Read Dorothy's Forbidden Grimoire - Chapter 336 : Contact

Read now -> Dorothy's Forbidden Grimoire - Chapter 336 : Contact

Previous chapter: Chapter 335 : Thief

Next chapter: Chapter 337 : Candidate

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... s just stopped.

On a street in the East District, the road remains damp from the rain. A few pedestrians passing by still hold closed umbrellas in their hands. The cold, wet streets are sparsely populated with carriages, and the chilly wind has discouraged many citizens from venturing out. The once bustling streets are now unusually quiet.

Inside a high-end restaurant on the street, seated by a window with a view of the outside, Marx, a man in his fifties with a long beard and dr ...

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Princess Medical Doctor

254k

2.0/5(votes)

RomanceSlice Of LifeJoseiDrama

She is the Crown Prince’s fiancee, but on the night of their wedding, an edict was made and she was given off to marry the crippled and paralyzed God of War.

~ Tinder age

MTL - Black Ride

82.9k

2.8/5(votes)

ActionSci-fiTragedy

The dawn era after the end of the half century has gradually rebuilt the order, abandoned civilization, and is full of undivided violence and desire.
The noble and powerful pioneers are in charge of the city, and the evil and mad plagues are in the wilderness.
Pure human beings who cannot mutate are the weakest, dominated by the rulers of the pioneers, and are not as good as animals in the wilderness.
A purely humanized young man with a worldly experience has quietly entered the WTO, holding a three-foot long knife and a long-distance desire to boil in the world of purgatory. From the nameless name to the sorrow of the Supreme Court, the name of the black ride is resounding!

- Description from Uukanshu (translated)

Chapter 34 - Ytrisia’s Suspicion

My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines

469

4.5/5(votes)

FantasyActionAdultHarem

“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.