Dark Villain Aesthetic Novels & Stories

"Dang it." I look at Shaylee, and she looks at me, shaking her head. "Alright, 'Her Dark Knight' it is. Now we need to figure out what the play will be about," Shaylee says. And once again, Andrew surprises us. "It should be about a wolf who tries to resist his feelings for a human he's imprinted on, but the more time he spends with her, the stronger the pull becomes."

This was darkening the pure young mind of the villainess; she wanted to destroy the world so bad. This hateful injustice continue, followed by the growing hatred of the villainess until she meant him... The person who made her saw the light. He ( Male lead)came into her life like an angel but he wasn't her but belong to the female lead. The villainess had enough of the world unfairness, she didn't understand why the Haven where showing more favor towards the already favoured daughter of the general. Why people like her was only surviving in darkness and loneliness. The villainess decided to harmed the female lead but failed only to be whipped almost to death, and was abandoned in her dusty r

Tosh reacted as he began to feel the pain coming from the outside which made his eyes glow. “The blood is here…” Tosh muttered before he glared over at Ashlyn. But along with their conversation inside the abandoned barn, Vladimir was totally pissed as it was already radiating throughout his entire being. His eyes were totally bloodshot and his physical appearance was shifting into a very dangerous predator because of being a fallen rogue. His face was distorted like a vampire bat with angry veins around his eyes and his nails were totally sharp like claws. Then his dark smoke that he was emitting could be formed into bat wings but it was more a toxic malice that lure every fallen rogue aroun

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was ashamed. I finally looked towards the altar and there he was. Dante Moretti. Dark, tousled hair and perfectly chiselled jawlines, he was proof that beautiful people could be villains too. I could see the tattoos that ran up his neck, peeking out of the collar of his shirt. It made me wonder just how much inking he had. Dante's predatory gaze was fixated on me the whole time, like a true Mafia boss. He watched my every move with an unreadable expression.

Chains rattled when I moved, biting into my skin. The dungeon was darker this time, lit only by flickering torches that cast trembling shadows across damp stone walls. The air reeked of blood and mildew. I wasn’t alone. A figure peeled itself from the shadows, slow and deliberate, like he wanted me to see every step. He was beautiful — cruelly, impossibly beautiful. Dark hair, eyes like molten obsidian, lips curved in a smile too sharp to be charming. But it was the energy rolling off him — cold and ancient, thick with malice — that made my stomach twist.

Their true identities are shrouded in the depths of their shared malevolence. Shadows flickered across his features, accentuating the malevolence that simmered within him. He leaned forward, his voice dripping with calculated malice. “Ah, welcome back my dear accomplice,” he sneered, his voice a venomous whisper. “I did not see you arriving. Grace me with what brought you here suddenly.” The devilish smirk grew wider, mirroring the darkness in her heart. She relished in the anticipation of the imminent destruction of her enemy, her mind consumed by a sinister plan that had been meticulously crafted.

He sat down in a grand armchair, exuding power and control. Drake wore an immaculate black tailcoat, whose elegance contrasted with the danger he radiated. He played absentmindedly with a vintage lighter, his every movement deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. Half of his face was hidden by a mask, but what was visible was enough to freeze anyone in their tracks—sharp features, pale skin, and a chilling intensity in his gray eyes. Unlike Marion, Drake was something far darker. There was a deathly stillness about him, an inhuman ruthlessness that permeated the room.

And how come they described me as a repulsive monster who only wants nothing but to promote justice and create balance by eliminating all the good people living in this pitch-black society? Sporadically, the particular way in which they deliver the message infuriates me tremendously. It was so quick and easy for them to come up with some off-putting, villainous adjectives to highlight what they would want individuals to perceive. They did not even realize, however, that the individuals I killed had been stabbed to death hundreds of times by this world of darkness.

"I'll give him a call and tell him to get the car ready." He turns on his heels and walks towards the room. God, his body. I've never thought a man's body was beautiful, but his is. From the crown of his head to the tip of his cock, he's perfection personified. Physically, at least. Deep down, he scares me. He's like Devon in that sense. They have this darkness within them that could destroy lives and do much worse. The only difference is Devon shows it, but Damien? He keeps it locked up. I never want to see his dark side. Ever.