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Lord Have Mercy Death Note

A withering flower at devil's mercy

“These bedchambers have missed your scent.” His voice, low and rough, made her pulse quicken. Her fear surged, boundless, as he closed the stained glass doors behind him. “Please… let me go,” she pleaded, trembling as he pulled her close, his touch burning against her skin. “You fled this place while carrying my child. Why did you come back?” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck as they had so many times before. “I… don’t know,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper. Luciana Mircea de Amanécer, princess of the Holy Empire that ruled the skies, had once lived in a world of beauty and privilege—a devoted father, joyful sisters, wealth, and a loving fiancé. Yet that life shattered with a single conversation. One day, her father appeared in her chambers, eyes solemn, bearing news that upended her world. “You will be married,” he said, but the name wasn’t that of the man she cherished. Instead, she was to be wed to the ruthless crown prince of the rival Demon Empire, an alliance forged to quell the simmering tensions between their kingdoms. “Father, please…” she begged. “My child,” he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. “It is your duty as the firstborn princess. This marriage will protect the realm… and your little sisters.” For the first time in her life, Luciana saw him bow to her, his plea wordless but clear. Yielding to her father’s desperate request, she accepted her fate. In a single day, she went from princess to wife, her dreams abandoned and her future reshaped. But the white wedding gown was soon stained crimson, marking her descent into a life she could never have anticipated. Could she learn to accept a man for whom compassion was an unfamiliar luxury, or would the love she had left behind rise to rescue her?
Akira_Kanesada · 75.3K Views

A Note in the Café

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirled through the small café. Mia, a talented but self-doubting columnist, finds solace in her favorite neighborhood café, where the comforting hum of coffee machines and quiet conversations inspire her best work. Across the room sits a reserved bookshop owner with a passion for literature and a knack for lingering in the background. Mia noticed him, how he had a quiet intensity about him that intrigued her. But she was too reserved to approach, so their interactions were limited to fleeting glances and unspoken words. One destined morning, a torn page from reserved bookshop owner's favorite novel flutters to Mia’s feet. Scrawled in the margins is a note that reads: “If we wait for the perfect moment, it may never come.” Assuming it’s an accidental drop, Mia returns the page, only to learn this man left it for her intentionally—a quiet declaration of interest from a man who has admired her from afar. What starts as a hesitant introduction blossoms into a connection neither of them expected. As Mia helped him rediscover his long-abandoned dream of becoming a writer, he teaches her to embrace spontaneity and trust her instincts. Together, they prove that love, like the best stories, often begins with a leap of faith and a touch of serendipity. Set against the warm and inviting backdrop of their favorite café, "A Note in the Café" is a heartwarming tale about finding courage, following your heart, and discovering that the perfect moment is the one you create together.
Rareer_Gem · 3.8K Views

The Monster Hunter's Notes

On the day I was born, my village was struck by a series of bizarre events. First, Old Wang's white-haired dog, which had been with him for eight years, donned a black robe and stood upright, wandering the streets before stopping at my house to bow. Meanwhile, a horde of unusually large rats with blood-red eyes scurried through the streets, gathering at my doorstep and refusing to leave. This unusual sight enraged the village cats, sparking a fierce battle. Contrary to their usual behavior, the rats fearlessly clashed with the cats, leading to a gruesome scene with casualties on both sides. The villagers watched in stunned silence, while the elderly commented that such unnatural occurrences were omens of chaos as per ancient beliefs. That night, the strange occurrences continued with eerie opera singing emanating from an open space near my home. Curious onlookers ventured out only to discover the performers were figures made of paper, and the audience was a motley crew of supernatural beings surrounding a coffin. Inside the coffin, an old woman watched the spectacle with great interest. This sight terrified the villagers, who fled back to their homes, praying fervently for divine intervention from every deity they knew. The entire village, including my family, spent a sleepless night in fear. The following day, the creatures had vanished, leaving behind a mess that confirmed the night's events were not a dream. In rural areas, such supernatural incidents were often taken seriously, causing widespread alarm and speculation about a curse on my family. My grandfather, dressed in tattered clothes, rushed from the mountains and without explanation, began to beat my father and uncles severely, afterwards holding me and weeping bitterly. He ominously remarked that I was born a "bearer of sins, despised by both humans and ghosts," hinting at a mysterious affliction tied to my existence. That night, I developed a high fever and struggled between life and death, with my grandfather and uncles fighting off a malevolent spirit attempting to drain my life force. They fell ill from the ordeal, taking a month to recover. Years later, I learned of my grandfather's reasons for naming me Zhang Jiu Zui, meaning "Nine Sins," reflecting the burdens I carried from birth. Despite my introverted nature, inherited from my father's quiet demeanor, my grandfather took pride in my disinterest in worldly affairs, often taking me to his well-kept but humble abode filled with books on exorcism, folklore, and esoteric knowledge. I spent years immersed in these tales of demons and diviners, shaping my understanding of the world until academic pressures from high school forced me to visit less. My high school years ended in disappointment when illness ruined my chances at university exams, an event my grandfather oddly celebrated as fortunate. After deciding to retake the exams, my life took an unexpected turn when several luxury cars arrived at our village, heading straight for my grandfather's humble home. The well-dressed occupants from the cars approached with formal documents, knocking on his door with a sense of urgency and respect.
jackpoker · 3.1K Views
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