MTL - Awakening - Chapter 296 activity

Zara Hansley had always believed herself forsaken by the gods due to the terminal illness she was diagnosed with. Every doctor she visited had declared she would not live past her 23rd birthday.Yet, when left with only a few months to live, Zara found out that the root of her illness was a curse, one which she could break. Just like that, she was given a new chance at life—she had to scour the earth for the cure in just a few short months or succumb to her fate.Fate, however, was a funny thing—it brought her to a stranger that would alter the course of her life forever, and his life by her.Born to an ancient family, Amir Frostcrown was cursed to bring misfortune to any female around him. Not only that, he was able to hear the thoughts of others, thus further drawing a line between him and other ordinary folk. As such, while these abilities amassed him an enormous wealth over the years, he was destined to live a loveless life of solitude.That all changed when his and Zara’s paths crossed. As someone that was completely unaffected by his curses and abilities, Amir Frostcrown was immediately intrigued by this dying girl.One dream, one vow, and two curses. That was all it took for Zara to tumble from the world of reality into fantasy. Would she be able to find her cure in time? When secrets are revealed, would Zara and Amir Frostcrown stand the test of time?***“We were fated to be from the beginning!” he amusedly declared as he looked at her dotingly, eyes sparkling and only her image visible in his blue eyes.“I don’t believe in fate!” Zara mumbled softly as she looked to the ground, afraid of facing him and the undeniable truth he spoke of.“But don’t you see?” Amir asked. “Isn’t fate what led us to this very moment?”

A military enthusiast with dreams of serving, shaped by his father’s influence and a bookshelf full of war theories, finds himself unexpectedly reborn into a fantasy world he’d recently read about.Now an orphan, he faces impending destitution in a land governed by strict caste systems. But with the Reich Empire Academy Entrance Exam as his potential salvation, he’s armed not with magic, but with a vast knowledge of military tactics from his past life. As the date of his expulsion from the orphanage looms, he’s determined to leverage his unique skills to change his fate.

Free Life Fantasy Online… a.k.a. FLFO.

Tsukishiro Kotone receives this game as gift from her little sister and starts playing.

The character’s race she has selected was… one of “Inhuman” races for enthusiasts.

A race said to be bad even among Inhuman races that are known to be difficult – a Zombie.

“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.