MTL - How Can the Saintess Be a Boy!? - Chapter 9 This is my house ... don't mess around (seven) [Part2 / 2]

In her previous life, Wen Ning was imprisoned beside Pei You and became his caged bird, bird in his palm,

Every day is not planning to escape or is on the way to escape,

In the end, he broke off his wings and died in depression.

After living a new life, Wen Ning decided to hide her identity and her temperament.

Acrimonious, short-sighted, stupid and ignorant…

The key is to love him so much.

All in all, he could do as much as he hated her.

Sure enough, Pei You in this life hated her so much that she shunned her.

Seeing her makes me want to wash my eyes.

Wen Ning is physically and mentally at ease, and can finally choose a husband with peace of mind.

On the day when the news of Wen Ning’s engagement spread throughout the city, she ran into Pei You unexpectedly.

Wen Ning decided to stand on the last post and perform the last play, hugging Pei You’s thigh and crying:

“Wow, my lord, my little girl doesn’t want to marry. Oh, my lord, the sky can learn from the sky and the moon and the sun and the moon can show my sincerity, my lord, my lord, if I don’t change my infatuation in this life, I will not marry you!”

In Wen Ning’s script, at this moment, Pei You should be ruthless and leave without giving her a single look.

But he didn’t want him to stand still, and when she was about to stop acting, he bent down slowly, and wiped away the tears in the corners of her eyes with his warm fingertips. From his eyes to his voice, there was a change from the cold charm of the past: “If that’s the case, how about marrying me?”

Wen Ning: “…………………???”

- Description from novelbuddy

When an alien ambassador crash-lands in Tim's backyard and demands, 'Take me to your leader,' the 12-year-old does what any kid would do: he points to himself and says, 'That’s me. I’m the King of Earth.'Now, thanks to a hastily signed treaty (and a promise to hand over Jupiter), Tim’s got an armory of world-ending alien tech, an invulnerable Planetary Base in his backyard treehouse, and one tiny problem: nobody told him ruling a planet would be this hard. Between conquering Earth, fending off hostile fleets, outsmarting intergalactic bureaucrats, and explaining his absences to his Trekkie dad, Tim’s in way over his head. But if he can’t bluff his way through alien diplomacy fast, humanity might end up as collateral damage.“King of All I Survey” is a fun, heart-pounding sci-fi adventure where one kid’s lie decides the fate of Earth—and homework is nothing compared to intergalactic war.

The Fifth Young Master of the Yan Family has immense power and unmatched beauty, but his personality is unpredictable and his methods ruthless, making everyone afraid of him.Until he took in a young girl of unknown origin.The young girl, soft and clingy, was not only unafraid of him but followed him around all day, pitifully saying she wanted to repay him.In the end, he cherished her as a treasure, spoiling her to the core, wishing he could give her everything, only to find out she had no idea what liking someone meant.He angrily cornered her against the wall, his voice low and dangerous: “Little Gua, if you keep making trouble, don't blame me for being rude.”[1V1 Sweetheart, super indulgent!]

“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.