stay at the aviary because the same incident that caused his head injury also gave him a large scar down the back of one wing that leaves him unable to fly for any longer than a few seconds.

Despite his penchant for gutting people with those giant claws of his, he's very soft and docile with Mc. He's also a highly curious beast- he follows her around his enclosure like a puppy, observing whatever she's doing... he also likes observing her, his face often only a few inches from hers as she works, always letting out a thrumming coo of delight at her presence. He's very soft, and since he used to live in a brutally cold environment he instinctively dislikes the sight of her being cold and is always trying to pull her into his arms to keep her warm.

His only issue is his 'sulking'. When he gets upset that she's leaving, or he thinks someone else is getting too close to the two of them, he likes to pick Mc up and fly/climb to the highest perch point in his enclosure. His wing might be injured but he can still flap, and his time in the mountains made him an adept climber. He'll sulk as high up as he can, squishing her close until he can be food-bribed into letting her go.

[silvrash-797]

@ajscico The long-awaited conclusion to the Time/Fierce Deity arc! This one has a song to go with it, too - Healing Termina by Theophany

Night's dark grasp (pt 3)

Day 26: "help them"

Part 1 | Part 2

Read on ao3

Twilight had taken second watch for the night, opting to patrol as Wolfie until it was time to switch with Hyrule. So far it had been a quiet night, no nightmares or restless sleep for anyone. He was on his second long loop around camp when something shifted in the woods. A sense of rage erupted from the far side of camp, blinding in its intensity, driving Twilight to his belly in fear, whimpering. The feeling soon retreated, and Twilight stood on shaky legs, carefully sniffing the air.

That can’t be good. Twilight loped back to camp to check on everyone. Wind was curled up in Warriors' scarf, Sky and Four nearby. Wild was on his side near Twilight’s bedroll, sleeping peacefully for once. Hyrule was clinging to Legend's arm, both of their faces screwed up like they were having a nightmare. And Time was…

Where was Time?

Dread filled his belly as he sniffed around Time's abandoned bedroll. No sign of a struggle, but that sharp scent of rage burned in his nostrils, heading off in a direct path out into the woods, leading towards the abandoned temple they had been tasked to clear out.

He immediately shifted back to Hylian, tucking his shadow crystal under his tunic as he began the frankly terrifying task of waking up a bunch of traumatized heroes in the middle of the night. He started with Sky and Wind, as they were usually the least stab-happy of the bunch. With a quick, “Time's missing, get everyone up,” they helped wake the others, and soon the Chain – sans Time – was gathered around, ready to hear what Twilight had to say.

Once everyone was settled, Warriors was quick to take charge. “What’s going on Rancher? Wind says Time's missing?”

“I was out on patrol as Wolfie when I felt an intense energy shift coming from camp. I couldn’t move for a minute, but when I could I came right back here.”

“I think I felt that, too,” Hyrule interrupted. “I thought it was just a nightmare, but it felt like a rampaging hinox was crushing me.”

Legend scoffed his agreement, wincing at the memory. “Same here.”

Twilight nodded. As two of the most magically sensitive members of the Chain, it made sense that they would have picked up on the feeling.

“When I got back, he was gone and a scent trail led from his bedroll towards the temple. The scent was Time's, but…it was…off. Raw. Furious.”

The Chain looked at each other in shock. Time never got angry.

Wind broke the silence. “So…we’re going after him, right?”

Warriors gave him a small smile and pulled him into a hug. “Of course, kiddo. There wasn’t any question.” He turned to the rest of the heroes. “Pack up, everyone. We leave in 10 minutes.”

-----

Twilight, as Wolfie, led the chain through the forest, tension mounting within each hero at the path of destruction woven through the foliage. Twilight grew even more concerned when the trail they were following began to intermingle with the ever-growing scent of monsters. Worse, they smelled infected. I hope Time's okay.

When the Chain arrived at the temple’s entrance, they gawked at the destruction before them. Black blood was everywhere, and there were gouges in the temple walls, as if some great sword had been sent to desecrate the place.

Twilight shifted back to Hylian, and the heroes all gathered around Warriors who looked concerned and…resigned?

Wars took a deep breath and let it out entirely before shifting to Captain mode. “I have an idea of what happened to Time, and I don’t like it. Twilight, take Wind, Sky and Legend, follow Time's trail. The rest of us will check out the rest of the temple, clear any monsters we find.”

“Not gonna give us a hint, Cap?” Legend asked.

Wars sighed again. “Just…be careful, please. I’m hoping the only reason I’m sending Sky with you is for the Master Sword, not his reputation as a Godslayer.”

…That’s not terrifyingly cryptic, Twilight thought as he shifted back to Wolfie. Immediately the mingling scents of Furious-Time and terrified monsters assailed his senses and he sneezed, wincing at the tang in the air.

Sky looked down at him in concern. “You gonna be okay, Twi?”

Twilight huffed out a breath and nodded, leading the way further into the temple.

The four of them met no resistance, monstrous or otherwise, as they made their way through, although Twilight could sense the trepidation growing in each of the other heroes. Before long they were standing in front of a large, ornately carved door.

Legend eyed it for a moment, then smirked. “Well, that just screams boss room, doesn’t it?”

The comment drained some of the tension among the group. Wind and Sky chuckled, and Twilight managed a wolfish laugh before shifting back.

Twilight rubbed at his nose, trying to clear it. “He’s definitely through there, him and a lot of monsters.”

That caused a pause in the group. Sky finally broke the silence. “What do we think happened? Should we make a plan?”

“What do we know?” Wind asked.

Legend began listing points off on his fingers. “Time disappeared in the middle of the night. He’s angry. There hasn’t been a single monster in this goddess-forsaken temple, except apparently here in the boss room. Did I miss anything?”

“Wars chose us specifically to find Time,” Twilight reminded him.

“Oh, right. The protégé, the Godslayer, the Veteran, and the kid.”

“I’m not a kid, Lege!” Wind protested. “For your information, I know why Wars was worried about needing a Godslayer.”

Legend blinked at him, nonplussed. “You do?”

“Yes, I do. In the War of Eras, Kid Time had a really powerful mask he would use to help turn the tides of a battle if things were going wrong – the Fierce Deity’s mask.

“I thought he’d gotten rid of it, since I haven’t seen it even when we’ve had really tough battles, but…” Wind paused, swallowed, “something might have gone wrong.”

“I’ve heard of the Fierce Deity,” Legend said, “even got to play around with his sword for a bit on one of my adventures…wonderful.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a hard breath. “So, if I’m understanding right, there’s a high chance Time's been, what, possessed by this Deity?”

“Unfortunately that is what it sounds like,” Sky grimaced. “So, a plan?”

Twilight shook his head. “There’s still a lot we don’t know. Be ready for a fight; we’ll have to play it by ear once we see what we’re dealing with. Whatever’s happening, we need to help him…help them.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and readied their weapons, then Twilight pushed the door open.

Once the four heroes were through, the door slammed shut behind them. Each flinched and glanced back in turn, but no bars fell across the door. A swift glance around the room alleviated some concerns and brought others to the fore.

The only sign monsters had ever been in the room was the thick scent of blood in the air and the dark, bloody puddles across the tile floor. Across the room, a tall figure in heavy plate armor stood with his back to the heroes.

Twilight cleared his throat and took a few steps towards the figure. “Old Man?” he called. “Time, is that you?”

The voice that responded was similar to Time's, but it was deeper, louder, with intense emotion simmering below the surface. “The Hero of Time sleeps, young Hero of Twilight. I am all that remains.”

The Deity turned its face to the heroes, and Twilight took a step back as blank, emotionless eyes stared right through him, glowing with unearthly light under a shock of white hair. “Why have you come? The infected threat has been nullified. You are no longer needed. Return to your rest.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Legend drawled, voice projecting strength and confidence. “We woke up to find our leader gone, we’re just here to bring him back to camp with us.”

Wind stepped forward. “C'mon Fierce, let him go, please?”

The blank gaze turned to Wind who, to his credit, did not take a step back at the intensity contained within. “Hero of Winds. It has been a while since we met…But your pleas are useless. I have escaped the confines of the mask. I alone control this body. The Hero of Time sleeps, and I will ensure that he cannot take it from me.”

The Fierce Deity drew its double helix blade, but made no move to attack. “Your request is denied. Leave now, and I will not harm you.”

Twilight looked between the other heroes and saw the same determination in their eyes that burned in his heart. The Wolf surged inside him, and he bared his teeth at the Deity. “We’re not leaving without Time.”

“Then you will not leave at all.”

With speed and grace belied by its height and bulk, the Deity moved to strike. Sky intercepted the swipe aimed at Twilight's head, bracing himself against the strength of the blow.

“Twi!” he gasped as he pushed the Deity back. “Fi didn’t burn me – she doesn’t recognize him as a hero!” Sky parried another strike. “I’ll keep him occupied – go help them figure out a way to get Time back!”

Twilight nodded and made a beeline to the younger heroes. They were already deep in discussion, although they both kept one eye on the fight unfolding before them.

“Rancher, I have a crazy idea and it’s your fault.”

“Lege, I – what? What do you mean my fault?”

Legend, filled with nervous energy, shifted from foot to foot as he explained. “Before we opened the door you said we’d have to play it by ear. The Deity told us twice that Time was sleeping.” He paused, thinking.

“…And…?” Twilight prompted.

“…And I happen to know a song that can wake dreamers, and an ocarina to play it on. The problem is separating them once Time's awake…”

“This is basically a curse, right?” Twilight asked. “The Master Sword should be able to handle separating them – that must’ve been what Wars meant by sending the Master Sword with us.”

