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... reeze ability anymore. Moreover, we didn’t waste too much time before. He can’t leave this mountain yet.”

“Everyone, I suddenly have a bad feeling.”At this moment, another woman’s voice sounded. Although her words were filled with speculation and uncertainty.., after hearing this, everyone was stunned.

This was because the one who spoke was the god of tarot cards among the new gods. Tarot cards were a kind of divination tool. Their origins were quite mysterious. Although they had exp ...

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Ke Yin has a problem. Well, several problems.First, he's actually Kane from Earth.Second, he's stuck in a cultivation world where people don't just split mountains with a sword strike, they build entire universes inside their souls (and no, it's not a meditation metaphor).Third, he's got a system with a snarky spiritual assistant that lets him possess the recently deceased across dimensions.And finally, the elders at the Azure Peak Sect are asking why his soul realm contains both demonic cultivation and holy arts? Must be a natural talent.

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The traitor Gu Mang returned to his home kingdom again. Everyone rejoiced in his banishment. It was said the one who hated him most was his closest friend – the cold and stoic Young Master Mo.

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His relationship with the traitor Gu Mang: they’d slept together before.

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MTL - Doomsday Wonderlandv9 Chapter 2291
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“I think… my boyfriend is trying to kill me,” Lin Sanjiu muttered.

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What if earth devolved into a apocalyptic hellhole? What if you found out you not only have to survive just one apocalyptic event but have to struggle through multiple worlds with different end-world scenarios? And you get to meet more superpowered crazies than you can imagine!

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“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.