The Court of Midnight Thorns Yoon Jeonghan was born into an empire built on generational cruelty and silk-lined corruption. The Yoon Conglomerate doesn't raise children. It breeds heirs, sharpens them, and sacrifices them when convenient. And Jeonghan? Jeonghan refuses to be sacrificed. So when his family tries to chain him into a corporate marriage alliance, he retaliates in the only language they understand. He becomes a scandal they can't control. And for that, he picks the worst possible partner. The one man the Yoons can't buy, silence, or leash. Choi Seungcheol. The bodyguard with the iron spine. The ex-special forces ghost the company hired to babysit their heir. A man who follows rules because he respects structure-not the people who think they own it. Jeonghan proposes a fake relationship to sabotage the marriage market and humiliate the board. Seungcheol accepts, not out of loyalty, but because he's tired of watching the Yoons grind Jeonghan into a polished puppet. Suddenly, Jeonghan's "pretend boyfriend" becomes his only shield against blackmail, hostile mergers, staged scandals, and a rival conglomerate that wants the Yoon throne-and Jeonghan-destroyed. But protection turns possessive. Lies turn intimate. And Seungcheol is starting to treat Jeonghan like a territory he intends to defend. What was meant to annoy the empire becomes a war against it. Because Seungcheol wasn't hired to love Jeonghan. But he will happily dismantle an empire for the privilege of touching him. And Jeonghan, who wanted to inconvenience his family, never expected the most dangerous inconvenience of all-- wanting the one man who could burn their whole world down.

A collection of Seventeen one shots Requests are open

Kalopsia (n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are Synopsis If someone asked Jeonghan to sum up his life, he'd laugh bittery and describe it in one single word--a mess. A twisted, grinding mess of piling bills, soul-crushing job hours, dead-end classes and a father who leeched off every scrap of dignity from him. He wasn't particularly proud of how he'd end up in the underground rings of hell, but at least it meant he could keep a roof over his head. Seokmin was a fire incarnate--young, relentless and barrelling towards the top with a cheeky grin and fists on fire. He was a rising star--a name both adored and loathed in the stinking cages. And he had an eye for Jeonghan. But so did Seungcheol--Seokmin's rival, hungry, sharp, and dangerous in every sense. He was drawn to Jeonghan in a way that left bruises deeper than any fight. For Jeonghan, these fights were survival--a bloody ticket out of debt and misery. For Seokmin, these fights were his passion--a future he'd burn for. For Seungcheol, these fights were a weapon--a way to dominate and claim. And when their paths collided, Jeonghan knew one of them was going to end up buried under the cages' unforgiving, blood-stained floors. He just prayed it wasn't him.

Not Quite Dead Yet Synopsis Little Keld is the kind of town where cats nap in bakery windows and nothing bad ever happens- until Seungcheol Choi, the beloved high school teacher, vanishes without a trace. Everyone grieved. Everyone moved on. Everyone, except his husband. Jeonghan Yoon didn't lose his mind when Seungcheol disappeared. He lost it long before that-probably somewhere between the first fight and the last kiss. So when the police called it an accident, he nodded. When the neighbors sent casseroles, he smiled. And when he buried Seungcheol under the peonies behind their house, he made sure they bloomed beautifully that year. But then- a year later, on a perfectly unremarkable evening, Seungcheol came home. Same face. Same voice. Same wedding ring catching the porch light. Except Jeonghan remembers breaking that hand when he buried him. Little Keld calls it a miracle. Jeonghan calls it what it is-a haunting in the shape of a man he couldn't stop loving, and couldn't quite keep dead. And when that familiar hand slides over his again, warm, alive, impossible-he doesn't pull away. He just listens to the garden shifting outside, soil breathing, roots whispering, welcome back. After all, who wants to be the only one in town insisting that their resurrected husband is an impostor?