Wind was filled with the same nervous energy as Legend, fidgeting with his necklace as he watched Sky and the Deity circle each other. “But Fierce said he escaped the confines of the mask, so there’s nothing physical to anchor his spirit to.”

Legend thought for a bit longer, then pulled out his ice rod. He shot a thick stream at the Fierce Deity, temporarily freezing him in place. “Sky!” he shouted, “Get over here!”

Sky came, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he watched the Deity slowly free itself. “What's the plan, guys?”

“The Vet knows a song he thinks can wake Time. We need the Master Sword and something to anchor the Deity’s spirit to.” Twilight explained. A thought came to him. “You don’t happen to have a carving on you that you’re okay parting with, do you?”

Sky stilled for a long moment, staring. Eventually, he pulled what looked like a half-finished cutting board from his pack. “I was working on this for Wild, but cutting boards are pretty easy to carve in the scheme of things.”

Twilight took it in hand as Legend shot another stream of ice at the Deity. It was bigger than Time's masks usually were, but it would suffice. He handed it to Wind. “You’re in charge of this. Keep it safe, okay?” He turned back to Legend. “Give me your ice rod – I’ll try to keep him in place while you work. This is going to take all of us.”

Twilight took Sky's arm. “The moment we get confirmation that Time's awake, we need the Master Sword to seal the Deity's spirit in the wood. Do you think she can handle it?”

Sky grasped the sword’s hilt with both hands and closed his eyes. It flared brightly for a moment before a gentle chime rang from the metal. Sky opened his eyes and nodded. “She’s ready.”

“Then let’s get Time back.” Legend wasted no time in pulling his ocarina from his pack. He raised the instrument to his lips, beginning to play a lilting, haunting melody.

The moment the notes sounded, the Deity roared, fighting harder to free itself. Twilight sent another stream of ice its way, silently apologizing to Time for the cold. Sky hovered close by, ready to fight if the Deity escaped.

As the last notes of Legend's song echoed through the room, the Deity stilled, frozen in mind as well as body.

Twilight watched its face anxiously. “Come on, Old Man. Come back to us,” he whispered.

A shudder rocked the Deity's frame. Color flickered in its left eye, resolving into a familiar deep blue iris. Its mouth opened.

The voice that emerged was weak but immensely familiar. Time’s voice. “Pup,” he whispered, “help…”

Powerful relief washed over Twilight, and he grinned as he shouted, “Now, Sky!”

Sky held the flat of the blade to the right side of the Deity's face, keeping it steady as it worked to pull the Deity from Time's mind and body. Time's eye, tired, terrified, pained, stayed fixed on Twilight through the process.

Slowly, the armor vanished piece by piece, the light blue tunic fading to Time's cream undershirt. Golden blond hair replaced the white. The markings on the left side of Time's face disappeared as the otherworldly glow faded from the right eye before it shut of its own accord.

In just a few eternal minutes, the Deity was gone, and Time stood, trembling, before them.

Legend shot a gentle blast of heat from his fire rod to melt the ice, and Time collapsed. Twilight caught him before he could hit the floor, pulling off his pelt to wrap around the freezing hero. Time shivered, panting, in his hold.

They watched Sky as he took the Master Sword to Wind and placed its tip to the cutting board in the Sailor's hands. Waves of blue, white and gold rolled off the blade as the Fierce Deity was channeled into the heart of the wood, until a bright flash of light caused each hero to close their eyes.

When they opened them, the colorful waves had stopped, the sword was still, and a tiny Triforce had been branded into the wood, surrounded by the chevron and stripes of the Deity's marks.

Time heaved a deep sigh then looked at the four heroes surrounding him. Gratitude shone from his eye. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for freeing me.”

Twilight returned the look with a watery smile, pulling the older hero into a tight embrace. “You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Personal Recs! (General Audiences, Teen And Up)

Here are some of my personal recommendations! This post will include fics generally suited for most audiences.

Our Kind Of Intimacy by Moss-On-The-Bones (General Audiences, Complete)

Ink had the marvelous idea of making Error his canvas. A little over 1k words of Error being painted on. This is a part of a reverse big bang with @wewawoomp on Tumblr. Link to the art will be at the end notes.

Duplicate The Terror by Sye_Dye (Teen And Up, Complete)

This wasn't how it was suppose to go. Dream felt that he has done everything to get through to Nightmare, but to no avail. But to resort to this? He didn't think things could have gone so south so fast. He just wanted his precious brother back. Was that too much to ask for? It was an accident. Now he hurt his brother and he was not sure what to do. His brother sneered at him. On the other side of the room, another Nightmare glared at him. There were two Nightmares now. What has he done? In which Nightmare does not know what to do with himself and finds a new path.

Schrodinger's Gate by moondrift (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Disoriented and emotionally frayed from decades spent in the void, W.D Gaster suddenly finds himself at the mercy of a cold and arrogant alternate self. His doppelganger promises to return him to the void once his research is complete but before he can make good on his threat, Gaster is introduced to this world’s variant of his son and he is forced to make a quick, spur of the moment decision. This sole act sends unforeseen ripples throughout the Multiverse and hurdles Gaster on a perilous journey across it to find his way home. or Dadster plays hopscotch across the multiverse, unintentionally and intentionally acquires children, tentatively reciprocates Grillby's feelings, engages in actual literal custody battles with copies of himself, somehow steals a Bad Sans™, narrowly avoids death at the hands of Error and somehow flies under Ink’s radar for a shocking amount of time.

Don't care 'bout my Bad Reputation by Insecuriousity (Teen And Up, Complete)

Every monster in Snowdin knew that between the two Skeleton Brothers, Sans was the soft one. He never dusted anyone, always hid behind his brother’s legs like a coward, and had the stats of a newborn whimsun. The only reason nobody had dusted him yet was because only Sans could extract some mercy from Papyrus. It was goddamn hilarious, how wrong they all were, but Sans wasn’t about to correct them.

you become by theragingprophet (General Audiences, Complete)

you aren’t Real, but for him... for your little brother, you can pretend. (in which Sans is Papyrus’s imaginary friend, and magic is both a wonderful and terrifying thing.)

The One Where Sans Tells It Like It Is. (Or: The One Where Sans Is Number One Dunckle) by marauding_bagel (General Audiences, Complete)

When Toriel asked him to attend the meeting in her place for one night he thought it wouldn't be a big deal. Turns out Sans could not have been more wrong.

At Their Mercy by Devcipher (Teen And Up, Complete)

The multiverse had been perfectly balanced when the seven higher beings weaved it together. Through countless interferences, however, the balance has begun to tip, and stability is threatened. Fate's creation has been unresponsive to their warnings, and thus a solution must be made. While feuding with Destiny over a monster to be Ink's counterpart, Karma intervenes. Inspiration from Harrish6's Forced God of Destruction universe, but a unique alternate multiverse/universe of my own. Discord is constantly breaking the link for the ATM discord but: https://discord.gg/DgHWGnMNrs *EDIT: My server got raided twice please message me for a link lol* Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/devtemrys

Kinder Than He Seems by WrittenKinzy18 (Teen And Up, Complete)

Error is the Destroyer of the AUs. The sole purpose of his existence is to clash with Ink and destroy the entire multiverse. He has two easy ways of doing so: finding the Doodle Sphere, or killing the Classic Universe. No one wants to get rid of him completely, but they also can't let him roam free. However, when Classic himself is brought into their multiversal meeting, they find Error has always known where the Original Undertale was. In fact, he'd been actively visiting it as a friend. Were they really so wrong about the Destroyer?

Ancients & Champions by jisko2ijsko (Teen And Up, Complete)

After monsters broke free to the surface Sans thought that the humans would be the hardest to manoeuvre around. Nothing could have prepared him for what he found in a different country far from his home. He will learn more about the world, them and himself as he tries to deal with feelings and long forgotten memories. TLDR: Sans decides to travel to help Alphys and Toriel and ends up meeting more skeletons and experience many more adventures. Good thing two are really cute and the other four are actually very nice.

Turn Back Time by orphan_account (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Nightmare finally killed his brother. Dream is finally dead. Or so he thought. Dream also thought he was killed. He thought he was dead. But when he opened his eyes he's perfectly fine, unexpectedly. His pain has gone, there's no tendril piercing his body, and his wounds disappeared completely. Then a familiar voice greets him, chuckling softly. “Why are you looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost?” "Night...mare?"

[gellavonhamster]

Morgan’s most spectacular and provocative feat of magic is the Val sans Retour or Val des Faux Amants (the Valley of No Return or Valley of False Lovers), an enchanted valley from which no knight who has ever been unfaithful to his lady in any way, ‘even in desire alone’, can escape, a paradise that rapidly palls on its inhabitants. Here knights are punished for their infidelity; forced to remain in the company of their ladies, they are deprived of the opportunity of performing knightly deeds in an enchantment that lasts seventeen years. [...] It is a comfortable place; the knights can hear mass in a chapel which lies on its borders, for it is secular, not Christian, fidelity that is at stake here. All the trappings of courtly leisure are available: food and drink, backgammon and chess, dancing and music. The knights have the company of their ladies and squires, if these wish to remain with them, and, the text makes clear, the place suited some men very well, ‘many knights … were very much at ease there’.

[...]

