MTL - World of Warcraft: Foreign Realm Domination - Chapter 551 Strange end

[Warning: Mature Content and a ruthless, villainous, badass mc!]Kael Draven was once the feared leader of an underground mafia empire. A shadow ruler who pulled the strings behind the scenes.But power comes at a price. Kael learned that the hard way when a bullet pierced his ear, and his trusted ally betrayed him, bringing his life to an end.Bang!As his empire crumbled and his body hit the cold floor, all he could think was, ‘What a pathetic way to go.’Instead of hell, Kael woke up in a far more dangerous world, with a body stronger than ever—youthful, shredded, with muscles for days and an ego that could crush mountains.His title? Master of the Crimson Maw.He now led a bandit group that had angered a mysterious force and been wiped out—except for one survivor: a strong, silent gladiatrix who wanted nothing to do with him.To make things even more interesting, his body bore a glowing tattoo that whispered in his mind: “Bond. Through body. Through soul.”But Kael wasn’t one to back down. He didn’t like losing.So what if his base was a dilapidated shack? So what if his army was just one extremely voluptuous warrior?Kael wasn’t here to play small. He was going to turn this ragtag bandit group into a force feared by all, with a harem of deadly beauties who would bow to no one but him!Welcome to the Crimson Maw. Where the training is brutal, the beauties are overpowered, and the only thing more dangerous than an enemy is the bandit king himself.Let the grind begin!

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!)

Lin Xiao was an orphan who strived to get stronger while living with his sickly younger brother in an unnamed small village.

“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.