MTL - Rules Strange Story: My Family is Not Normal - Chapter 33 white beard and black beard

***Completed*** Lady Jessamyn brought home a ten-year-old orphan when she was eight. He was handsome ^_~. She provided him with a place to stay and warm meals. As they grew up, she desired to marry him, despite their differing statuses. As war raged, he signed up for the military, promising to ask for her hand when he was worthy.Two years later, he became more than what he promised he would be. He became the Archduke of Ayberia. But he broke her heart by marrying her friend.Years rolled away; life happened. She married a man who loved her and fell madly in love with him. She didn't think of him again. But fate was cruel; she was widowed at the age of twenty-one. She lost everything.Seven years later, she met a mysterious wolf while she was out at work in the Archduke's fief. She had a fall. The next morning, she found herself on the Archduke's bed.Did fate bring them together again? Or something nefarious is at play? Is this a chance for a second love?Will she find out why he abandoned her in the past?Is it possible to rekindle their old love, or is it too late?-----Join me in this journey. Your comments and votes are appreciated. Gift me to motivate me.Updates will be daily.

The call of the nightmare realm cannot be denied, the woven fate is inevitable.

His ability to travel to the nightmare realm granted him immortality but also pit him with an unfamiliar world, curses and magics unseen before in the real world.

Monsters of unknown origin, macabre beasts and horrors beyond the ken of man have taken the place of old inhabitants of a once glorious civilization.

Now under the light of the Clairvoyant Moon the nightmare realm is on the verge of destruction. Here you will find dishonorable knights, mad sorcerers, twisted alchemist, the malformed Lost Ones and the vestiges of old gods all converging in a dead world.

But there are also those who seek to undo the curse, to restore the world. There are scavengers that only want to survive, the seekers of truth that seek the secrets of old.

And then there’s Aldrich who plans to exploit the resources and powers of the nightmare realm to achieve his own goals.

The epic tale of struggle against impossible odds and enemies bigger than life.

What Aldrich will find outside his little village will not just test the limits of his will, but also his sanity.

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Aldrich, is a fifteen year old boy, living in a small village called Wakefield, he dreams of being a Crestmaster.

On the day Aldrich awakens his Crest, Wakefield is attacked and burned.

He is the only survivor, barely making it out with a mysterious gift, a heavy mission and dire warnings to never turn back.

He is then told to forget about what he saw and the innocent villagers that died, to never ask questions. All things Aldrich could never do.

One day he will uncover the forces behind the massacre and take his revenge. But for now he will lower his head and pretend that nothing has happened.

For now.

Reborn into a world shaped by ashen storms, brutal blizzards, and sword-wielding sorcerers, Arilyn must forge his own path.Magic is abundant, spread far and wide by the realm-spanning Grand Spell. Even in the frail body of a newborn, Arilyn is rewarded with attributes, points, and power simply for stubborn hard work. Yet not everything is as bright as it seems. Legends walk the land, and the Blight Lords are hell-bent on resurrecting the Old God.None of this should have mattered to him, living on the fringe of the empire—until strange rumblings rise from the heart of the Candor Mountains.What to Expect: • [Reincarnation, but the MC does not retain any memory of his past in the beginning.]• [Slice of Life, Crafting, Spellcrafting, Training, Slow burn, Weak to Strong, and silly things] • [LitRPG elements, Detailed Magic system, Greek/Roman Empire-esque settings]• [Magic Academy, Eventually]• [Beast Companion?] • [No harem]

“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.