MTL - God Of Slaughter - Chapter 1592 Evil avatar!

On the night when the savior of the wizarding world should have been born, Harry Potter died under the unforgivable curse.

The man who made almost all British wizards dare not call him by name, regained the wisdom and ambition that belonged to him from the Horcrux.

Darkness has completely enveloped the island of Great Britain.

Wizards are divided into high and low according to their bloodlines. Pure blood firmly holds the authority that belongs to the superior, and people called mudbloods can only be as humble as mud and trampled on throughout their lives.

The Ministry of Magic, which is supposed to enforce justice, is full of villains, and the castle, which is supposed to impart knowledge, is full of oppression.

In these dark times.

Jon Green, who came from across time, was brought into the exiled carriage that truly inherited the title of “Hogwarts”…

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There are already two million-word finished high-quality old books, quality assurance, welcome to enter the pit!

- Description from novelbuddy

Li Qiao, a soft and glutinous girl, dresses up as the little daughter-in-law of a poor family.

Rural household registration, two dilapidated houses.

What she didn’t know was that her husband, who was not stingy at home, would become a business tycoon in the future, possessing supreme status and untold wealth.

What’s more, she didn’t know that the reborn step-sister was determined to take her place as the rich wife.

The step-sister is often persuaded to leave: brother-in-law drinks and fights, and is not good enough for you.

Li Qiao is irritable every day: He said he deserves me to death.

The step-sister added: He is too poor, you and your children suffer hardships with him.

Li Qiao blushed: He said that it is difficult to divide a child unless there is another one.

stepsister: …

- Description from novelbuddy

(One of the best stories you can find in this platform!)

Yeman Talisman was bullied by his classmates and framed by his best friend in his high school days. One night, an incident occurred, which he rescued his ex-girlfriend from a drug organization syndicate. Too bad with his bad luck he got killed, when he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a different world? With a gaming-like system! Let’s find out what will happen to him in this world of fantasy. What if he finds out that his old classmates were the heroes of this new world and their leader was none other than his old best friend who framed him not only once, but twice?

They got summoned here through a magic circle unlike him!

What will happen when the system and magic clash?!!!

(Yeman made a promise to himself, that the next time their path cross, he will teach them true despair.)

Together with his pets, he will build his clan and rise to power!

“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.