A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs - Chapter 50: Warm Words

In a world where strength reigns supreme and only the strong are revered, conflict and injuries are commonplace.

[Rebirth + Era + Space + Getting Rich + Counterattack Face-Slapping]Waking up, Su Yuanyuan found herself in a time of famine. Looking at the bird-poor environment, she felt like she could die again to escape back.But why does this thought give her a splitting headache?Want to hang herself, but the safety rope brought from her space would break on its own?Thinking of jumping into the river, and she gets pulled out just after jumping in?Alright, better to live stubbornly than to die well. She has a space, can farm, and doesn't fret over food or clothing. Heaven, the 'father', offers conveniences, making life pleasantly good!However, that handsome guy who always forces her to work, I'm only ten years old, is it really okay for you to look at me with such deep affection?

After a brutal attack leaves him for dead, Alex awakens in a new world unlike any he has ever known. Reborn into a prestigious family, he is thrust into a realm where power defines worth, and ancient secrets lie hidden beneath layers of intrigue.Determined to seize this second chance, Alex must navigate dangerous family rivalries, uncover the truth about the enigmatic woman who saved him, and master the powers now at his disposal. As he delves deeper into mysteries, he finds himself at the center of a growing conflict—one that could shape the fate of this world and his place within it.Will Alex rise to the challenge and rewrite his destiny, or will the forces against him ensure his downfall once again?

“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.