Carnivals: Claimed By The Deranged Alpha Prince [BL] - Chapter 209: Trapped

Chi Le had a dream. In the dream, he was sleeping with his deadly rival. He smelled of Alpha all over his body, and there was a wedding photo hanging on the wall.

After waking up, he wiped the cold sweat from his brow, and had to accept the fact that he and his rival would get married in the future.

He is ready to differentiate into an Alpha, and delivers milk and warmth to Sheng Zhuo every day, hoping to turn him into a fair-skinned and beautiful Xiaojiao.

It was later discovered that… Sheng Zhuo was the Alpha.

Knowing the truth, Chi Le almost burst into tears, “If I say that I treat you well because I want to be a double-A big brother with you, would you believe me?”

During Sheng Zhuo’s susceptible period, he always stared at the back of Chi Le’s neck with fiery eyes.

Chi Le sighed, “It’s useless for you to stare at me, I’m destined to be an Alpha, the two of us can only get double A’s at most.”

Sheng Zhuo pulled him back into his arms and hugged him tightly, “I don’t care.”
Chi Le: “…” Men in the susceptible period are really cruel, even Alphas are not spared!

–

Chi Le thought that he would differentiate into an Alpha, so he made full theoretical preparations for marking Sheng Zhuo in advance.

Later, he differentiated into Omage, and Sheng Zhuo kissed the back of his neck lightly, teasing him deliberately: “Teach me how to bite.”

Chi Le: “…” I won’t bite you!

Everyone always thought that Sheng Zhuo and Chi Le were deadly rivals who hated each other.

Until Chi Le was drunk, hugged Sheng Zhuo and shouted: “Wife!”

Everyone: “…” So you are such deadly enemies.

AO Cookies~Sheng Zhuo A X Chi Le O

#一个Omega thought he was an Alpha, and changed his ways to love his ‘wife’ all day long (bushi)#

Content tags: fantasy space flower season rainy season sweet text campus
Search keywords: Protagonist: ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

Crossing over to an independent urban world where martial arts and immortal law coexisted, the only thing Lin Shen could rely on was his clone’s golden finger.

“Clone cultivation, the host becomes stronger.”

“Clone [Pure Flame Body]: Flame attribute techniques cultivation speed +300%, Blazing Flame Palm, Melting Hand, Pure Flame Sword Skill… Any flame attribute techniques at your service. You can become a master in a day!”

“Clone [Natural Daoist Body]: cultivation speed +500%. All martial arts techniques can be understood at first glance, and will be integrated, crushing all geniuses!”

“Clone [Non-self Sword God]: Sword art technique power +200%, sword art technique cultivation speed +200%. No matter how strong you are, I will cut you down with one strike!”

…

“You never know how many clones are trying to cultivate behind the person you are talking to in front of you!”

“What does it have to do with me if my clone did it?”

“Don’t try to outnumber me cuz you can’t!”

“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.

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”