Transmigrated Into The True Heiress - Chapter 16: Dear Lord

Raphael loves women in relationships.It's always been a problem of his. He just can't help it.And now that he's been accepted into the Magical Five Schools, a place filled with some of the most beautiful women he has ever seen, he's able to live out his fantasy to even greater lengths.But his addiction puts him in difficult situations. Some so serious that even his life is put at risk.How will he navigate this new environment, whilst living his life to his most lustful desires?With the help of his unique powers and being granted the S-Rank, Raphael Brooks' will surely live an adventurous life in the Nation of Vailstone.

Holo’s life was once a series of relentless hardships—bullies at school, abusive parents, and heartbreak at the hands of those he trusted. After a failed suicide attempt, a mysterious man offers him a deal: help rehabilitate four psychopathic girls, and in return, earn ten million dollars. Desperate and naive, Holo accepts, not realizing the chaos and danger awaiting him.Each girl comes with her own dark tendencies—Trixie, a violent and feral girl who acts on impulse; Scarlet, a master manipulator who delights in breaking people down; Felicia, a dangerously seductive woman battling a sex addiction; and Eleanor, a cold, calculating girl with a desire to watch the world burn. As Holo works to bring out their humanity, the girls become obsessively devoted to him, their love transforming into something darker.

[Farming]+[Space]+[Heartwarming]+[Prosperity]+[Defeating Scum]Mo Yan, reduced to ashes by an explosion, was reborn in ancient times,becoming a little farm girl on the run from famine!Above her, a kind and handsome Scholar father - not bad!Below her, a lively and adorable pair of younger siblings - very good!But really, she felt like dying all over again, you know?On the run, going without food, drink, or shelter was one thing,but to always guard against bad guys who might capture her to fill their bellies was another!Luckily, her upgradable Space from the previous life followed her,but what the heck -that amazing Space with mountains, water, and meat to eat had been formatted!Faced with a desperate situation, Mo Yan reignited her fighting spirit:So what if it's formatted, I'll still make a fortune and build my wealth right at the foot of the Imperial City!Carving out mountains, planting orchards, buying shops, building houses... not one less!But... there are so many green-eyed troublemakers!Your farm is yours? Here, I'll trap you to death without discussion!Want to be my stepmom? Fine, I'll send you a bunch of widowers!Mother looking for you? Here, take the divorce papers, keep them, don't thank me!...What? A handsome man is proposing? Uh, this... should I throw myself at him?

“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.