Idol Burning

Warning... or Invitation? That choice is yours. This isn’t a fairytale. This isn’t about sweet kisses beneath cherry blossoms or soft smiles under the stars. No. This is raw, This is reckless, This is “Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire” A collection of BL short stories carved from lust, laced with obsession, and kissed by chaos. Each chapter stands on its own, a world where strangers become addictions, roommates cross lines, enemies blur into lovers, and the line between want and need snaps without warning. These men don’t fall in love. They fall into temptation. They crash into each other like lightning against the sea, loud, unforgiving, and beautiful in their destruction. You’ll find no gentle romance here. Only the ache of fingertips brushing where they shouldn't, the weight of glances held too long, the gasp before the plunge. This is for the ones who know love isn’t always tender. That sometimes, the most unforgettable stories are the ones written in bruises and longing. This is for those who crave stories that leave a mark, who don’t flinch when desire gets messy, when hearts bleed a little before they beat as one. Not for the faint-hearted. Not for the clean-handed. This is for the bold, the brave, the ones who dare to touch the flame even if it burns. So turn the page. Step into the fire. But don’t say I didn’t warn you--- Because once the embers catch, they never go out.

i·dol·a·try īˈdälətrē noun : An extreme admiration, love, or reverence for someone. "She was afraid her attraction towards him was increasing to idolatry." UNEDITED

My husband's true love sets my home on fire when she learns I'm pregnant. She wants me to burn to death. I don't cry for help. Instead, I drag my unconscious mother-in-law to her feet and try to get us to safety. In my past life, I screamed for help while trapped in the flames. My husband came to save his mother and me. His true love wanted to prove that she was more important than me, so she ran back into the fire. She later died due to severe burns. After her death, my husband said she deserved it for being an arsonist. He treated me with the utmost love and care. But after my child's birth, he sacrificed her at his true love's grave. "The love of my life is dead because of you and your mother! You can repent for your sins in hell!" I die with him in a moment of despair. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back in the sea of flames.

Three years ago, Samantha Jade and her parents were trapped in a raging fire. She watched with her own eyes as the flames devoured her mother and father. At the critical moment, it was Connor Parker who charged in and saved her. She fell hopelessly in love with him. For the following three years, she drowned in the tenderness he wove so carefully around her. But later, Samantha discovered the truth: that fire three years ago—Connor had set it. He had approached her on purpose, loved her on purpose, all to avenge his first love. Every bit of love, every gentle word, every beautiful moment between them—none of it was real. It had all been a lie. Since he hated her that much, Samantha decided to play along. Amid Connor's revenge, she faked her death. But when he saw the charred body—believing it was hers—Connor lost his mind.

Just because my sister, Yvonne Lindell, claims I swapped Grandma's medicine with sugar pellets and caused her death, Mom locks me inside the cremator. I kneel and beg, but Mom spits at me in disgust. "You wretched girl, stay still! You killed your grandma by secretly switching her medicine. Now go repent to her properly!" Dad hesitates, unable to bear it. "Maybe we should let her out. What if—" "What are you afraid of? Don't forget that she killed your mother! If we don't teach her a lesson this time, who knows who she'll kill next!" The voices outside the door gradually fade, and my heart sinks to the bottom. The flames slowly begin to lick at my body. In despair, I clutch Grandma's cold hand beside me. "Grandma, I'm sorry. I should've taken better care of your medicine. But I swear, I didn't replace it with sugar pellets. Maybe only in death, can I truly atone for this sin…"

I burned my painting right in front of the students and university staff. Thunderous applause filled the hall. Everyone thought it was some kind of performance. But my senior in the graduate program panicked. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, his voice tight. “Connor, have you gone mad? This is your only shot to prove yourself!” I shook him off, cold. A chance? That was his chance, right? During my past life, he stole the painting I poured my heart and soul into and entered it in the competition ahead of me. The composition, the colors, even my original technique… He copied all of it. He won the Gold Award for the National Youth Art Competition, signed with a top gallery, and basked in glory. Meanwhile, I was branded a shameless plagiarist. The insults and curses overwhelmed me completely. "Get out of the art scene already!" “A plagiarist like you should just die!” His fans stormed my studio, smashed my tools, and broke my right hand. With my world in ruins, I jumped off the studio roof. Opening my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day my senior accused me of plagiarism.