Beauty and the Bodyguard - Chapter 10851 - 10840: The Battle of the Three Kingdoms!

Kent is an ordinary wizard in the Sky family wizard school, and his wife Thea also works as an elder in the same school. As Thea is moving out to the elder barracks, she kicks Kent out of the house and puts the house for sale.“You are just a piece of waste who couldn’t earn a silver.” Thea’s last words still lingering in Kent’s soul. (It’s not like Kent is a lazy guy who escapes studies. Most of Kent’s meridians were locked down by a curse.)Suddenly on the same day, Kent received a Raven from his maternal aunt. “Are you really my aunt?” Kent questioned with a doubtful gaze. “Yes, Kent… I have sent 5000 gold and Heavenly elixir to remove your meridian curse. Don’t mind asking me for more money. Your mom left a huge fortune for you.”From that moment Kent’s life changed as he brought a new flying pet equal to core disciples, new weapons, Villas, Fancy meals, and whatnot. Soon, his powers sore and he became a Supreme Arch Magus.

Gojo Satoru always knew he could travel back in time whenever his life was in danger. After surviving betrayal, the battle at the Prison Realm, and his fight with Sukuna, he realized he needed a fresh start. When he opened his eyes, he was sixteen again—his first day at Jujutsu High. Nothing had happened yet. This was his chance to change everything.But something was wrong. Geto Suguru was missing.Gojo searched all of Tokyo but found no trace of him. Then, a year later, during a mission near Shinjuku Station, he spotted a familiar face—a boy with a bun and strange bangs.Gojo’s heart raced.Geto Suguru: “Who are you?”

“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.

Nicole d'Armand never expected to walk into her apartment and find her fiancé *bleep*-deep in another woman's lady bits. What's a girl to do?Well, after obliterating an 18th-century Meissen vase, delivering a punch that would make a heavyweight boxer proud, and embarking on a night of raucous drinking, Nicole figures she might as well embrace the chaos.But when alcohol and pheromones collide, her wild night spins into something unexpected... Like a ride on the Logan Everett express.Which, naturally, leads to a whirlwind of its own: She's his fated mate. Because of course she is.And he rejects her. Because of course he does.Now embroiled in a mystery bigger than her post-breakup hangover, Nicole finds herself the prime suspect in a murder she didn't commit—no matter how tempting the thought might have been. And the only person who believes her innocence? The same guy who shot down the idea of being her fated mate.Great. Just what she needed: her love life is a crime scene, and the man stupid enough to let her go is holding her freedom in his hands.