Villainess is being pampered by her beast husbands - Chapter 70 --

“The Fortune Dice has found its host. Initiating change in world setting”Wang Hao obtains a weird dice by accident and transmigrates to a parallel world where everything in the entertainment industry is completely different.There are six fortune attributes on the dice, Extremely Unlucky, Unlucky, Normal, Lucky, Extremely Lucky and Divine Luck, each lasting up to 24 hours.“Rattle —” Wang Hao closes his eyes and throws the dice on the table. When it finally stops spinning, he takes a closer look and immediately lets out a gasp!Staring at the top side of the Fortune Dice, Wang Hao has no idea what the future holds for him...

Meloni is just a musician. A normal, charming girl whom everyone loves and admires. But she has a secret; she can manipulate sound.For years, she managed to live with that secret, until everything came crashing down when her resonance was picked up by local organizations.In the midst of all the chaos, whether she should live as an awakened conduit or just a normal person, she ends up rescuing a small black bird.But that bird, is someone the whole world is afraid of.

In a world where cruelty reigns and only the ruthless survive, Arthur—a boy born in the gutters of a city ruled by monsters—knows only one truth: power decides fate. Shackled by the past, driven by vengeance, and desperate to carve his own path, he plunges into a brutal struggle for dominance. But as blood stains his hands and the lines between man and beast blur, Arthur stumbles upon something far more dangerous than war—fragments of a life he was never meant to have. A name. A home. A reason to fight beyond survival.But is survival enough, or will he become the very thing he swore to destroy?

“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.