MTL - Assassin Reborn - Chapter 100 Chasing the moon 1

Void plane: synonymous with terror and taboo, no one knows how big the void is, because it is growing every moment, and anyone who talks about the void will be shocked.

Void Lords: The voices of the Void plane, the plane’s invaders, conquerors and destroyers; they lead the Void’s armies all the way to war, and when they discover a new plane, they will do everything possible to pull it into the Void embraced by the Void’s reward.

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- Description from novelbuddy

Irene Pareira is a boy who sleeps to run away from reality.

Hope Lauren has read her share of comics. She’s seen supers around her city and even been saved by some on occasion. And she always hoped that she’d be able to join them. With Jack, her grizzled older mentor with secrets that could shake the world, and Pantheon, a new team of heroes, Hope will have to fight against monumental odds to save Oleander City. In a world of action, comedy, tragedy, and adventure, there’s plenty for a new hero to do.*Readers can expect a mostly adventure-themed superhero journey that will include a slice of life, action, and hopefully exciting world-building. It will also contain a slow-burn GL/Yuri plotline, which I'll eventually get to when I feel like it, I guess. This will be a very long story with many arcs*

“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.