Tang Dynasty：Live with princess Changele, Li Er is going crazy - Chapter 33 - The Price Comparison between Datang and Blue Star!

Mo Tianliao was a master weaponsmith and a demonic cultivator. When news spread that he was about to complete a divine weapon, cultivators from both the demonic and orthodox sides chased him down and killed him. In a stroke of luck, he managed to possess a new body and was reborn.

So what was the first thing on his mind after his rebirth? Avenging his death? Taking over the world?

Mo Tianliao: I have to find my cat!

—
Mo Tianliao: Why won’t you let me hug you? You used to be my cat!

Master: (unsheathes claws)

Mo Tianliao: Ahaha, this disciple has too much respect for Master, this disciple can’t bear to let Master walk on the ground!

Master: (lifts paw, sends disciple flying)

- Description from Novelupdates

A sound, deep and unearthly, cracked across the sky — like the world itself had been struck with a sledgehammer. The stars flickered, then vanished behind creeping waves of ash and violet light. A fracture spread across the heavens, jagged and violent.And from that wound in the sky... they fell.Shapes. Twisted. Wrong. Crawling, jerking — no longer human.But inside a secluded estate tucked behind electronic gates and manicured hedges, the world still slept.Ryan stirred beneath the sheets, tangled in warmth. Jane Blackwood lay beside him, her breath calm and even. For a fleeting moment, the illusion held.Then—Bang! Bang! Bang!“Ryan!” Maggi’s voice, sharp with panic. A second slam, louder. “Open the door! Now!”Ryan groaned, still half-dreaming. “What the hell’s going on…”He slid out of bed, eyes heavy, limbs slow. When he opened the door, Eleanor nearly collapsed into him. Her hands were streaked with blood, her eyes wild.“They’re here,” she whispered. “The sky cracked open. Something came through. People are changing. Dying. Tearing each other apart—Ryan, this isn’t a dream. This is real. It’s happening.”He turned, pulse hammering. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”Outside, the world had ended.And the dead had begun to rise.He reached for his clothes, yanking on a shirt. But just as he stepped toward the hallway. The ceiling of the household collapses on their bodies and they died instantly but the pendant given to him by his mother started flickering and next second, In the world unlike Earth, Ryan instantly opens eyes with a gasp and when he sees himself in the mirror. He got reincarnated in another world.Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Thank you !.

In one timeline, Shen Yu joked to his frends that he would send his new disciple to Soaring Heaven's Isle, an all-female sect.In another, this wasn't a joke.All Jin Rou knows is that this supposed man's dream isn't all its cracked up to be, espcially after two errant Soaring Heaven's Isle diciples accidentally blow him, and the floating island he was living on, up.Wherever he goes... this poor guy can't seem to catch a break. Or lose the chicken.The maybe harem, maybe romance, defintiely comedy timeline of Beware of Chicken, starring Rou, his cock, and his two idiots, Bailu and Seiyu.

“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.