The Lancelot follows Galescalain, the Duke of Clarence and Morgan’s nephew, into the Valley in close detail. Though the landscape within may be pleasant, the entrance itself is alarming. Passing through a smoke-like barrier, the duke is constrained on either side by walls so that he cannot turn round. Coming to a low, narrow door he abandons his horse, unsheathes his sword and enters. Within he finds two fire-spewing dragons, which attack, injuring him severely. Passing through a second door he finds a broad, rushing river, which he must cross on an unsteady plank, at the end of which three knights are positioned to attack. At their first onslaught the duke is so terrified that he falls into the river. He is hauled out and beaten over the head until he loses consciousness. Stripped of his armour, he is carried into a garden, where he finds himself in the company of other captive knights and learns the secret of the Valley. Galescalain comments pungently: ‘if he had known no prowess would be of avail, he would never in his life have set foot in that place, for he well knew that no one could love for very long without being unfaithful either in deed or in thought.’ The consequence of his infidelity is the loss of his chivalric attributes: horse, weapons and armour. He is no longer the man he was.

Imprisonment within this female realm thus comes as a consequence of penetration in search of the kind of adventure that should have confirmed Galescalain’s masculinity. It is inviting to read the entrance to the Valley in terms of the female body; once the knight has passed through the hymen-like barrier of the air curtain and is enclosed in the constricting passage there is no going back. After braving the dragons (perhaps the castration fear of the vagina dentata) and his immersion in the river, the cool moisture which medieval physiological theory predicts for the female interior, Galescalain is battered into submission and loses consciousness – the little death of orgasm. Although the Valley challenged his masculinity, daring him to penetrate the adventure, now that he is trapped in its feminized space, his masculine honour is bound to decline. The captive knights must now keep company with women, accommodating themselves to what women want, rather than performing the feats of courage and exercising the freedom to roam which defines the knightly existence.

[...]

As I have suggested elsewhere, the comfortable environment of the Valley, which suits some of its male inhabitants very well, is stigmatized partly because it offers real attractions. Being a knight-errant is hard work: in Erec when Enide accompanies her husband on the journey in which his reputation is restored, she witnesses the physical discomforts and the exhausting imperative to fight all challengers even when injured that the knight has to face. In the twelfth century, as noted in Chapter 2, a new understanding emerged that marriage could produce happiness and intimacy for the couple, rather than simply resulting in an alliance for breeding heirs. Thus fighting men might have a strong need for family and home. The treatment of the Val sans Retour is partly determined by the realization that the family environment is a less stressful alternative to the anxieties involved in performance at court and in battle. Knights needed to be reminded that while a retreat to the domestic and feminine for recuperation is permissible in the short term, the real action lies elsewhere in the courtly universe.

— King Arthur's Enchantresses: Morgan and Her Sisters in Arthurian Tradition by Carolyne Larrington

[landofzero-archive]

Absolute - The Pure Land 8

(Location: Absolute Stage)

(Nearly an hour later. Inside the venue of Absolute.)

Jun: Ooh—

Hey, there’s some kinda flashy stage being built~? There wasn’t anything like that here yesterday though?

Hiyori: Because it’s almost the time for Absolute to begin. See, there’s already a huge audience, as many as the eyes can see.

NEGI: “Thanks to that, the highway was congested, it was a hard time getting to this place…… Ugh, my best set of clothes is drenched in sweat.”

Ibara: Yes. It’s just as expected.

However this is difficult, this crowding makes searching for someone—

Nagisa: —Are you looking for someone?

Ibara: —

Your Excellency.

Hiyori: Nagisa-kun!? Eeeeh, we found you even without needing to look for you!

Why are you here? Where have you been and what have you been doing up till now? I’ve been so worried—

………

Jun: Ohiisan? What’s going on with you~ What’s up with that face, you’re looking like you’ve seen an alien?

Hiyori: ……… Who?

Jun: Huh? Who, you said– do you have amnesia or something? No matter which way you look at him, it’s Nagi-senpai……?

No, huh? Now that you’ve mentioned it, something feels weird somewhere……?

Ibara: Hmm hmm. I see, so this means he has turned into a different person after undergoing the terrifying experience that is kidnapping. Poor soul.

Did you think that’s what I’d say? Who are you? What you’re doing right now is an infringement of the right to using someone’s likeness; it’s a crime.

Nagisa?: ………

NEGI: “Could it be Shaka-san?

You’re Shaka-san, aren’t you? You can’t fool my eyes, who do you think did the procedure on you?”

Nagisa?: Ahahahahahaha.(1)

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.(1)

NEGI: “……!?”

Shaka: That’s amazing. You might have just tricked me into revealing the truth, but I didn’t think you would find me out this quickly.

I should not have just practiced on-stage performances, but I should have practiced genuine acting on top of that.

No, but still, did you all realize my true identity?

I envy you, brother. I see I see, because you’re holding in your arms something so precious and brilliant, it’s only natural that money and reputation could not bring out your interest.

Ibara: Where’d you take His Excellency to?

What “I”(2) will do to you depends on your answer—

Shaka: Rest assured. Right now, he’s in the safest place in the world.

However, nobody would think of the him in there as Ran Nagisa.

NEGI: “……Did you steal his existence?

And then you took over? Was that your purpose, Shaka-san?”

Shaka: Indeed, my friend. (3) I have captured and confined Ran Nagisa and remodeled myself using Priest’s technique.

And then we exchanged forms with one another, and in this way replaced each other.

I have obtained that child’s life.

As a reward for that, I bestowed my life upon that child.

Isn’t it a good deal? With this, he can become the world’s number one idol without any hardships—

Ibara: Even if you didn’t bestow it upon him.

His Excellency is, we are, planning to reach “there” with our own strength sooner or later.

Shaka: Ahaha. You said the same thing he said. You have such a close relationship. It’s heartwarming.

You guys are pretty cute. I enjoy your cherubic mannerism and reactions. 

Jun: GODDAMN! Ibara, it’s okay to rough up this guy, yeah~? Just this once, me and Ohii-san will pretend we didn’t see anything!

Hiyori: —It’s no good.

Jun: Huh? Wh-why is that, Ohii-san?

Shaka: That child over there is prudent.

Let’s imagine it. Indeed, I am a criminal. For example, yes, let’s say I’ve cheated and robbed a bank out of a large amount of money

At this rate, I might get arrested by the police. So that I could escape safely, I should take hostages.

Jun: Gotcha, so in this situation, Nagi-senpai is the one being held hostage……!?

Hiyori: Yes. Until we can safeguard Nagisa-kun without incident, there is no way we can erase this guy who is the only one who knows where that child is.

So Ibara, I know you’re probably irritated, but please refrain from going on a rampage.

Ibara: Yes, I would not have done so even if you didn’t tell me that, Your Highness.

TL Notes:

1. Please don’t worry. Mod counted the ‘Ha’s for this.

2. Ibara’s using his very rare personal pronoun 俺 (Ore), which is a rude, typically masculine personal pronoun. He usually uses 自分 (Jibun) which is an impersonal, somewhat militaristic way of referring to oneself.

3. Just so you know he said そうとも,友よ (Soutomo, tomoyo).

Previous | Directory | Next

[writingsofwesteros]

Daenaerys making peace with Sansa by being the one to give her the eldest daughter of Cersei.

She has her in a tattered gown, terrified. Sansa remembers this woman. Beautiful, kind. Always good to Sansa. Her first crush on another woman. Once, the Lannister girl taught Sansa how to kiss. When they were discovered, she was too frightened to defend Sansa. It ruined the Winter Queen’s reputation.

“She’s shuddering,” Sansa almost sounds concerned.

Daenaerys plays with the loose straps of the woman’s gown, “She’s nude beneath this. We took her clothes to use as blankets.”

Sansa goes to the Lannister and grabs her chin, “Sad. She’s cold and filthy. I cannot allow that. I’ll have a bath prepared in my chambers.”

“Thank you San—“ she forced her thumb in the Lannister girl’s mouth.

“Still so pretty… but filthy. Wanton. This gown is disgusting. Take it off,” Sansa nods to her men that immediately strip the woman bare.

The moment she tries to cover herself, her hands are bound. When she begs Sansa for mercy, her mouth is gagged. Sansa is shameless in her groping of the Lannister. She looks to Daenaerys “Would you like to help me wash her?”

“I would be delighted.”

Much to the Lannister girl’s humiliation, Sansa’s chambers are on the other side of Winterfell. Meaning that she is walked nude for all to see. Unlike her mother, no one is allowed to throw things at her. But Sansa has her hand on the back of her head, fingers tight around gold curls, this is no less demoralizing.

“This will be how they remember you. But not I. We shall make better memories soon, if you take well to your lessons.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“This will be how they remember you. But not I. We shall make better memories soon, if you take well to your lessons.” Oh she's bad!

Poor thing not having the strength to defend Sansa when it was needed.

Sansa and Danny would have been good partners in crime thank you!

[tickledpink31]

Mari is attractive, I’m sure she’s been on a few relationships and when she can tell that her partner is getting exhausted of her she makes sure she dumps them first.

(From B99, obvi)-

Mom: how did the break up go?

Mari: I tried to acknowledge their feelings. Wasn’t easy. There were a lot of them

*flashback*

Partner: I’m just so confused so sad…

Mari attempts to quietly leave through the window.

Partner: Are you climbing out the window?

Mari: No.

*flashback end*

—-

You’re not wrong in assuming that Mari has dated before, but before entering a courtship with Wukong, she’s never had a long-term relationship. At most she’s dated three people, all of which never really went farther than the first or second date.

You could probably say it’s a matter of Mari’s reputation among her peers. It’s a little bit like a Komi-san situation where her peers see Mari as some unreachable beauty, except they tend to view her as an ice queen from a rich family with how blunt and aloof she tends to be. (I’ve never really watched Komi-san as a whole yet other than short clips from YouTube, so I only know of the premise)

Mari just wants friends, but she’s socially awkward and has trouble understanding others. Over time, she grew a little pessimistic about her lonely life with her lack of friends, and her love life is no better. She’s definitely left a date at least once by escaping through a restroom window because of how uncomfortable her date has made her.

