Pokemon Trainer Oc Male

My mother is a hospital director. To give my brother, an intern doctor, more hands-on experience, she assigns him as the lead surgeon for my brain tumor operation. I beg her to let someone else do it and tell her it's my only chance at survival. But she slaps me hard across the face and screams, "How did I raise such a selfish, ungrateful child? Your brother has just started his internship—can't you help him improve his skills? Is that too much to ask?" Later, the surgery fails. I die on the operating table. And my mother seems to have aged decades overnight.

I'm wrong, Xavier is wrong. I should have killed him, and he should have been the end of me, therefore we shouldn't have been together. With murder and blood, we began. We began with games and sexual gratification. What we have is a complete catastrophe. However, we can't stop. Either I will destroy my mate, or he will destroy me. I was raised as an assassin, dressed as a man with a male wolf, and sent on a mission to kill Xavier the Alpha with a female wolf. However, the moon goddess pulled a prank on me when I was mated to the Alpha, whom I must kill in order to gain my freedom. What will transpire once Xavier understands that Hazel is not who he thought she was. As he realizes that the one person he trusted is out for his life, would he try to accept the mate bond or destroy her?

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

SPG ALERT ❗ WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised. Contains graphic sex scenes, mature contents, adult language and situation intended for mature readers only. Scarlet was an office assistant in a big corporation; however, she was constantly bullied by her co-workers. She's the one bringing coffee, photocopying documents, and doing all the chores in her department. When Scarlet's best friend invited her and decided to celebrate her birthday in a highly reputable and exclusive male strip club, she had no choice but to agree. There she met a masked male stripper. He danced her seductively and sweaty. As if possessed, she found herself lurking backstage and secretly observing the man behind the mask. The man was bizarre and ambiguous, but in the end, she managed to see his face. Shocked was evidence in her face. She could not believe what she saw— "It's her boss, the CEO of the corporation."

It was midnight, and I was out at my stall when the cops took me to the station. They checked my profile and looked at me weirdly. "You're a Greatpeak graduate. What are you doing setting up shop in a bazaar?" That was odd. I went through the profile and realized that yes, while the student's ID was mine, the photo was not. I knew the guy in the photo. Josiah Ferguson. I had no idea I got accepted into Greatpeak University twenty years ago. Eventually, I was released, but I had no idea how I trudged back home. Then, I heard Hazel Quinley, my wife, talking to someone on the phone. "I won't let Michael get in your way, Josiah. Just go abroad." So that's it! It was her! My wife helped Josiah take what was supposed to be mine! I was sick. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to confront her and Josiah, but then she stabbed me in the back, and I died. "I'm sorry, Michael. I can't let you ruin Josiah's future." And then I woke up. I was taken back in time to my high school days. Our homeroom was giving out college application forms. This time, things would be different. This time, I would take back what was rightfully mine!

My wife went abroad for a six-month training course and unexpectedly secured a major deal.  Thanks to this contract, she was promoted to director against all odds. When I saw the news of her return in the work group chat, I immediately ordered flowers to pick her up at the airport. However, her belly, which would have been eight months pregnant, showed no signs of it. She had aborted our child, turning me into a laughingstock among colleagues. Just as I tried to swallow my anger, she told me she was pregnant with someone else’s child. She demanded that I step aside and make way for her.

I live in my own world since I was young. Or should I say I closed the door from everyone. My family's brand was music, and I hate it. I became a girl who kept everything to herself and never voice out her opinion. Why would I? It's just a waste of breath, they will never listen to her anyway. Until I met a friend who opened my closed heart and let me know that living with someone was happier. My friend, my best friend, Layla. She becomes my light in my dark world. Everything she does, right or wrong, when she cried or laugh, I will always stay by her side. Yes, I'm a loyal friend. So I tried to help a certain good man that really loved her and could make her happier. But turns out I fell to that man. Hard. Head first. I kept it to myself not until I found out that my friend was in love with another man. Oh, how happy I am. But the problem is, this man clung hardly to my best friend. Oh, what will I gonna do? Should I seduce him? However another problem kept popping. This threats... Who made them? **** This is a story of second female lead of a certain love story being in love with the second male lead. It is not only romance, but also with a hint of a thrill.

When someone needs an enormous amount of money, what can they do to get it? Sell a kidney? (Yeah, that's an appropriate option) However, I became a game tester. All I have to do is to make sure that the main character and male lead will reach their happy ending. Sweet! Easy Money! What if the game was harder than I thought? And what's this hidden task?! Do I really have to reach my own happy ending too?!

My wife, Violet Miller, was obsessed with cleanliness. Yet I caught her peeling shrimp for a male intern at a dinner party. I demanded a divorce on the spot. Violet stared at me in disbelief. “Daniel is like a younger brother to me. What’s wrong with looking after him? Are you really divorcing me over this?” My heart ached. Maybe... it was time to let go.

On the day we decided to get a divorce, I saw Miranda’s account book while I was packing up my stuff. Aside from our daily expenses, Miranda had also set up a scoring sheet for me. Miranda had taken notes of all the things I had done ever since we started dating. Some of them were such miniscule things that even I had forgotten. She took note of them all with a red pen, and she scored them by either awarding me points or deducting them. However, the further down the sheet, the more points were deducted. In the end, I saw Miranda add one line in black ink. [He’s no longer the Henry Jones who used to love me: -100]