Star Odyssey - Chapter 10: Cosmic Palm

Wu Qun lost his memory, and every time he woke up, there was a baby next to him. There is nothing wrong with multiple babies, but all kinds of white lotus, green tea and white moonlight also come to join in the fun, which makes him very uncomfortable.
He always couldn’t help but want to twist them, step on them, soak them in a bubble, and then make some benefits for the cubs by the way. Then I accidentally earned a peace and happiness for the cubs!

Content tags: Travel through time and space, fast through, through the book, counterattack
Search keywords: Protagonist: Wu Qun ┃ Supporting role: Open on November 1st, “Quick-Crossing Male Supporting No Spare Tire” has no CP, please accept ┃ Others: Pre-receive “Quick-Crossing: Unarmed CP” without CP, please pre-receive

One-sentence introduction: Cannon fodder, his father and his cub

Concept: Children need love and patience to water

- Description from novelbuddy

And so Arascus, God of Pride, waited. He waited for his defeat as the forces of Heaven & Hell combined descended upon him. He waited as they tried to kill him. He waited as they locked him away. He waited for a thousand years in that dark prison.

The middle boss of the AAA-class game produced by the company. The villain who dies 999 times out of 1,000 times. Deculein.That person, was me now.“You’re going to die on almost every route.”Deculein, like all villains, inevitably dies.[First and foremost survival goal: Be what the game requires you to be]I’ll have to survive even if it means twisting my fate if I am destined to die.

“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.