Please Stop The Pope - Chapter 10

When I opened my eyes I had become a princess!

But out of all characters in this romance novel, why is it the princess who has the fate of dying to her own blood-related dad, the emperor!

If I want to live, I must not be seen by that emperor dad.

“When did this kind of scumbag start living in my castle?”

The man who doesn’t have single drop of blood nor tear to drop, that cold emperor Claude! Will Atanasia who had been caught by the emperor be able to survive?

“I… What do I do…..?”

In this world, human are in peril. 72 Obelisks suddenly appeared out of nowhere, infecting the world with Monsters. Amongst this chaos, people look for hope.

A man named Basil Pacifer is the humanity's hope. He is the strongest Mage alive at that point. Sadly, he believes in no man, and he always moves alone.

...

Basil observes the unfolding scene bitterly. He is aware of his impending doom, however he has no grudge. He has lived long enough to achieve things people can only dream about.

Looking back to his past, he realized his life is nothing more than a sad story.

Closing his eyes, he accepted his end — or so he thought.

...

”Look at me! What do you see?“

”Regrets.“

”Don't you want to undo it?“

”Tell me what the offer is.“

Thus, Basil Pacifer returned to the past, being his younger self once again. Of course, he returned back with something.

...

[Ding!]

[Guide to Omniscience is successfully merged with The Chosen One]

[Analyzing The Chosen One's mental capability...]

[Analyzation Complete!]

[Result: The Chosen One is retarded]

[Initiate Brain Configuration!]

No matter how useless the golden finger he received seems, he will reach a higher height than his last life. This time, he will completely erase any regrets he has!

“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.

Just something I made to keep track of some of my favourite essences & powers from fics. {with personal twists}