The Divine Doctor and Stay-at-home Dad - Chapter 924 - Princess Xingyue

How pitiful is a life without love?

In every happy ending, there is always a male character who either meets his demise or lives the rest of his life alone.

Maybe these male characters regard feelings as playthings, or maybe they just don’t care. But what if they each meet someone who is willing to love them and spend the rest of their life with them?

These are the love stories of said male characters and their counterparts.

General x Empress-to-be √

CEO x Actress √

Playboy x Playgirl √

Reborn ML x Transmigrator √

Demon Lord x Holy Maiden √

Yandere x Vampire √

And more √

NOTE:

Although the author labeled this as a quick transmigration novel, it is far from one. Each arc can be read as a short standalone story.

- Description from Novelupdates

There are 7 dimensions controlled by a Universal Government. Each dimension is governed by its own unique universal laws. There are a few things they have in common, there is always 1 the strongest and 1 the smartest. Except for the Universal Government, it’s forbidden to travel between dimensions. Interdimensional gates don’t close on their own and if left open, creatures that dwell in the darkness between the worlds will find their way through. Without warning, one of the dimensions disappeared without a trace. The remaining 6 in panic did all they could to find the reason why. They never found an answer. 12 years after the dimension vanished, a signal started appearing in the empty universe. Perhaps the answer is in that signal.Tsugi No Level

One will to create oceans. One will to summon the mulberry fields.

One will to slaughter countless devils. One will to eradicate innumerable immortals.

Only my will… is eternal.

“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.