MTL - The White-Haired Imperial Concubine - Chapter 1 Shut out

“They called me a beast,”“They called me a monster,”“They killed my mother and took my sister, yet they called me the animal!”“I will make them pay!”After losing his mother and a young age, Jayden struggled with rage and isolation, getting angry at everybody and everything, while still having the dreams of crushing those who took his mother from himBut his goal was hindered when he discovered that he couldn't possess an ability, he would remain a ordinary human in a world where power was everything.Years after being sent to therapy, he returns only to get struck by lightning. But before he could die, a mysterious interface appeared in his eyes[Requirement has been met][System integrating...][Alert! Non-human genes found in host; modifying system to meet Host's genetic code][Curse has been forcefully activated][Congratulations you have acquired the Beastlord system]“Huh? What the hell is this? And what curse is it talking about?” Jayden thought as he slowly lost consciousnessHe wakes up as a new being entirely, receiving various powers and abilities related to nature and it's creatures, but the most incredible was the absolute control over beasts. Now he could achieve his goals without being stopped and get revenge for his mother. While also leading a war with the ancient beasts against beasts from beyond.....“Mother, i have finally become the animal they say i am,” Jayden chuckled, as he stared at the bright full moon“I have become the lord of beasts,” he stated, as his body began to slowly transform into a large humanoid wolf.

“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.

She leaned down to look inside the well and sighed. Tucking back her hair behind her ear as the evening wind blew.

“I told you not to be a curious cat,“ she scolded looking at the well to receive a small “meow“ from it. Her cat had stepped on the edge of the well no matter how many times she placed it back on the ground and as expected it fell inside it,

“You know what I“m goin...