In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 600: Who Can Do Destruction In Schiller Manor? (2)

Ace had always harbored feelings for his childhood friend, only to have his heart shattered when he learned she was secretly in love with Duke. The betrayal left him disheartened, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next.That night, instead of waking up to another ordinary day, he opened his eyes in a completely different world—inside another man's body. Worse still, the first thing he heard upon waking was yet another rejection.Thrown into an unfamiliar land with a past he doesn't remember and a future he never planned for, Ace faces a choice: chase after love once more or embrace a new passion—one that comes in the form of an unexpected farming system. As he cultivates spirit crops and reaps rewards beyond imagination, he begins to wonder: perhaps love isn't found in a person, but in the soil, the growth, and the endless possibilities of the land.Will Ace sow the seeds of a new destiny, or will the echoes of rejection root him in the past?

After his tragic life ended, Aleron expected to reincarnate or transmigrate, but instead, he was transported with his body and summoned as a hero...only to enter a new hell as he had trash stats and couldn't activate his Divine Blessing, prompting the King to extract his boon.He was tortured and onward to being buried alive with his soul ravaged after they removed his Divine Blessing. But all was not lost as Aleron found he had the Ultimate Gacha System at the death's door and initiated his first summon in the Lords of Arcane banner.[Congratulations! You have summoned Darzax the Graveborn, the Sorcerer of Death and Necromancy.]

So, apparently I'm Albedo now...And to make things worse, I'm in the DC universe, which one exactly, I've got no fucking clue.Fuck man! Why do I have to be in the body of a inverted person! Do you know how attention drawing white hair and red eyes look like in the real world?! It's been like what, the 4th person who asked me if they were natural?!...I gotta dye this shit black, like my original hair was...(Author note: This fanfic is an AU of my other fanfic, where instead of Samael being in Marvel he is in DC/Young Justice.The world is a mix of the animated series and the comics - to give myself both a blueprint to work with and enough leeway, since I plan to make the characters have more of their comic capabilities.Also, It also has a chat group element, currently having Aizen, Light, and Azula in it as well as Samael.I hope you all enjoy it, see ya!)

“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.