MTL - Live: Husky Tianxiu at the Goddess’ House - Chapter 81 Is this weird? (One more!)

Humiliated and in heat, Idalia was forced to attend the Moonlight Masquerade in hopes of finding a mate to satisfy her body's needs.Vulnerable to her desires, she ran into the woods to escape a potential scandal. But when a masked man catches her, his touch tosses all reasoning aside.What should have been a simple humiliating event for the princess turns into a night of passion.There was one problem though: she couldn't remember who she mated with!The slave who carried her to bed.The knight who knelt before her and offered his canines for touching her.The sworn enemy Alpha Prince, who confessed his love for her.Follow Idalia as she navigates between three Weres. One is a pretty guy eager to please her to escape his fate, another trying to reclaim his honour while unable to control his desires, and the last is a villain using her for his goals, but a flame festers between them at every interaction.A slave, a knight and a villain prince, who will she choose?[ Mature Content ]“You smell like the sun.” His strides are long and confident, heading in my direction like he knows exactly what he wants. He stops before me, and my head tips back. “How is that possible?” His voice drops to a rumbling whisper.Now that he was close to me, the burning ache deep within started to throb and palpitate. His body tensed, and then he was on me, nose against my neck, inhaling deeply, one hand on the side of my hair, pinning me in place with his hips.My head tilts back, unable to stop myself from giving into his touch, exposing my neck more to him, his chest rumbling as he licks the side of my skin, kissing and nipping, placing his scent over me. I am completely and utterly at his mercy.I vaguely hear material ripping, and then his warm hand cups me. “You're not finished yet,” his voice is thick and deep, and it shoots straight to my tingling, pulsing core. His touch is almost possessive, and I nearly beg him to do whatever he wants with me.“Should I make it better?” His whisper is a caress against my ear before he nips the lobe, a bite promising that this would not be tender.- Daily chapter uploads -

As an ordinary newly graduated college student, Lin Zaozao unexpectedly found herself caught up in the trend of transmigration and transformed into a complete fool weighing a whopping 280 pounds.

As if being dimwitted wasn’t bad enough, there was also a large black mole on her face that made her look incredibly ugly.

Though looks did not matter much, what was worse was that through an arranged marriage by the government, she ended up marrying five disabled men.

Her five husbands were a blind man, a lame man, a deaf man, a mute and a paralyzed man.

Along with herself, a dimwit, they formed quite a congregation of disabled people.

Before she even had time to bemoan her misfortune, a gaming system gave her a skill – the ability to transfer anyone’s injury or disability onto herself, before promptly disappearing.

Facing the system’s various unfair treatments, Lin Zaozao could only swallow her grievances.

However, the more she interacted with her five disabled husbands, the more she realized there was more to them than meets the eye…

“Jiang Yu transmigrates into a novel and becomes a side character in the book.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”