What Is The Meaning Behind Ophelia'S Art In Hamlet?

⚠️ WARNING: THIS IS THE ART OF SINS. If you’re looking for sweet kisses and gentle lovemaking, slam this book shut right now. These pages don’t whisper desire—they drag you by the throat, rip your clothes off, and fuck you senseless. Expect raw, filthy, no-limits taboo erotica: step-daddy claiming his little secret, ruthless alphas knotting and breeding their omega, mafia underbosses turning debt into dripping gangbangs, professors punishing their forbidden pets, and every dirty, degrading, creampie-soaked fantasy you were never supposed to want. This is sin as high art—rough, relentless, and completely addictive. 18+ only. Proceed if you dare to get ruined.😈💦

René Huang is a French-Chinese Painter who lives in France. He lives alone there when his parents are living in China. He is famous, rich, and handsome. Everything in his life was perfect until finally, unexpected events started happening in his life. He painted some paintings in his sleep, and there was a secret behind them. He wanted to find out the secret, and when he became a guest lecturer in an art university, he met a student who was related to the paintings. Their relationship was not good at first, but when they were investigating the paintings together, the romance started blooming. Note: This novel is inspired by my fanfiction that was posted on another platform. The idea and the story are mines. No plagiarism. Cover by MichelleLeeee

My studio's website receives an appraisal order worth 450 thousand dollars all of a sudden. The original poster of the order claims that this is a pre-wedding gift her fiance has gotten her. The comment section goes wild instantly. "If the appraisal fee alone is already 450 thousand dollars, does this mean the painting is worth 100 million dollars? Your husband really is generous to you!" "I'm so envious of you! You really are lucky to be able to marry such a rich man!" The poster quickly replies, "Luck has nothing to do with this. I fought for this fate with everything I had. I'll be frank with you; back then, my fiance still had a girlfriend. But everything I want in life will eventually be mine. "So, I slandered his girlfriend and pretended to be aggrieved just so my fiance's heart would go out to me. As time went on, his love for his girlfriend faded away. "In the end, all I have to do is lift a finger, and the girlfriend got her limbs crushed. After that, she got discarded like garbage." The Internet users post their replies of disbelief. There's no way someone will hurt their ex-girlfriend to this degree, after all. They all think that the original poster is being excessively dramatic. Someone even berates her for throwing a wrench into a relationship. Not only does she not feel ashamed, but she also finds it an extremely proud thing to have done. Even my assistant, Chiara Belmonte, tells me that this client seems like a nutjob and suggests that I decline this order. I don't say anything. Instead, I just tap "confirm". After all, what the poster said is the truth. The ex-girlfriend that she has described in her post is me.

At the bride selection ball, the queen herself chose me to be the crown prince's consort. Then my cousin Yvonne Johnson suddenly dropped to her knees in the middle of the hall and presented an erotic painting to the court. The woman in the painting had no face, but the rose birthmark at my waist had been rendered in chilling detail. Yvonne's eyes were red, her voice soft and cool. "I love my cousin dearly, but I can't deceive the queen. Your Majesty, please look closely. My cousin's virtue is compromised. She isn't fit to be the crown prince's consort." In a single night, my reputation was destroyed. I became the most shameless woman in the capital. Yvonne smiled at me, sweet as ever. "If your mother hadn't drawn your birthmark herself, no one would've believed that the eldest daughter of a duke's household would do something so indecent." My mother looked at me with an expression that held only resignation. "Your aunt once saved my life. I made a promise to Yvonne. I swore I'd give her the finest match in the world. But as long as you're here, you're in her way. Charlotte, my hands are tied." The ground dropped out from under me. It was my mother who'd had that painting made. She'd destroyed my name, my future, all to help her favorite niece marry the crown prince. Using my so-called disgrace as justification, she ordered me to hang myself. Meanwhile, my cousin married into the palace in glory, dressed in the gown and jewels that had been meant for me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of the bride selection ball.

Merida was a certified black sheep of the family. She loves to hear her grandmother's story about fairies, dragons, pirates and princesses and her favorite was the tale about the legendary pirate named Escarial, and a Princess called Athalia. Listening to her grandma’s folktales was her routine all throughout her eighteen years of existence. That’s why when her grandmother died without having at least a last talk with her, she turned badly depressed. She didn’t go to school at all, and just stayed in her grandmother’s room to lock herself away from the rest of the world. Three days after her grandmother’s funeral, strange things happened in her room. The painting her old woman often gazed on suddenly moved and glowed. She succumbed to it, helpless, and had nothing to do to save herself because of the force that was beyond overwhelming. The next thing she knew, she was in North Sonnenfield. What’s more shocking to her was the name she’s called as by her servants; Princess Athalia—the heir of the throne, and the only daughter of King Eldar of North Sonnenfield. She was in awe, because she remembered that King Eldar was the character in the story. The palace where she found herself lost was the same place where the brave princess who ventured the dangerous sea had lived. She loves being in a Sonnenfield. However, she knew to herself that the day will come when she would wake up from a dream. But life always has a twist because Captain Escarial came to the scene. She expects that he will be gentleman just like pirate captain in the book. But to her horror, this Captain Escarial is snobbish, rude and proud. Oh, how she hates him!

My mother was the best portrait artist in the police station. She had a strong sense of justice and brooked no evil. However, all I got was a sharp retort when I called her to save me. "You know it's your sister's coming-of-age celebration today, and you're cursing her? Kidnapped, are you? Fine, the kidnappers can kill you for all I care." She assumed it was a prank call. So, she refused to go to the police station and do her job. I wasn't saved in time and was tortured to death. When the DNA report came out, she came to the scene all wobbly. She drew a portrait of me with my bones as reference, her hand trembling all the way. "Jessica? It can't be her. This is a mistake!" She tried again and again. Yet, it didn't matter how many times she redid it as the portrait showed my face. My mother, who had hated me my whole life, teared up.