Wizard World Irregular - Chapter 708 You Should Have Copped A Feel When You Had The Chance

The world is diverse and flourishing. Humanity has changed, and with it, brought in a new era of prosperity. Males and females still exist, but the spectrum from which humanity is cast has broadened. With the introduction of alpha, omega, and beta, humanity has evolved even further.In such a word, Dr. Andrew Knox, known environmental researcher, is happy being a beta male. It has made his life easier by being middle ground, and as much as some wish he was one way or the other, he’s happy being who he is. Thriving even.He works in a world renowned research facility. He makes friends easily, and his projects are always funded. He even found someone who he thinks he could end up marrying if things continue in the right direction.That, and the vacant house next to his apartment building gets bought by a new neighbour. A cute, but cautious omega who relies on Andrew as a beta for help. Andrew couldn’t be happier. He loves being a helper, and loves when people rely on him.All in all, Andrew really thinks he has everything made.That is, until a research project with shoddy data is thrown back into his face that he has no recollection of working on, and all of his reputation disintegrates in between one heartbeat and the next.Heartbroken, it isn’t until Andrew wakes up, chained to a wall that everything becomes clear. He becomes a test subject to one of the scientists that he trusted. That he expected would never harm him.The life he had known, where he was a respected researcher was ripped out from underneath him. His identity and everything he’s ever known is stolen from him from a crazed researcher who he had trusted, maybe even loved.He has to relearn who he is, what he is, from scratch.Thankfully, he has one person in his corner. He just never expected to have to rely on someone whose shoulders were so small.This is an a/b/o story, and will have those tropes associated with it. I hope you enjoy :)

In an inaccessible village, there were a few houses on the hillside.

People from far away were attracted here and the mountain road was crowded with luxury cars, because, in this town, there was a young man with incredible medical skills who could cure all kinds of illnesses!

Jian Heng, who lives in the United States, only wants to make enough money and return to China to retire happily. Unfortunately, by accident, he becomes a poor rancher!

Fortunately, he has an unknown cheat. From then on, Jian Heng started to run his own small ranch, and at the same time added some private goods, so that the group of American guests who came to the ranch adapted to the self-created Chinese style’ There are forceful living habits.

The new book “Small Peasants in the Great Era” is released, welcome everyone!

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.