Arpious of the Planes - Chapter 15 Elves

The female protagonist transmigrated into a wretched, lazy, and gluttonous villainess in a farming family!Her notorious reputation, fostered by her overly pampering mother, alienated the entire family. See how Jinhua cleanses her name, becoming diligent, brave, and the applauded golden girl everyone praises.With a wretched mother, a sick father, a stepsister, four brothers, and a bunch of nephews, all dead broke and needing support, poor and infighting, what to do?No worries, with the System in hand, I have the world!Harmonize the family, build wealth and prosper.The belle of the villages for miles around, Jinhua the beauty!……Mountain man, what was it you said before? You'd rather die than marry her, and even one more glance would shorten your life?A certain mountain man: No, no, no, wife, you must have heard wrong! I said I'd rather die than not take another glance, and I'd shorten my lifespan just to marry you.Hmph, that's more like it!!

France, 1934. The scars of the Great War still shape the military minds of the Third Republic. Trapped in the past, its generals place their faith in fortifications and defensive warfare, while across the Rhine, a new German army rises, faster, deadlier, and ready to crush everything in its path.Into this world awakens Captain Étienne Moreau, a man who should not exist. He remembers another life, one where France falls in 1940, where German tanks storm through the Ardennes, bypassing the Maginot Line. One where his country surrenders in a matter of weeks.But here, now, he has a chance to stop it.As an officer in the 2nd Armored Division, he fights for reforms: pushing for mobile tank warfare, warning of Hitler’s growing ambitions, and challenging the high command’s obsession with World War I tactics. Yet, his ideas are dismissed as radical, madness from a young officer who “thinks he knows war.”Surrounded by political intrigue, military infighting, and rising fascism, Moreau must carefully navigate the system, winning allies among future leaders like Charles de Gaulle, while avoiding suspicion from the French High Command. His knowledge is a double-edged sword, if he is too aggressive, he risks being labeled a traitor. If he does nothing, he will live to see France burn.As war draws closer, Moreau faces a terrifying question: Can history be changed? Or is France doomed to fall, no matter what he does?Time is running out. The Blitzkrieg is coming. And he may be France’s last chance to fight back.

Knox is an omega – poor, orphaned, weak, and bullied. He was the unluckiest human being alive – according to his own.Burdened by debt, he has no choice but to stop school and work to pay off his loans all the while hiding the truth and pretending as a beta to save himself from harassment. He accepted all legal jobs he could get to make ends meet.Including a contractual relationship with an alpha who’s suffering from a pheromone disability. He gets paid – enough to free him from all of his debts. All he has to do is help the alpha stabilize his pheromone…not until that night happens…The contract was breached. Knox has to pay the price. Afraid of his circumstances, he ran away.Years later, Knox became a capable man. He has a nice job and a kind boss. When his boss got invited to an engagement party, as his secretary, Knox had to come with him. However, he was shocked to find out that the man to be engaged was none other than the spitting image of his son!How will Knox keep the truth from him, when after their eyes met at the party, the alpha had already marked him as his property, claiming him as the payment of the contract he breached?Will Knox hide and run away again? Or will he choose to pay off the debt to be free? Will he be able to push away the alpha whose vices are hidden behind his attractive mask or will Knox abandon his virtues and embrace the dangerous father of his son?

“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.