Now that you’ve brought up dating, it made me think of how her love life as Xiaodie is outside of Wukong. I mean even having amnesia with headdache-inducing memories slowly coming together, it doesn’t really stop Xiaodie from getting butterflies in her stomach when a handsome village boy generously gives her extra alms for the journey. These romances never last because of said journey and Wukong doesn’t take too kindly at the idea of Xiaodie having more than one suitor.

And while this shouldn’t really be considered a part of her love life and more of a terrifying scenario, she’s definitely been kidnapped by a demon or a regular human douchebag at least once so that they could forcibly marry her.

[atjsgf]

📓 📓 📓 (plot per book pls!!)

ALRIGHT LET'S DO IT!

MISS AMERICANA AND THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE

So I have this reylo fic I’ve been meaning to write for years called Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. It’s a high school AU that is based on A Cinderella Story (one of my top five fave movies of all-time) but doesn’t follow it exactly–it’s a little darker, just bc of the nature of adapting the characters’ backstories, especially Finn and Ben. (They are all seniors unless otherwise specified.) 

Rey plays the role of Sam/Cinderella. Her mom died when she was young, leaving her to be raised by her abusive stepfather, Brendol Hux. Said stepfather favors his kids, Hux and Phasma (Armitage goes by his last name. Phasma is a nickname, but I think she has a real one that gets brought up). However, he also puts a lot of pressure on them as athletes (unsure what sport they do, figure skating maybe.) 

In ACS it’s a running gag that Sam’s twin stepsisters are really bad at their sport (synchronized swimming). In this, they’re good, but it’s to their detriment. (The exploitation of underage athletes is a recurring theme in this fic.)

(I like the trope where the evil stepmother–or stepfather in this case–is abusive to the step-siblings, too, just in a different way, just bc it strikes me as more relatable.) 

Rey works at the business Brendol runs, a mechanic shop/diner. She’s saving up money for college, but she’s also kind of forced to work long hours by Brendol. Her fairy godmother is obviously the manager of the diner, Daae Leira. 

Finn is Carter, but instead of acting, his whole thing is that he was a competitive athlete who fought for emancipation from his abusive family and won, and now he wants to major in journalism to shed light on the issue. 

Rose is Astrid (the DJ in the movie, she does have a name) who wants to major in broadcast journalism. So they both work on the school paper and that brings them together. 

And ofc, Ben is Austin. Captain of the water polo team, known for being aggressive and competitive, but secretly wants to be a writer. He has this kind of ruthless reputation for having gotten his own sister expelled by planting weed in her locker to prevent himself from getting kicked off the football team for having it. 

In reality, he got Cara expelled because his football coach–abusive, manipulative Snoke–was about to turn his attention to Cara, who had joined the girls’ water polo team against Ben’s advice. And Ben was terrified of Cara getting tied up with Snoke the way he had by that point. (Cara now goes to a boarding school in Northern CA, as opposed to the San Fernando valley where everything takes place.)

Anyways, Ben’s friends are Poe Dameron and Sage Skylstad. Poe is on the team with him and Sage is someone he’s been friends with since middle school. 

Ben and Rey have this online relationship. They know they go to the same school, but other than that they don’t know the other’s identity. When Rey finds out, her fear is less about Ben being super popular (he’s not), and more about him having that asshole reputation. (A more mild stressor is Sage–everyone at their school is convinced the two are dating, because of the whole “men and women can’t be platonic friends” thing. They are not and both find the idea gross.) 

Anyway. Rey gets her Cinderella moment, Snoke gets exposed by Finn and Rose, Ben gets his “I’m throwing away YOUR dream” moment, and they live happily ever after. I also wanted to do some sequels about them in college, Poe/Cara getting together, stuff like that. 

BETWEEN TWO POINTS/IN SCREAMING COLOR

So I had this idea for a series of Community fics. The series is called Between Two Points. The first three would each center on one ship. The first one, called In Screaming Color, would be Abed/OC. The second one would be Britta/Troy and the third would be Jeff/Annie. However, I think if I went back and did it now, I’d probably change it to Britta/OFC and Abed/OC/Troy, so I’ll outline it that way from here. 

In Screaming Color would just be Abed/OC, Troy would come into play later, I think it takes place after he leaves but while they’re still in school. The OC–I’ll call her Drew for now, that’s when she was my self-insert but I think I’d wanna make her a full OC if I wrote this–is a Dance major. She’s had a crush on Abed for awhile, ever since the Who’s the Boss debacle where he made the instructor cry or whatever, I need to rewatch the show. (I vaguely remember that I had to move the timeline and have this episode be earlier for things to make sense.) She was in that class and fell in love with how passionate Abed is about things like sitcoms–she’s also deeply passionate about things like that (she writes fanfic, etc) and felt a connection to that. 

However, Abed remains basically unaware of her existence until he has to do a music video for a class. She auditions for the main role (a ballerina in a music box who falls down and has to find her way around the music box–that’s my working theory on what it is, although I may change it if I think of something more thematically relevant) and gets the part. 

From there it’s this psychological thing where there’s a lot of miscommunication (mostly on Drew’s part) and false assumptions (mostly on Abed’s part) where she’s trying to make it clear that she’s genuinely interested in him, but he rebuffs her because he finds the trope of a director getting involved with actresses on set to be tired. (Feminist king.) And also because, you’ll remember in an early episode that Abed says “a lot of girls like me because I’m adorable and my aloofness reminds them of their fathers.” Even as he starts to like her, he thinks that she’s only interested in him because of the director persona he puts on. 

Eventually they have an actual conversation where she admits when she started liking him and why–she doesn’t like him because he’s aloof, she likes him because he’s deeply passionate about stories and storytelling and she can see that in everything he does, even if nobody else sees it that way. And they end up dating and are cute <3 In fics #2 and #3 they can often be found in the background doing fun things and acting out their favorite tropes. (Drew introduces him to the idea of acting out tropes instead of specific scenes or movies that exist, and he becomes obsessed.) 

Fic #2, currently untitled, would take place after the finale and would be a Britta/OC that ends in a decision to not get married but instead have a non-legally binding promise ceremony, because Britta doesn’t want to get married but she does want to be with the OC forever. I still like Troy/Britta, but idk if I see them working long-term, and I also think it would be a fun exercise to look at Britta and see what she would need in someone as a long-term love interest. 

Fic #3, also currently untitled, would see Annie coming back from Quantico for Britta’s wedding, years after leaving in the finale. She would have gone through a lot of personal growth in the years in between, and the fic would have her and Jeff get together in some way. Idk, I haven’t thought that hard about it, I just like them. 

(I also sometimes toyed with the idea of a fic that takes place in before fic# 3 that sees Annie having that personal growth in Quantico–it would be a Criminal Minds crossover and she’d be in the BAU.) 

And the final fic, Fic #4 would go back to right after Fic #1 when they’re all still in school. It would be an anthology fic where each chapter is about Drew’s relationship with the other members of the study group–how they met and what their dynamic is and when and why that member accepted her into their circle. For example, I wanted to move that one episode where Jeff gets bullied by some teenagers to be later in the timeline, and have Drew get involved, and that’s how she and Jeff connect. 

The last chapter–maybe the last few chapters, or maybe I’d make it a separate fic, idk if I could do the character work necessary in one chapter. But it would overlap with fic #3. Like Annie, Troy comes back for Britta’s wedding. (I think he and Britta are still close and there’s a lot of affection there even though they know they weren’t supposed to be forever, and I think Troy is really happy Britta found her person.)

Anyways, this would be when Troy/Drew/Abed gets together as a polyamorous triad. I think both Troy and Abed had those feelings before but never addressed them because they didn’t want to ruin their friendship and because it felt kind of off somehow. But Troy was gone for awhile and Abed didn’t fall apart–in fact, he’s proven to himself that he is capable of being in a long-term relationship that’s healthy. Their relationship has already undergone the worst scenario possible, so I think they’re more confident that if they broke up, they’d still be friends. And that feeling of off-ness is gone with Drew in the mix. 

(Abed and Drew admit to each other that even though they love each other atp, there always felt like there was a missing space in their relationship–it’s just generally this idea that the three of them are supposed to be in this kind of relationship with each other and that’s what’s always been right for them, they just had to wait for the pieces to fall into place.) 

Drew also panics when she realizes so many tropes are based on monogamous relationships until Abed reminds her that she is a writer and she can make up new stories for them, which she does. 

WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?

This was gonna be a reylo role-reversal AU. With Cara in the mix, things that unfolded in canon shifted, and, long story short, Snoke was unsuccessful in turning Ben Solo to the dark side, so he set his sights on Rey instead and since she had no support network, he succeeded. Now Rey is the leader of the Knights of Ren who finds herself inexplicably drawn to smuggler Ben Solo. Would also include Finnrose (maybe a role reversal on them, too? Stormtrooper Rose and maintenance worker Finn?) and Damara (not role reversal I don’t think bc I can’t see Cara as anything other than an engineer, but their relationship may be different in some way.) 

I honestly didn’t have a lot planned for this lol, it was just something I was toying with. I obviously wasn’t the first to come up with the idea but I thought it would be fun to explore and put my mark on it. 

[manybcdthings]

Name: Nicolas 'Nico' Alvarez

Age & Birthday: 27 years old, July 22nd

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Male He/Him

Species: Shifter

Birthplace: San Diego, CA

Job: Rapper/Influencer/Former Actor

Positive Personality Traits: resourceful, adaptable, loyal

Negative Personality Traits: rebellious, distrustful, secretive

ABOUT

Alvarez is a prominent name within the entertainment industry, but it also comes with it's fair share of trouble. Nico's father and uncle paved the way for their families to make their mark within entertainment, Miguel acting and Santiago veering into the managing world.

