I Love Destroying Worlds' Plot [BL] - Chapter 1161: 17.88 Fourth Violet Star - The Wedding [End]

Aren't you tired of the typical cultivation story, where an isekai'd person comes into the world and becomes a brutal or selfish person? I know I am. So instead of being fully changed by the world, I want this protagonist to stick to their beliefs and help to change the world (and people) for the better. There will still be main character development and tests of those beliefs, but I want them to maintain that aspect.

Brief Synopsis:

American is thrown into a typical Xuanhuan cultivation world where the masses of the people are typically sacrificed for the abilities of the few. This is meant to be an alternate take on how protagonists approach these worlds. Main character comes into the world w/ scanning, healing, and monster taming abilities.

The release schedule will begin on Dec 1st. The schedule is 2 chapters/week (Tue & Fri) at 11pm. Please like, comment, and follow, as that helps me to gauge interest in the series.

Final note: I notice that many cultivation novels treat abuse or sexual assault as a throwaway tool to set a stage. I think the way it is normally done is both lazy and a disrespectful to victims. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve the way I've done it in this series, please let me know.

I want to do this the right way.

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Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

One day, Zhang Chenfei met a car accident. Fortunately, he didn’t suffer any serious physical injuries. However, due to the impact of the car crash, his brain’s perception of the real world had turned into that of the novel that he was reading prior to the accident. The thing that horrified his wife, Jiao Qi, was… the Smart Brain, Louis XIII downloaded a series of books which meant that his husband would turn into a different character each time!

How will our adorable little wife deal with this kind of husband who seemed to suddenly suffer from multiple personalities?

This novel’s plot focuses on Zhang Chenfei’s changing personality based from the characters in the books, and how his wife, Jiao Qi, deal with every character as he will have to act in sync with whoever his husband’s character is. This is per the advise of the private doctor since treatment of this special condition was still under research.

As they act out their roles, they will gradually discover and learn more about the other, which they’ve never known in their seven years of living together.

- Description from Novelupdates

Fu Yuran, a genius actor crowned as a queen upon her debut, basked in endless glory; Yuran, a prodigal, frivolous, and brainless rich third-generation heir.Fu Yuran never thought that upon her sudden death, she would become Yuran, sharing the same name but vastly different in standing, not to mention living at the mercy of others and having an infinitely dazzling movie emperor ... brother?Yuran, who had intended to keep a low profile and strive to better herself, was one day scandalized as the “little demon” cohabitating with the great movie emperor, Yen Shen. Such gossip, truly malicious and insane!Lately, Yuran replied with no expression, “No, I'm not close with Yen Shen, you've misunderstood. How could Yen Shen possibly take a fancy to me?”Just when the dust seemed to be settling, some media personnel surprisingly caught her hand in hand with Yen Shen, and she still spoke earnestly and nonsensically, “We're just acting, don't misunderstand!”Yen Shen, “Let me formally introduce, my wife, Yuran!”

“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.