Abe the Wizard - Chapter 1477 - Victory

[Matured Content]Isadora Skaldwood was born a fae of impure blood “mannfae” deemed an inferior creation of the olden gods. However, at birth she was kissed by the goddess of light and blessed with the ability of a skin weaver, capable of healing any wound or affliction.Betrayed by her family, she's sold for gain and shipped across the world to a brothel, into the hands of a selfish businessman who exploited her abilities for years. Travelers come to this brothel not to lay with the rumored mannfae but to seek her abilities—the star price of the famous brothel in the countryside.But then everything changed when “He” appeared…Kraven Val Thrond “The Reaper” of the Raven Court, a terrifying warrior feared by those who dared to speak his name. Dangerously handsome with looks identical to a god, silver eyes like the crescent moon—but a mind dipped in madness.Isadora despised him, not just for stealing her away, but for thrusting her into his world of blood and chaos—taking her freedom just like everyone else does. He’s insane! But that’s only the cherry on top, his obsession is wicked.(Excerpt)“You want to kill me and at the same time, you do not” Isadora’s features were stern and the cold look in her eyes almost forced a laugh out of him.She got more frustrated by his silence, choosing to insult him and be done with it. “Does a madman not know what to do with a mannfae?”“I can think of a thousand ways to kill you,” Kraven replied in a velvety voice. “Like first throwing you off-board”Isadora's angry expression morphed into one of horror.“But that would be terrifying, wouldn’t it? Drowning in the dark sea, unable to breathe” he voiced as if he could vividly picture it—and him on board watching. “Tell me, Isadora”A cold chill crawled down her spine.“If I let you go, where would you run to, hm? I told you already this realm isn't kind to outcasts like us”“I'm not like you!”He chuckled lightly. “We're alike. What use could you be to this forsaken realm?”“What use could you have of me?” she asked shakily.“Oh love, I can think of many things but I’m not sure you’re ready… yet”

After being abandoned by her long time boyfriend on their wedding day, Rachael lost all her faith in love and relationships. But that changed when she met Andrew again.

With no hope of finding love again in her life, Rachael agreed to marry her father's best friend's son, Andrew Collins. But little did she know fate had different plans for her.

…..

Excerpt:

Holding his drunk wife in his arms, Andrew kicked the bedroom door open.

When he placed her in the bed, Rachael slowly opened her eyes. “Are we home?”

“Yes.” Taking her heels off, he covered her with the quilt. “I'll get you some warm water.” But before he could get up, she grabbed his hand.

“What happened? Do you want something else?”

Kicking the quilt off, she crawled in his lap. Placing one hand on his cheek and the other at the back of his neck, she inched closer. “Andrew—”

“Hmm?”

“I think I am falling for you, what should I do?”

Warning: This is a rewrite of my previous fanfic— Every Hole is a Goal.Current World: Avatar: The Last Airbender***Executed for escaping his owners, Nik met a relieving fate of beheading with the circumstances of his corpse unknown yet having an honorable end of his corpse is not his greatest concern for he is given a chance at life again. Of course, this meant Nik now worked for an organization that sent individuals like him throughout the omniverse for some reason unknown to him.As they say, if for the penny, in for the pounding.Nik: Wait... I'm not a prost... ehm, rental 'helper' anymore. Do I still charge?An adventure of a lifetime, they say. One that never ends.***Note:1) I don't own any original lore.2) This is the most standard 'collection' type harem novel you will ever see, so, if this is not your taste... well, give it a shot still and see if whether the other aspects of fanfic can cover them or not.3) All the characters I write smut about will be 18+. I will make sure to tweak the fanfic a bit in that way to make sure that the story itself adapts to these circumstances.4) If tags like an orgy and incestuous relationship are not your cup of tea, then... this may not be the 'one' fanfic for you.5) If men and women of sexual 'socialness' more commonly termed as floozy and even more degenerative terms most likely known to you all is not your cup of tea, then I apologize once again, this fanfic may not be the 'one.'6) There is no ntr, but there may be netori.

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.