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... anora may or may not have been following original, they weren't really paying attention. Whatever the case she wasn't around right now. It was just Kat, and Lily floating in the pool. Well, Kat had Lily resting on her stomach so technically Lily wasn't 'in' the pool but that was just semantics.

[How are you floating?]

*What?* Kat and Lily had been relaxing for a bit and it was nice. Just the two of them, nobody else. The slight sounds of the waterfall like enchantment at one end ...

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“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.

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Kaidan (Kaidan refers to eerie tales of strange, mysterious, rare, or bewitching ghosts and monsters from Japanese folklore.) feed on cognition, wield information as weapons, and use information as currency, existing between the peculiarities of neither life nor death.They exist in human rumors and dwell in the shadows of the world.“Does this mean I will become a Kaidan?”In ancient times, they were worshipped as deities, empowered by faith.“Then I am a deity!”In more recent ancient times, they were regarded as demons and fed on fear.“I will become the master of Kaidan!”However, as the tides of time washed over, they gradually vanished, leaving behind only texts considered to be delusions.“To restore the glory of Kaidan is an undeniable duty of ours.”But you are not yet a Kaidan, hmm, nor a person.“Well, becoming a Kaidan counts as success.”

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After transmigrating from the apocalypse to ancient times, Gu Yundong barely had time to catch her breath when she realized she was in the midst of a journey to escape famine.

To make matters worse, her entire family had been expelled from the group fleeing the famine by her grandparents while others watched on coldly. With her father missing, her mother feeble-minded, and her starved younger sibling, Gu Yundong, who had barely caught her breath, only felt a major headache oncoming.

With no other choice, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work. She engaged in business, opened a shop, and acquired fertile land. Gu Yundong thrived in her daily life.

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