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... den ‘surprise’. Only when he understood it clearly could he know what the thing was for him.

  If it really helps to improve the law of life, it may be considered a treasure for him, but he is reluctant to ask him to turn the law of major into the law of life.

  Not to mention that he is now very knowledgeable in the laws of time and space. He even has a godhead of the law of time and a godhead of the law of space, which are the treasures of assisting the understanding of the law.< ...

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“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.

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When she woke up, she had already jumped through the dynasty of history. Qiao Wei fell silent, how could she be so unlucky? Sleeping can also cross through history? Even jumping two levels, becoming the mother of the two small buns.

Looking at the small buns sparkling little eyes, Qiao Wei could not say a word of refusal.

Bad! How could she handle such a situation, she wasn’t even a mother, could anything be worse than this?

Raise the buns, get a fortune and become prosperous.

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“You do not care about my children, but want to touch my money, it really hurts me! Do you know it, Aunt?” Qiao Wei looked cold.

Small steamed buns looked back and forth to a cold-looking man: “Mother, Uncle said he is my father.”

Qiao Wei smiled: “Good son, tell your father to prove his identity, what should be done?

Small buns opened a gold booklet, one by one, he said: “Joe’s Family Rules” one hundred and one, insulting an underage girl, will be given palace punishment. “Uncle, if you are really my father … …”

Ranging from a small buns finished, man grabbed Qiao wei’s chin with cold finger, showing a touch of a cold and dangerous smile: “If this Lord remembers right, it seems that night you are being hard on this Lord!”

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