MTL - I Heard You Are an Alien - Chapter 142 Bedroom

wake up.

Luo Qingzhou became a little bastard of the Luo family in the Chengguo Mansion of the Great Yan Empire.

In order to help the second son of the Luo family regret his marriage, Luo Qingzhou was forced to marry into a married woman and married a foolish bride who was said to be unable to speak or laugh.

It wasn’t until after worshiping heaven and earth and after the wedding night in the bridal chamber that he suddenly realized:

“My wife, something is wrong!”

Not only is there something wrong with the lady, even the two little maids beside the lady and the rest of the Qin family are all wrong!

The big maid is sweet, charming and seductive, with a voice like a lark;

The little maid was as cold as ice and snow with a murderous aura, her throat was sealed as soon as she drew her sword.

My sister-in-law is talented, and she is as delicate and beautiful as Lin Daiyu.

The little cousin is arrogant and domineering, and the whip is fatal.

The father-in-law has a serious face, but secretly speaks dirty words.

The mother-in-law is as beautiful as a flower, and she loves to roll her eyes at the top of her head.

The second elder brother devoted himself to practicing martial arts and said that he wanted to honor his ancestors.

As for Luo Qingzhou, he just wanted to be a son-in-law honestly, and then sneak around and be invincible…

- Description from novelbuddy

Three hundred years since the founding of the Great Jin Dynasty, the fortune of the country has been prosperous. In the imperial court, there are great Confucianists who make their promises.

Zuo Daoqi traveled to this world and became a little eunuch who was about to be thrown into the cold palace.

The court was treacherous, and the rivers and rivers were vicious. He just wanted to live on honestly.

But accidentally opened the script of life, can see through other people’s future scripts, and can get rewards after completing tasks.

The first thing that caught my eye was a little loli who was about to become an empress…

From then on, Zuo Daoqi planned to stay in the cold palace, study the game script well, and train the future empress by the way.

In my spare time, I’ll talk to the queen mother, imperial concubine, princess and so on.

His original purpose was to protect himself, so that he could leave the palace as soon as possible and become a rich man.

…

Until one day, a little eunuch came to Zuo Daoqi’s side,

“Nine thousand years old, the empress dowager said it’s time to serve her tonight.”

- Description from novelbuddy

[Warning: MATURE/R-18 Content]Noah Ashford, the son of the village chief.And also, he was a reincarnator, who accidentally died by an unexpected event.Since childhood, he was always considered smart by his friends.Unfortunately, his talent was too low, leaving him far behind.Due to his low talent, he was always the object of ridicule, always talked about by the villagers.Luckily, one day when he was almost killed by a monster, something strange happened to him.He got a system, called talent increased.***Others tags:Adventure, Weak to Strong, Strong to Stronger, Killed, Level Up, Revenge, Hated Protagonist, Academy, Netori, No incest, Princess, Priest, Hero, Knight, Dragons, Demons, Magic Mana, Divinity, Skills, Rewards, Potions, Training, Hard Training, Body Enchament, Spirits, Elves, Dwarfs, Necromancer, Beast Taiming, Beats, Dryads, World Tree, Contract Spirits, Divinity, Holy Magic, Saints, Commander, Milf, Kings, Continent, Imperials, Nobles, Kingdoms, Tournament, Rivals, Emperors, Prince, Princess, Resistance, Conflict, War, Power Level System, Longevity, Cold ProtagonistSlice of Life: WPC JUNE 2024

“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.