True Luna - Chapter 57 - FIFTY-SEVEN – Remove the mark?

Join Lu Yin on an epic journey across the Universe, pursuing the truth and tragedy of his past. This is a world of science fantasy where the older generations step back and allow the young to take charge of affairs. Heart-wrenching separations, terrifying situations, all with comic relief that will leave you coming back for more. This is a world where the other characters actually matter, and are revisited frequently as their own lives unfold. Dotting Lu Yin’s path are monumental feats of kingdom-building and treacherous political situations where he must tread carefully if he wants to get to the truth of his history.

Getting lost in a trip made Tang Siyu be mistaken for streetwalker, and she lost her wedding night. After returning home, she found the fiance cheat her with her sister. She cancelled the wedding in anger and declared missing.

Five years later, she came back with her gifted son. Unexpectedly, her baby took part in the piano competition in order to find his father. “My name is Tang Bao, my mother is Tang Siyu who is super beautiful! I am four and a half years old this year. If there is a man who looks like me may be my father. Please contact me! ” Behind the scenes, a woman was mad. A few days later, the mysterious man called himself the father of her child. Tang Siyu looks at this tall and handsome man who looks like her son. She is angry. So, he was the bastard five years ago?

I got cheated on cheh ~ don't worry I have five men who dote on me .

A stoic man who couldn't string two sentences ? I will make him rap watch me .

A hot and cold tsundere who has a venomous tongue for opposite gender ? I will make him pour honey from his mouth .

A stupid and childish man ? see how he flirts like a womanizer with me .

A gentle scholar , cough he ain't gentle with me on bed

A shy introvert ?see him become a wolf in sheep's clothing .

Su Wan - a thirty years old divorced woman who was cheated on by her husband and step sister , spends a night drinking alcohol all the while watching how her ex husband and step sister makes a joke of themselves .

” ahhh !You bastard ! You slag man you think this old lady won't have a man anymore ???Not only this great aunty will have a man ! I will have five men ! One to sleep ! two to roll and three to pamper !! “

Amidst her alcohol intake she passes out only to find her self transmigrated over to a small village in ancient China and that too on her wedding day with The five Lin brothers !

“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.