Stray Cat Strut - Chapter Sixty-Five - Your Average Roleplaying Group

Tianshu Fengshen list, Di Shu Shan Hai Jing, human book life and death book!
Above nine days, it is for the fairy palace!

- Description from ptwxz (translated)

Nan Qiao became a fake heiress, despised by her adoptive parents, and was sent back to her biological parents.Overnight, Nan Qiao transformed from a ridiculed fake heiress of a wealthy family to the true heiress of the richest family.Her parents adore her, and her brother pampers her, leading a life everyone envies.Does Qiao Qiao want to study? She can choose any prestigious school!Is Qiao Qiao bored? She can play with any company!Does Qiao Qiao want to drive? She can pick any luxury car!Does Qiao Qiao want to shop? She can swipe the black card at will!Does Qiao Qiao have an engagement? That's not allowed!Rumor has it that the powerful CEO Li Yihan is violent and moody.How can darling Qiao Qiao be with such a beast of a man? The engagement must be canceled.Li Yihan: Who said that? Arrest anyone who tries to sabotage the marriage.People: Mr. Li, didn't we agree that you're not violent?Some said Nan Qiao is not worthy of being the richest heiress, just a pretty face.Later, the designer is her, the medical genius is her, the investment prodigy is her, and the Li Madam is even more her.Wait a minute, she doesn't want this title!Li Yihan: This title is a must!The fiancé who came to cancel the engagement regretted it and clung to her every day.Qiao Qiao is bullied? Li Yihan captures the person, beats them until they kneel, and apologize to her.Qiao Qiao wants to work? Li Yihan gives her ten companies to choose from.Qiao Qiao has no jewelry? Li Yihan buys a room full of jewelry for her.Qiao Qiao has no high fashion? Li Yihan delivers all the world's high fashion to her doorstep.Qiao Qiao is mocked for canceling the engagement? Li Yihan steps forward: I was the one who was dumped, you all shouldn't spread rumors!

“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.