Lord Xue Ying - Chapter 89 - Who Exactly is He?

Mo Ran thought becoming Chu Wanning’s disciple was a mistake.His shizun was really too much like a cat while he himself was a dumb pup who’d only slobber and wag his tail.Dogs and cats were different by nature; originally, the dumb pup didn’t want to extend his furry paws to that cat.He originally thought, dogs should be with dogs, like his shixiong, beautiful and tame like a cute Japanese Spitz, and the two of them together would surely be a match made in heaven.Yet, after having died and reborn, after having lived two lives, the one he hauled back each time to his den in the end was always the one he couldn’t stand at first: that snow-white kitty shizun.Dumb off the charts husky gong x proud, aggravated, big white cat shou Emperor of the cultivation world Mo Weiyu deceived elders and slaughtered ancestors, and committed all crimes and sins known to man. After ending his own life, he was reborn and transmigrated to the year he first became a disciple.In the shell of a boy held an old and weary soul. After coming back to life,truth after truths that had been hidden below the surface in the previous life floated to the top and broke through the waters one after the other.Of all the revelations, the one that stunned him the most was that the Shizun he had hated to the bone in his previous life had always been protecting him from the shadows…The heart of man can change; even demons and monsters can become compassionate and do good. Only, he had sinned deeply. Can the blood on his hands ever be cleansed?Novel written by *Meatbun doesn't eat meat*

The world has changed into something like a game.

It resembles a survival virtual reality game where people were attacked by zombies and monsters.

And I was the last user of that game.

She was floating.. no, hanging! On what?! She struggled to get back on her feet but was pulled into something so.. hard and warm.And It smelt so damn good...She tried looking back to see what was holding her but the 'thing' wasn't having it.She looked down to see a very large pair of strong and hairy arms, wrapped around her torso, sending jolts of unexpected pleasure to her nether region.“Let me go, you dumb brute!!” She screamed, squirming in his arms, trying to slip out of his unyielding grip but stopped when she realized his grip was getting tighter.“What is this?! Tell him I do not want him! I reject mphh...” Her words were cut off by one of the men surrounding her.“I'll only release you so long as you promise to listen to 'us'.” The man holding her said.Who were the 'us' he mentioned?They were none other than the three sons of the Alpha. And I... Who was suddenly caught by them, was an Omega.They wanted to talk, huh? Well, so be it. There was only so much an Omega like her could do anyway.“Fine,” she said, relaxing her stance. “But you have to give me some space. Please,”“Not a chance, princess,” he said, his face bearing a smug that made her sigh in annoyance.“Fine,” she said and he relaxed his grip on her, giving her a chance to at least stand to her feet.As soon as she stood firmly on her feet, she looked up at all three of them and the most crazy thing happened.She heard her wolf purr in her mind.'MATE'What?************Bethany Sage.Your average everyday Omega, had never really liked her average, mediocre life. She loved the peace but had always been one to love more..She had been envious of Audrey-The Beta's beloved and only daughter-whom everyone envisions to be the future Luna of Black River Pack.She always dreamt of having a mate with so much power and not because she thought Audrey was a aggravating - She kinda did- and on her 18th birthday, her dream comes true!!But of course, Selene-The Moon Goddess-has never been one to do things the normal way.. including assigning a mate..or mates..

“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.