MTL - Machine Storm - Chapter 470 Heart sword

The number one famed goddess of the Fairy Realm, reborn in the modern world with the Eye of the Sky God, was by nature destined to bring immense wealth and nobility to others. Yet, the foolish family into which she was born treated her as a three-eyed monster and even sought to have her killed! Thankfully, a kind-hearted farming family adopted her. Since then, she took the relatives from her adoptive family and forged a business empire with them, catapulting them into prominence and blessing them with wealth and glory.The Eye of the Sky God granted her the power to see into the past, gaze into the future, command ghosts and deities, see through all things of the world, stabilize the four corners of the universe, and control the life and death of all beings. She solved supernatural cases, stood up for wronged spirits, punished the wicked, promoted the good, and rose to power by crushing the undeserving......Recommended completed stories from September: Sister works of this novel include “Space Divine Doctor: The Strongest Queen Reborn,” “Military Marriage Blaze: Wife Too Ferocious,” “Discarded Wife's Rebirth into Wealth: The Daughter's Rise,” “Divine Doctor Demoted Consort,” “Astounding Abandoned Empress: Divine Doctor Little Cute Treasure,” and “Explosive Little Medical Consort: The World's Number One Beloved.”

The past life Ji Anran: “Geng Yan, let’s get back together.”

Geng Yan, who was dumped: “I refuse. You have powers anyway, and you can live well without me.”

After rebirth, the weak chicken Ji Anran: “Geng Yan, let’s get back together.”

The dumped Geng Yan: “I refuse.”

Ji Anran, lying dead: “I have no power, you don’t care about me, just let me get cold1.”

Geng Yan: “… …” The unsuccessful Geng Yan can only take away the weak chicken, one cannot put sand on the wall2 Ji Anran.

Later… what about the ordinary person without the strength to truss a chicken?! Who’s the guy in the day?

- Description from Novelupdates

“Do you want to know how this works?” he whispered.“Yes!” I gasped in response to his tug on my hair. “I want to know.”“Yes, what?” he asked, causing my mind to swirl with the realization of what he was into.“Yes, sir. I can be a good girl.”****For Becca, going to Miami brought up old childhood memories with her best friend, Tally. She needed the break after a rough year attending Yale and a break-up with her boyfriend, Chad. She didn’t expect for her summer of fun to include sleeping with James, the Italian Stallion–Tally’s father.Knowing it’s wrong, she allows James to pull her into a vortex of pleasure that has her breaching the surface of reality and grasping for survival. Can Becca endure this pleasure without Tally finding out?Or will her secrets cause her world to crash around her?Submitting to My Best Friend’s Dad is created by Scarlett Rossi, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

“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.