RED NOTES AND KISSES - Chapter 108: FRIDA -

What do you mean by you only accept female disciples?Zhang Yuan glanced at the Emperor of a powerful Dynasty kneeling in front of him and his son, the prince is also kneeling beside him.“Master Yuan, please accept my son as your disciple. I am sure that under your care, my son will reach the pinnacle of the Heavens.”Pinnacle of the Heavens? Zhang Yuan turned his gaze to the so called Prince. Talentless, weak physique and sh!t cultivation technique.Tch, worthless.Zhang Yuan then turned his eyes to another Dynasty Emperor “Master Yuan, please accept my daughter as your disciple.”Seeing the gorgeous woman kneeling in front of him, Zhao Tian smiled faintly.Talentless? I will make you the most talented mortal entity this world has ever seen.Weak physique? I will give you a physique that will break even the limitations of the heavens and earth.Sh!t cultivation technique? Don't worry, choose the best divine technique you want.Sorry but I only accept female disciples!

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…..?”

“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.

translator: ShayanAuthor: flaming fortressIn a world where living beings are inslaved by godlike evil entities hiding in the shadows, monsters feeding on the flesh and souls of the living, worlds falling one after the other.how can the living survive and fight back?.......This is not a pure cultivation novel. This is a world where MC could die any second. He is just a small figure in the grand scheme of things, trying to survive where all hell has been let loose.