The brothers always had a strained relationship but when Nico was young, Miguel and Santiago refused to speak to one another following a disagreement regarding finances. He was too young to truly understand this at the time and he moved to NYC with his father, who continued to work as a manager for various actors in the industry.

The Alvarez family was split from that day forward. As Nico grew older, he was aware of his cousins and family that lived in California but never attempted to reach out or bridge the gap. Instead, he focused on his own career which was made easier by his father's contacts.

Nico began acting in various supporting roles, but quickly gained a reputation within the industry for his outlandish and difficult nature. He has always had a rebellious streak, over confident and he admits easily that he loves a thrill.

After being removed and fired from numerous projects due to his behavior, negative attention and unprofessional approaches in interviews or at events, acting was no longer an option for Nico as no director or producer worth their salt would let him near their work.

The negative attention, however, gained Nico an impressive following for his antics. The internet is still divided whether they love him or hate him, or love to hate him or follow him because they can't believe that they're seeing. Thus, he still remains somehow relevant in the public eye.

Nico now works on releasing music, though he never particularly reaches the charts. Not to mention that he prefers to make Latin inspired beats and lyrics and claims he's most famous in Mexico (he isn't lying, just no one really believes him because he lies about everything)

Recently, the Alvarez family has reconciled but under heartbreaking circumstances. The death of Nico's aunt and uncle saw his cousins, Isla and Ines, move to NYC as per their father's written wishes for after his death.

Nico is taking his role as a cousin turned brother seriously, even if Isla somewhat terrifies him. As for Ines, however, he's fiercely protective for a cousin he has only known for a few months.

[ryieiy]

3 Terrifying True Hotel Horror Stories Animated | Definitely Avoid These 3 Hotels!

In the heart of Savannah, Georgia, where Spanish moss drapes like age-old curtains and cobblestone streets whisper tales of the past, stands the Marshall House Hotel. As the oldest hotel in the city, its walls steeped in history have borne witness to events that have woven the rich tapestry of Savannah's past. From its days as a hospital during the Civil War and the yellow fever epidemic to its present-day existence as a beloved landmark, the Marshall House's story is one that intertwines the past with the present in a hauntingly beautiful symphony.

Similarly, nestled amidst the bustling streets of San Francisco, California, is the Queen Anne Hotel, a Victorian-era treasure rich in both history and mystery. Once a boarding school for young girls, its elegant structure now serves as a sanctuary for modern travelers and, according to popular belief, for spirits from times gone by. The hotel captivates with its blend of past and present, drawing visitors with promises of luxury and the hope of encountering something supernatural.

Moving further inland, we come to the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado, an iconic landmark set against the majestic backdrop of the Rocky Mountains. Renowned for its eerie reputation and supernatural allure, the Stanley Hotel has been immortalized in literature as the inspiration for Stephen King's novel "The Shining." Its grandeur and regal demeanor belie the ghostly tales that have woven themselves deeply into its fabric, making it a destination not just for luxury seekers but also for those intrigued by the paranormal.

Each of these historic hotels holds within its walls stories that blur the line between reality and the supernatural. Guests and staff alike have reported mysterious encounters that defy explanation, from ghostly apparitions and eerie sounds to inexplicable movements of objects. These tales serve as a reminder that history is not just a collection of facts and dates but a living presence, continually interacting with the present.

The Marshall House Hotel, with its tumultuous past as a hospital during times of war and disease, bears the scars of its history in the form of lingering spirits and eerie occurrences. Guests often speak of hearing harrowing screams echoing through the corridors at night, reminders of the hotel's harrowing past. The Queen Anne Hotel, once a haven for young girls under the care of Miss Mary Lake, now harbors the benevolent spirit of its former headmistress, who is said to tuck guests into bed with a gentle touch. And the Stanley Hotel, with its infamous Room 217 and spectral residents, continues to captivate visitors with its tales of ghostly encounters.

Despite—or perhaps because of—their haunted reputations, these historic hotels remain popular destinations for travelers seeking a glimpse into the past and a brush with the supernatural. Their stories serve as a reminder that history is not just a collection of facts and dates but a living presence, continually interacting with the present. As night falls and the shadows lengthen, the echoes of yesteryear play on in ghostly whispers and phantom melodies, reminding us that the past is never truly gone.

For Animated Stories: https://youtu.be/ZmiTfVyYzwM

[mcrcki]

Was that [ZOEY DEUTCH]? Oh no no, that was just [PJ HALLIWELL], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [CHARMED]. They are [TWENTY FIVE] years old, use [SHE/HER], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here -

pj has been here since she started college at eighteen, so over eight years now. she thought she was just coming to dc to get her journalism degree from georgetown, but has yet to make it back home to san francisco. she’s actually been enjoying her independence from her family, from the halliwell reputation. but when she’s alone at night, she can’t help but feel that familiar homesickness from her sisters and cousins.

where in your fandom is your character pulled from -

pj is pulled from the future, set after the epilogue of charmed. she was born in 2007, but is from 2025. (every year we get closer to that NOT BEING THE FUTURE)

has the magic affected your character -

nope, she has all of her memories in tact, her powers are still working. she just thinks she came here for school rather than being pulled to some alternate universe.

what is your character’s job -

pj is currently an event planner for the city and is honestly loving it. she runs her own business and is always looking for more employees or people who she can contract out with. she’s just started it up and it is her absolute baby.

other notes

a quick link to her wiki if you want to know like backstory or anything

otherwise here i am to scream about this chaotic idiot child. daughter of phoebe halliwell and coop. charmed one and cupid. she got powers from both her parents, being able to use them from before she was even six months old, beaming her mother around places. she has the powers of : beaming and remote beaming (basically teleportation and the ability to teleport objects. it’s just a pink light when it happens), sensing (being able to feel magic/supernatural beings) and high resistance (to any magical/lethal attacks). mixed with her basic witch powers (spell casting, scrying, potion making) she is one hell of a powerful witch. add on her ridiculous sense of honor and protectiveness for her family, and the hard desire to live up to her namesakes?? you get this chaos dummy.  it’s why she was assigned a whitelighter LONG before any of her other cousins ever got one, since her powers had come in so quickly and intensely, the elders had done what they could to try and help keep this next generation of witches safe. shoutout to them for having to put up with baby pj doing THE MOST and never really getting a break. so sorry buddy. her full name is prudence johnna halliwell, she’s named after her great grandmother, and her late aunt. both of them having passed but they were two of the strongest witches in their line. she struggles with fearing that she isn’t enough for them. that she is a disappointment to her family’s reputation. so she throws herself into danger, putting herself in the line of fire for her family’s safety. she’s taken on a huge role at home, being one of the leaders of the next generation of halliwells. she’s liked, since being in dc, that she doesn’t have to worry as much about that. she’s happy to have her family here again, and she wants nothing more than to keep the peaceful life that she’s used to. she is terrified that there’s a chance, with the majority of charmed ones being around, that demons will start to spawn again too. she’ll fight if she has to, but man she wishes that won’t be the case here.  she has two younger sisters, parker and peyton and she would literally do anything for them. big big protective older sister vibes. that extends to her cousins as well. they are thick as thieves, more like a group of siblings than cousins. she’s been in dc for so long, she absolutely needs a group of friends that she’s known, people she’s dated and broken up with (bc even though she’s a cupid she sucks !! at finding love for herself). though she’s doing better now, but it's still rough at times, and she’s really enjoying her life so far, even though there’s definite ups and downs.

CONNECTIONS :

✩ her whitelighter

please i just think this would be so fun , she was assigned a white lighter at like 4 years old this person would have been with her her whole life, constantly looking @ her like "wtf are we doing babes"

✩ best friend vibes

would love for her to have a bff to be stupid and have fun with, big party vibes but also will stay up till 3 am talking about life and just all around classic bff vibes

✩ employees

she’s a wedding planner and runs a whole company for it so feel free to come have anyone work for her!

✩ vendors she works with

anyone she could potentially contract with that works within the wedding industry (chefs/florists/venue owners/bartenders etc)

this could be v friendly or a strained relationship after a bad wedding who knows

✩ roommate (s)

really just want her to have a fun roommate that gets mad at her for not filling ice cube trays but they vibe with and have a swear jar and dance parties, come join her and mj in their fun little roomie crew !

✩ a squad to make stupid tiktoks with

girl just loves to make bad choices and absolutely wants to make dumb tiktoks all the time between astrology, witch tips, and just stupid drunk videos

✩ old college friends

she went to georgetown and has been in the city ever since freshman year so she would definitely have made plenty of friends while at school and after

✩ old tinder matches / exes

despite being a cupid, pj is literally trash at love. she thinks chad from tinder will fall in love with her because he likes dogs. just all around an idiot and has gotten her heart broken too many times, so she would definitely have her fair share of exes and flings

[bridgesintheworld2022]

The most dangerous bridges in the world

The Most Dangerous Bridges in the World 2022

Bridges are superb structures built to link one point to a further. Often they hold above terrain designed to take us times to trek if not. Most of them are systematically engineered and require years of engineering, such as the glorious Silver Gate Bridge inside San Francisco or your majestic Tower Conduit in London.

The Most Dangerous Bridges in the World 2022

Relationship, some bridges ended up simply built to finish the same job without much considering at all. Here are five of the most dangerous links in the world. What makes quite possibly the most dangerous bridges?

