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Chronicles Of Wondering If I Was Meant To Bee

Cyko_Gamer
Beelzebub is always having a good time. It's almost as if she never actually got drunk. Save for the few like 7 times she did manage to and 2 that she got REALLY drunk. Of course, being the Queen Bee of Gluttony, she could do whatever she wants in her ring, yet she never considered throwing herself down the stairs. Why is that? Because 'I' exist. Hello there. Whis here, the illegitimate and most likely a bastard child of the definition of too much goodness. There is not a day I wonder why I exist, and I'll leave you to wondering why as I live this baseless life and hopefully nap forever at some point. The story will have references to the main series but will mostly be attempted to be original. It will have characters from the show in because this is a fanfiction and an oc insert, not a self insert. If it was, then I think pessimistic should be my full name. No romance here because I am handicapped in life experience, if it is hard to tell, I am making guesses on how people actually react to things like what is written here. Helluvaboss and it's characters do not belong to me, only the character that do not appear in the series are probably mine unless I request to add them in from other fan story creators which is a dream. Only "Mature" here is the vulgar speech, implications, and occasional and possible gore descriptions. No sex here, losers don't know explicit content in bed. Losers being me. Read on WattPad for earlier chapters, I started there, so feel free to catch up there if you want, CykoGamer.
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Villain's Breeding System: Evolving 999+ Harem into an SSS-Rank Legion

« MATURE CONTENT » His name is Raven Lustre. And the universe fucked him from day one. Imagine this: You get isekai'd to a fantasy world. Finally, right? Your moment. Dragon slayers, demon kings, the whole power fantasy package. Except when everyone else rolled Dragon, Archangel, Titan—bloodlines so pure they could split mountains on day one—you got Incubus. 60% purity. The discount bin special. Not the "seduce and conquer" kind you read about in those masterpiece web novels. The "your pheromones are weaker than cologne" kind. The "you can't charm anyone stronger than you" kind. Which in a world where everyone else is a walking apocalypse? Means you can't charm anyone who matters. So while Gareth—the muscle-brained Titan hero—was bench-pressing boulders, and Astasia—the Holy Archangel with a body that belonged in a cathedral and a face she hid behind a helmet—was literally glowing with divine power, Raven was in the back. The strategist. The brain. The guy they kept around because someone had to think. And they hated him for it. Astasia called him trash. Disgusting. Bastard. Freak. Every curse word a noblewoman could learn, she threw at him like stones. He thought she despised him. Thought she saw him as the weakest link dragging down the hero party. Turns out? 89% favorability. She was a fucking tsundere. And he never knew. Never saw it. Because he was too busy surviving, too busy stealing quick fucks with noblewomen in hallways just to recharge his trash-tier powers, too busy being treated like a prostitute with a brain instead of a hero. Then there was Nyra. The cat-woman. Gareth's slave. The one Raven fucked in secret because that idiot was too busy drawing pictures of Astasia like a lovesick puppy. 96% favorability. The one who actually loved him. The one he promised to free. And he failed. An Incubus got who died at Hand of Succubus during their first Session. The End.
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