Rise Of The Hoarder - Chapter 365 Jeremy Versus The Archangels [Pt 1]

‘The moment I faced its enormous eye, an unbearable headache struck me. Just by facing it, the amount of information exceeded what my brain could handle.’

Excerpt from ‘Things I Encountered in Space’ by Terra race space adventurer ‘Con Arche’.

…No, I was just looking out of curiosity…?

There was once a hero.

Unique black hair. Excellent eyes. Contrary to his delicate features, he who had abnormal strength was called the Otherworldy Hero.

At the hero’s long adventure (up to the point where his wooden sword that had been kindly granted to him by the king was replaced by the holy sword blessed by the holy maiden) he saved the prince that had been kidnapped by the demon king, and so the kingdom was swept by worry.

The hero’s strength that could fell the demon king was deemed too dangerous to leave unrestrained.

One advisor spoke up. Why not marry him to royalty?

The king thought that was a viable option. Family, to an alien from another world would be the best of chains. There was one problem. The king was abundantly blessed with sons and had princes galore, but not a single daughter.

Ho, and it wasn’t like I could marry off two boys.

At a burst of inspiration the king slapped his knee.

That was it!

You just had to turn a prince into a princess!

And so the hero ended up in a position to be marrying a man.

This story, is a tale of the aforementioned otherworldly hero, and his bride, the former-prince-now-princess and their ridiculously hilarious marriage.

“How did it go?” Lily asked the next morning when Ava got to the living room.“Terribly.” Ava replied flatly, dropping into one of the sofas.Sarah entered almost immediately and sent Ava a teasing and wicked smile.“Really? That bad? Lucas is really great in matters of the bedroom. Did you do something wrong?”“Our little new concubine here is a virgin.” Sarah announced. Lily gasped and covered her mouth.“Oh God. That is not the kind of man you want to lose your virginity with,” Lily said.Sarah burst into laughter at Lily's comment.“It's not funny,” Ava scowled.“Actually it is. Better warm up to the idea because when Alpha Lucas Raventhorn wants to take you, he will in the roughest way possible.” Sarah advised.“You mean like last night? I thought he was going to rip you in half.” Ava rolled her eyes.“I like my men rough.”“Well, I don't.” Ava retorted.“If you are looking for flowers, love, and vanilla sex. You are a concubine to the wrong alpha.”“Ain't that the truth.” Ava murmured under her breath

“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.