Although the general physics associated with bridge-building has been in lifetime for thousands of many years, every bridge’s wellbeing depends on several factors-the geology of the spot, traffic volume, environment, and construction items.

Sometimes, it can be tricky to tell between hazardous bridges and trusted ones simply by examining them. There are also several bridges where in spite of their stability, I recently could not dare to line foot without being a jolt from adrenaline!

For all most people adrenaline junkies and additionally bridge enthusiasts, here's some of the list of the scariest bridges in the world!

Dangling on in Pakistan

Let us get the the majority of dangerous bridge globally out of the way first! In 2, 600 yards altitude, the Hussaini Hanging Bridge hangs above the Hunza River in the Gilgit-Baltistan region; it is not to your faint of center.

This flimsy suspension bridge was created by the villagers working with materials found in a vicinity. Improper elements, the passage of one's, and lack of protection mean missing boards will unnerve anyone as you walk that narrow path earlier the gushing canal.

Unforgiving heavy gusts of wind also tend to protein shake the bridge since you cross it. I've heart palpitations merely thinking about it!

Japan’s roader-coaster

The Eshima Ohashi Bridge in Okazaki, japan sits over Nakaumi lake. Constructed involving 1997 to 2004, it is the third-largest rigid-frame bridge in the world!

Apart from its impressive dimensions, images of the connection circulate the internet given it looks as vertical as a rollercoaster from your certain angle!

Gorge-ous but scary!

A Royal Gorge Connect sits 956 little feet above a hone valley with a approach running underneath. Engineering began in May of 1929 in addition to took less than key months to complete. To help you gauge just how upright this is, you can meet the entire Chrysler creating in the gorge, in support of its spire can rise above the link.

The unnerving top is what makes the application terrifying, as sliding off means some deep plunge that you're unlikely to get by.

Dicing with fatality

Also known as the “Bridge of Death” along with “Oh My Our god bridge”, the skinny Quepos Bridge produced between 1930 to be able to 1940 does not also look like it can maintain a bicycle, nonetheless, big trucks together with lorries drive because of it daily.

That wood-plank bridge is very much on the verge with collapsing, with unfastened slabs clanking noisally as the bridge sways beneath the weight involving vehicles passing with. Yikes!

A crazy bridge in China and taiwan

In the mountains, this Fairy Walking Connection offers stunning panorama and a bit of probability

At the height of just one, 320 meters previously mentioned sea level, your Fairy Walking Link joins two rugged outcroppings. Until 1987, locals crossed above this abyss coupled a decrepit dangling path, with a lot of falling to their demise earning it a nickname of the “bridge of immortals. ”

New construction causes it to become safe now, nonetheless location’s previous repute persists. Visitors typically get an eerie feeling while eating the stunning landscaping of the rock formations on the mountainside.

Monkeying around in Vietnam

There’s a lot of sure-footedness required to cross those traditional bridges

Goof Bridges are classic, handcrafted wood or even bamboo walkways usually made of just one part of bamboo or wooden log, some perhaps built without handrails. You can find them unfold across the Mekong Delta in Vietnam, occupying streams and hemp fields. They can as well be seen in north Vietnam, in resort regions of the Crimson River Delta.

To your locals who live life nearby, crossing such bridges is easy because they do it every day. Meant for unfamiliar visitors, it's really a difficult and damaging affair.

Is there perfect on the other side?

Every excursion is an experience with this bridge. Image due to Russia Trek.

This perilous Kuandinsky Conduit in Russia’s Trans-Baikal region is definitely all the way up there among that list of dangerous connections. It is hazardous considering in over 31 years, they even now have not completed this, yet, people navigate it daily.

From 570 meters lengthy, it ferries persons across the Vitim Waterway. Crossing the water is treacherous adequate during heavy excellent skiing conditions, but the trembling conduit adds to its danger.

Also, there is nothing to avoid you from falling into the freezing marine environments as it is only concerning two meters extensive with no railings or simply other safety guide lines!

A Key bridge with Florida

Seven Kilometer Bridge Florida Recommendations is an amazing look and one of the most perilous bridges in the world

In case you have Thalassophobia, you might not just want to set foot on this subject 10, 888-meter connect across the Atlantic Water, connecting the New york Keys.

You can sole see green-blue water and a display associated with herons and seagulls perched on top of that railings on either sides as you angry the bridge.

Your walk in the atmosphere

Though it is a visitor destination, it can be very scary to cross punch the bridge within Langkawi’s mountains

That 125-meter long shape is one of the world’s top curve suspension links, and its construction had been an arduous task. To be found high in the mountain range of Langkawi, this Sky Bridge may only be assembled by hoisting the whole structure and most its components on the top by helicopter!

It was worth it, even though, as the surrounding greenery will take your flow of air away while waiting among the canopy.

A good bridge too far?

Probably Asia’s longest connections is also one of the scariest bridges in the world to help cross. Source Wikipedia Commons

This suspension bridge, also known as your Long River Connect, is located near Baoshan, Yunnan, China. Ready to accept traffic on May possibly 1st, 2016, a bridge is 1, 196 meters extensive, making it one of Asia’s longest. It is also probably Asia’s highest, towering 280 meters higher than the river.

Most people cross bridges daily, traversing some of the most serious bridges in the world. Several are known for their gut-churning heights, questionable system, and steep fields that seem to ditch all the laws from physics.

Even if you are certainly not brave enough to help you cross some of the most hazardous bridges, visiting the first is always fun! I find myself small while glazing in awe with the might and magnificence of bridges although enjoying the cold breeze from getting up high and additionally taking in the magnificent scenery of our delightful world. Do you?

Welcome to The Major Explore channel The Most Dangerous Bridges in the World 2022 Bridges can be a majestic representation of human achievement and some of them are impressive to look at. But there are few that may even worry the most extreme adventurers. While these are remarkable landmarks, you may think twice before setting foot on them.

There are bridges built in some of the most unusual places, at unimaginable heights of well over a thousand feet and lengths of more than a hundred kilometers. These days, China is one of the world’s leading bridge-building nations and has bridges with jaw-dropping architectural features, as well as the long-span and highest bridges of any country.

[dragonasheswrites-blog]

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 16: In Which Monsters Celebrate

...A holiday that is actually rather tame, given the circumstances.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 15: In Which Sans is Hired

Next: Chapter 17: In Which Alphys is Terrible

Click here for the story overview.

Sans stared at the items in his hands.  Why he’d ever thought this was a good idea was beyond him.

It had started off so simply.  In the Underground, clothing either had to be made by hand or repurposed from whatever fell into the old dump in Waterfall.  It had been Sans’s job to clothe himself and his brother, and he’d been...decent at it.  They were hardly fashionable (Papyrus had started dressing himself as soon as he was physically able, and wound up looking like a goth Halloween decoration) but they had adequate protection against attacks and the elements.

So.  Soon after Papyrus declared himself Boss and began enforcing his rule with more violence than Sans had been comfortable with, he’d found a door.  It was stupid - he couldn’t open it, and without some idea of what lay beyond he really couldn’t teleport to the other side - but he’d liked the door.  It represented something new, something different.  Something to hope for.  An escape.

Kinda like the barrier, now that he thought about it.

And yeah, okay, he may have told a few shitty jokes to himself out there, just for the sake of hearing his own voice, but it wasn’t like he’d expected anyone to talk back to him.

And yet, someone had.  Tori - though he hadn’t known she was Toriel, Queen of Monsters at the time - was funny.  Depressed as hell, and more than a little morbid, but when she put her mind to it she was hilarious.  For someone who hadn’t heard a decent joke in years, even from his own mouth, she was a small miracle.

They bonded over dumb jokes and self-loathing, even if they would never have admitted to either.  Maybe it was their sincere love of bad jokes, or maybe it was because there was a very solid door between them, but they became...allies, of a sort.

As allies, they exchanged stories and experiences.  Sans heard all about life in the Ruins (the most boring place in the Underground) and Tori heard about Snowdin (a very close second).  Once they realized that their respective lives were awfully dull, they moved on to something a little more practical: survival tips.

Like her daughter, Tori had an impressive fashion sense...and was very aware of the fact that Sans did not.  She was hardly subtle about it.  When he’d described the clothes he and his brother wore, she immediately offered her collection of knitting and crocheting patterns for him to choose from.  Yarn made from spun fiber was fairly common in the Underground, thanks in part to Muffet and her wild bands of spider mercenaries, so he agreed. He was never sure how she got them outside the door - there was never evidence of any evidence that it opened in any way - but from time to time he would find carefully copied patterns waiting for him at his spot.

He’d gotten pretty good at crocheting, actually, before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Sans would’ve been content to live his life that way: avoiding Boss, swapping dumb jokes with Tori, slacking off work and bugging Grillby.  A few cases as the Judge here and there, a few run-ins with Muffet, maybe a trip over to MTT’s arena if he needed to blow off some steam; everything was pretty good.

Then Alphys - mad scientist that she was - tried to come up with ‘the ultimate weapon’ and accidentally brought a certain prince back to life as a weepy, over-sensitive flower with horrifying powers, and Sans’s life had gone to shit.

Which led, more or less directly, to a skeleton sitting at his sentry post one evening in the middle of December with a bunch of soft brown yarn and a crochet hook he barely remembered how to use.

He had pulled and reworked the little disk he was trying to make several times already, but it still looked lumpy and misshapen to his eye sockets.  With a sigh, he pulled the trailing end of the yarn to unravel his stitches - again - and grabbed the pattern out of his inventory.

What he was trying to make was a hat and mittens.  Simple, right?  He’d made much more complicated things Underground.  Hell, he’d made Boss’s first few undershirts for his Royal Guard uniform; the Guard had armor aplenty, but hadn’t been equipped to deal with someone as...skinny as Boss.  Some sort of padding to protect bone from harsh metal - and to keep the large armor on at all - was necessary, but trying to crochet around bones without a reliable pattern was awful.

He’d gone through a lot of yarn on those undershirts, more than he could’ve afforded at the time if he’d been inclined to pay.  That was probably when Muffet had started that bounty on his head.

The point being, he should have been able to pick crocheting right back up.  It was easy.  Once upon a time he’d practically been able to do it in his sleep.  He probably had done it in his sleep at least once.

But no matter how he twisted and looped and tucked and wrapped, everything kept coming out lopsided.  The urge to tear the wimpy human yarn apart was growing stronger.  Hmph.  Muffet was one of the monsters who hadn’t elected to move to the Surface - she was ruling her extended family-slash-crime syndicate from a roomy cave on the border between Waterfall and Hotland, last he’d heard - but maybe he could armor up and pay her a visit?

Nah.  He didn’t have the guts to go back to the Underground so soon after his confrontation with Asgore.

(Heh!)

He dutifully made a new loop and started crocheting a few stitches.  He wanted to give up, but...sentry duty was terribly boring after dark.  He adjusted his lantern so he could see better, then carefully connected his row together so it formed a small circle.

Well.  That try didn’t look half bad, actually.  Maybe he was actually getting somewhere.  He made a few chain stitches and started on the second row.

It took him a few more false starts, but he managed to create what looked like a small skullcap by the time one of the heavy-armored guards who hailed from Hotland stomped up to his post, leaving steaming footsteps in the snow.

“...,” said the guard.  “... ….”

Sans narrowed his eye sockets at the guard.  “Whatever, pal.  You here to take over?”

“....”

“Ooookay.”  He barely remembered to snatch his project and slip it into his inventory before leaving his sentry post and heading back into town.

‘Christmas present in progress,’ his inventory called it.  He felt his skull turning colors.  How...embarrassing.  Accurate, but embarrassing.  Why did magic have to work on intent, anyways?

Okay, so he’d decided to make Frisk a Christmas gift.  She was human; Christmas was a human holiday.  If only she was a monster...but no.

Monsters were so much easier to deal with, sometimes.  Their winter holiday - Takersfaire - was traditionally a time when everyone put out the crap they didn’t want in booths, and folks snuck around and stole what they liked from other booths.  It kept them sharp, especially on the Surface where stealing was generally discouraged.

And sure, humans sometimes celebrated Takersfaire (even if they were too nice about it; most wouldn’t even take a half-hearted swing at a monster caught stealing from their booths) but he didn’t know if Frisk was one of them.  He’d never seen her steal anything while watching his and Boss’s booth, but then again that was the point.

So...Christmas gift it was.

He felt stupid.  He and Frisk were barely kind-of friends.  But...he’d been cleaning out his closet, looking for a place to hide his new sock collection, and he’d come across his folder of crochet patterns.  There was a pattern for a neat hat with matching mittens that he’d never gotten a chance to try, and on a whim he’d picked up some yarn while he was getting socks and gloves for his uniform.

Frisk just happened to be the only human adult he really knew; that was it.  And the mittens, at least, were clearly designed for a human; he wasn’t sure how Tori had gotten ahold of the pattern, now that he thought about it.  They were far too small for her and far too big for a skeleton, at least without serious modification.

He was going to justify it by making a matching set for Attie, but Christmas was only two weeks away.  With the way his crochet skills were going he doubted he’d be able to finish anything.

Sans shuffled into his apartment (Boss was gone again) and flopped onto his couch.  He didn’t know where this motivation to make things was coming from.  Maybe it was because he’d taken to secretly working out between jobs sometimes; Undyne had been getting on his case, and he’d noticed shifts in his magic from the exertion.  It was almost like he was...getting more energy, or something.

Mostly, it made him twitchy.

He sighed and took the ‘Christmas present in progress’ out of his inventory.  Might as well do something useful.

That was his routine over the next week or so.  He got up, went to his jobs, worked out (but not too much; he had a reputation to uphold) and slowly made progress on Frisk’s present.  He was getting better at stitching; by the time he finished up the mittens, he was no longer pulling out rows for uneven stitches.  He did have to redo a good portion of the left mitten because he’d gotten stressed out and pulled the stitches too tight, but that was just because he was a neurotic mess.

He was sitting in his sentry station one evening having just finished tying off the second mitten when he got a text from Undyne.

Capn Undie 4:52 PM SO You ARE coming to Takersfaire in New Home, RIGHT???

Shit.  Right.  Takersfaire was that evening.  He knew he’d told Boss he wasn’t going, so he was probably working...right?  He checked his inventory.  The crumpled piece of scrap paper he’d written his work schedule on was one of five items labeled ‘Piece of junk,’ so it took him a bit to find it.

You 5:03 PM Uh u have me working a double shift 2nite

Capn Undie 5:12 PM CRAP I DO

You 5:15 PM Yeah bcuz the dogi r still out Puppies need food n stuff Who knew

Capn Undie 5:20 PM BUT THEN WHO WILL WATCH YOUR BOOTH???

You 5:22 PM Boss…?

Capn Undie 5:25 PM NO HE’S TOO HARD ON THE KIDS YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DUST KIDS ON TAKERSFAIRE

You 5:30 PM Wait he dusted a kid? When was this?

Capn Undie 5:34 PM Nah, I got him in time BUT HE ALMOST DID

You 5:39 PM I dont know what u want me to do about it

Capn Undie 5:43 PM I WANT YOU TO Wait Oh.  Nevermind.

You 5:48 PM So am I working or what Hello Undyne? Hello?

He leaned back in his seat, propping his feet up against his sentry post.  Weird.  What was that about?

Sans hadn’t actively participated in Takersfaire since he was a babybones, but he did usually watch his and Boss’s booth.  He hated it.  Strong monsters sometimes used Takersfaire as a time to show off: the fancier the booth, the more confident its owner was that he’d be able to hold onto all his items.  It ran a little contrary to the spirit of things, but traditions were weird.

Because Boss was Boss, the skeleton brothers’ booth was always one of the most elaborate in the Kingdom of Monsters.   Also because Boss was Boss, most of the items were bones.  There were a few real goodies as well - electronics that Sans fixed up, plates of whatever Boss’s favorite dish was, envelopes of money, etc. - but mostly it was bones.  Bone attacks, at that, just to make things a little less fair.   Touching them wasn’t exactly what most folks would call safe.  And yet, Sans was expected to guard it.  And stay awake while doing so.

It worried Sans that Boss had taken the news that he was on duty during Takersfaire so well.  A calm Boss always had something up his sleeve.  He had no idea what it could be, though.

About an hour later, Sans was woken up from his usual nap by his text alert.

Capn Undie 6:55 PM *1 picture message received PUT YOUR EYE SOCKETS ON THIS

The picture was Undyne in full armor, posing dramatically, her helmet was tucked under one arm and the other around the shoulders of a human woman.  The woman was wearing a beaked mask of dramatic red and orange feathers that matched the hues of her long, flowing dress.  Sans couldn’t place the outfit's reference (some sort of bird??), but after a careful examination he was stunned to recognize the woman as Frisk.

He was so distracted that he almost missed Attie by Frisk’s side, which would have been a tragedy.  Her face was painted in an obvious facsimile of a skull, and she was wearing a hooded onesie with the pattern of a skeleton printed on it.  He considered being mildly offended (humans and their obsession with naked skeletons were a source of constant confusion for him) but Attie had put a pink skirt on over top.

You 7:04 PM Wow I dont recognize those monsters Who r they?

Capn Undie 7:10 PM *3 picture messages received

The first two pictures were both of a twirling Attie.  Behind her was a booth decorated in ribbons and strands of beads, a large Delta Rune symbol on the front.  The ambassador and her daughter had brought what looked like chocolate cookies in cheerful baggies, as well as some small toys and colorful pieces of clothing.  There was nothing particularly expensive, but the items were personal and useful...especially to those who still lived in the Underground.

The final picture was of Frisk.  She was looking at something off to her left, her head turned to expose the gentle curves of her neck and shoulders.  One hand was raised, lifting the mask just enough to reveal her face.  She was smiling, the same way she always smiled at Attie.

On the table behind her, one of the bags of cookies was missing.

Sans put his head down on the counter of his station, trying to control his trembling arms.   This was the woman he’d killed - sometimes slowly and painfully - dozens of times.  Maybe hundreds of times.  His memories of previous timelines had always been a little fuzzy; he didn’t know, really, how much pain he’d caused her.

And yet…

Don’t.  Don’t even think it.  It’s pointless.  It will only bring heartbreak.

...and yet...some part of him seemed to gravitate towards her.  She wasn’t just the young woman who broke the barrier, or the Kingdom of Monsters’ primary ambassador, or even Attie’s mother.  She wasn’t just someone he’d had an on-and-off passive-aggressive feud with for the past eight years.

She was someone who cared enough to advocate on his behalf.  He had no doubt that she was the one who had sicced Undyne on him.  Undyne rarely cared for anyone but herself (unless caffeine was involved), and yet she’d gone out of her way to help him on multiple occasions.  She’d befriended him.

He owed Frisk a lot.

Staying out of her life so he wouldn’t drag her down seemed like a small price to pay for all she’d done for his sorry ass, but…

“Attie misses you.”

...was that really the best option?  He really didn’t know what was “best” anymore.  He was beginning to doubt that Boss knew what was best, and the past ten years of his life had revolved around the fact that Boss always knew what was best.  The obvious course of action would be to talk to Frisk or someone close to her, but his soul clenched at the thought.

It was a fear of rejection, he realized.  If Undyne or Tori or someone else who knew Frisk well told him to stay away from her, he would have no reason to wonder.  He would have no reason to hope.  It was...more frightening than he wanted to admit.

Capn Undie 7:58 PM OI BONEHEAD!!!! ARE YOU ASLEEP???

You 8:05 PM Nah They look cool Thanks for the pics

Capn Undie 8:07 PM YEAH!!!  They clean up nice, don’t they? Hey, Attie wants to stop by your station after this.

You 8:10 PM You wanna let a kid go tramping down the mountain in the dark and the cold? Also it just started snowing Again

Capn Undie 8:19 PM Fishsticks Frisk got pulled into a meeting Maybe another time BUT I’m gonna take LOTS more pictures So many pictures it’s gonna BLOW YOUR PHONE UP But I’m NOT gonna send them to you YET I HAVE A PLAN GO VISIT ALPHYS SOON I PUT UP WITH HER FOR AN HOUR AND I WON’T LET IT GO TO WASTE

You 8:31 PM Fine

Sans groaned.  He’d been putting off going to see Alphys as long as possible (her broken surveillance equipment was still burning a hole in his inventory), but it looked like his luck had run out.  He really did need to see her records, and if Undyne was willing to consult the Royal Scientist about something...well.  It was probably important.

Everyone knew Undyne and Alphys had hated each other for years, ever since that little incident where Alphys had ‘accidentally’ added something experimental to the captain’s tea during a meeting, and Undyne had responded by trying to get the scientist fired.  Neither had ever forgiven the other, though Alphys remained disturbingly obsessed in that odd way she tended to fixate.

Regardless, Sans had a pretty good idea of what Alphys was messing with, and he didn’t blame Undyne for her reaction.  It was one of the reasons he avoided Alphys in general.  If she was trying to dose people with what he thought she was using…

He put his head back onto the sentry station counter.  Dozing through the rest of his shift seemed like a great option.  He almost managed it, too, but a distant bark from Lesser Dog at the next station over woke him up about half an hour before the end of their shift.

Teleporting over, he evaluated the situation.  There was an abundance of dog tracks in the thin layer of snow, but Lesser Dog was...completely fine??

“Heya, LD.  Heard your alert.  What’s up?”

*Lesser Dog is fine!  And not hiding anyone!*

“Uh-huh.  Do I need to get Undyne?”

*No!*

“‘Cause you know she’ll be upset if she has to leave her party to deal with something out here.”

*Lesser Dog is not hiding anyone!*

“LD…”

A shifting under Lesser Dog’s station revealed two white pointed ears and a small black nose against the backdrop of snow.  The nose twitched, then retreated.

Lesser Dog tried - and failed - to look like he hadn’t noticed.

“And who was that?

The sentry gave a huff and woofed something Sans didn’t catch.  A sleek grey female dog and a white puppy wiggled out from under the wooden counter, ears pulled back and tails low.

It took him a moment to recognize Lesser Dog’s mate and pup.  The puppy had been born not long before Frisk fell into the Underground, and was - if Sans recalled correctly - the only survivor from his litter.  He didn’t know how long dog monsters took to grow up, but the pup was still in stripes.  So...longer than actual dogs, then.

“Celebratin’ Takersfaire, then?”

*Yes,* the female woofed.  *Darker Dog was a bad girl for bringing Tiny Dog up here.  Sorry.  Please do not report Lesser Dog to fish-captain.*

The sadistic part of Sans wanted to, just because it was funny watching the dogs squirm.  Besides, he knew Undyne wouldn’t be too hard on them; she needed every available sentry, she didn’t believe in dusting kids, and it wouldn’t make sense to punish Darker Dog when the other two were off the hook.

“Eh, don’t worry about it.  You helpin’ your dad keep an eye out for humans, pup?”

Tiny Dog yipped excitedly.  He clearly shared none of his parents’ concerns about consequences.

“As long as everyone’s safe.  Hey, let me know if you run into any trouble, ‘kay, LD?”

Lesser Dog woofed his surprised agreement and gave his mate a fond lick on the mouth.  Sans immediately retreated back to his own station; the dogs were notoriously shameless when it came to PDA, and he did not need to see that.

He’d just sat down and settled in when his phone buzzed again.  He unlocked it, expecting to see more pictures from Undyne, but was instead greeted by the harsh and imposing features of his younger brother.

Boss 1:44 AM IN YOUR ABSENCE, I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY DEFENDED OUR BOOTH!! *1 picture message received

Boss had decorated the booth himself over the past week, entirely without Sans’s help (for once).  It was black and appeared to be covered in tiny white painted bones of various kinds.  Whatever Boss’s flaws, he had a good eye for style...and a lot of patience with things that held his attention.

An elaborate bone display was set up on and around the booth.  A few plates of something (lasagna, maybe) were barely visible through the latticework, but he couldn’t quite make it out.

You 1:48 AM Nice boss

Boss 1:54 AM I WILL HAVE NONE OF YOUR SLANDER!!! I AM NOT A NICE MONSTER!! I AM CRUEL AND FEARED BY ALL, HUMAN AND MONSTER!! THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, SCOURGE OF THE UNDERGROUND!! AND ALSO THE SURFACE!!

You 1:59 AM Right of course

Boss 2:01 AM NATURALLY, I AM CORRECT!!

“I’m here to take over for ya,” said a gruff voice.

Sans pocketed his phone and looked up.  “Heya, Doggo.”

Doggo tensed when he stopped moving.  “What?  Hello?  Ya still here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Grrrrr.  Get out of here, bone bag.”

Sans smirked and walked back towards the barrier.  As soon as he was clear, he teleported straight home.  He didn’t care if Boss punished him for it; two six-hour shifts back to back were exhausting enough without having to walk an hour back into town.

He fell asleep to dreams of a little skeleton girl in a pink dress who kept burying him in leaf piles, and asking him why he was crying on such a happy day.

[invisible-pink-toast]

i was rewatching sense8 and was pleasantly surprised by tom 

who is tom? fair - he’s tegan’s husband. he’s only in a couple of scenes, but he’s a breath of fresh air in nomi’s terrible family 

so for context nomi’s family is generally awful. they’re rich white cishet’s from san-fransico’s “upper tax bracket” as amanita calls them - transphobic and classist and always wanting to uphold the family’s reputation, and they think nomi jeopardises that. they exclude nomi from any and all family events, never talk about her, and if she does come up they deadname her and never use the right pronouns. 

nomi has made a new family - with her cluster, her girlfriend amanita, her best friend bug and amanita’s family

the exception the horrible marks family is nomi’s sister tegan. who’s a sweetheart - between doing charity work and learning to understand her sister’s transition and then being 100% in support of her, tegan was dating tom. we don’t know much about him, but he seems to also be from this “upper tax bracket”. 

despite nomi being exclude from most family events, tegan asks her to be her maid of honour. this is despite opposition from her parents, and the fact that at this point nomi is a fugitive (being hunted by corrupt government officials, but that gets worked out before the wedding). we hear about the shit that janet and lawrence marks are giving tegan, but there’s never a mention that tom has any issues. 

at the wedding rehearsal, tom is actively encouraging in nomi’s speech that she was nervous for, and is smiling proudly at her for the whole speech. even though the speech is mainly about nomi and tegan’s relationship, and nomi talks very openly about her transition, tom is in full support, even as janet and lawrence and others are clearly uncomfortable. 

the only time he is uncomfortable is when nomi tell him to treat her sister well of else. given that she directly threatens him asjfl;ksahdf;lashkfd;hf (even more terrifying is that wolfgang is the one to do it) it’s a pretty fair reaction

and even then he’s cheersing with everyone else like ten seconds later

at tegan and tom’s wedding it gets crashed by asshole fbi agents looking for nomi (who then have to leave in disgrace after realising they have no warrants). through the whole thing tom is just looking out for tegan when the fbi agent threatens to arrest her, and then looking around in awe when they leave. 

he has no hard feelings towards nomi, and seems actually really impressed with her

there is a really shitty transphobic groomsman at the wedding - but he doesn’t have a name and we have no idea his relationship to the bride and groom. is he tom’s brother, does he work with the marks family, idk. he’s only rude to nomi when they’re alone (and then gets his wrist almost broken), so i highly doubt tegan or tom knew he was such a shithead, and now that nomi is opening their eyes to a world of acceptance, community and found family, they can find some new friends 

he and tegan don’t appear again until they show up at nomi and amanita’s wedding. nomi, with her incredibly big heart and desire to just be loved and accepted, invited her shithead parents to her wedding (even though she has her best friend walk her down the aisle ha), as well as her sister and brother in law. janet of course starts to make a scene when the wedding is held on top of the eiffel tower

the whole time Tom is just awed at the venue, and then interrupts his new scary mother in law to immediately disagree with her and praise the wedding 

when the marks’ are introduce to amanita’s parents (her mother grace and her three dads who are all in a poly relationship), nomi’s parents are shocked and very stiff, tom immediately introduces himself and shakes hands with everyone

tom and tegan are seen around the wedding - cheering when nomi and amanita tie the knot, dancing with the newly weds and amanita’s parents, and cracking up at janet and lawrence marks getting accidentally high 

overall tom is a very minor character. he really does only two things: gaze adoringly at his wife, and support his new sister-in-law. and given nomi’s shaky family history, it’s so cool that she’s got another new family member who accepts her wholeheartedly. 

maybe at family functions with nomi, amanita, her parents and bug - tegan and tom can be welcome too, another extension to their loving family!