Mock Heroic Novels & Stories

She had never seen him look quite so indignant and, in spite of everything, Loveth burst out laughing. '‘What’s so funny?’' he demanded furiously. '‘You are! Of course I’m not calling you a gigolo—I don’t expect you’ve ever had to pay for sex in your life—." "Oh, wasn’t there? Did she have any idea of how much he was aching for her right now? How if he wasn’t such a gentleman he would be sliding that dress up her thighs right now and letting his fingers entice her. He swallowed, made a barely perceptible curse. The irony did not escape him—even at such a moment of high desire—that no one had ever accused Mich Hunter of being a gentleman before, least of all himself!

She had stood like a shield against the worst of circumstances, unfazed by human malice, cruelty, or the sheer unpredictability of existence. Yet, today, that armor had shattered. The fierce, resilient Divya she had known for years felt entirely foreign, replaced by a trembling, terrified stranger. Her vulnerability stemmed from the very people she loved—her small family. How could she ever gamble with their safety just to save her own skin? How could she thrust the people who meant everything to her into the path of danger simply to protect her own interests?

My father was a hero cop, but I was a blemish to his shining resume as I was a delinquent who smoked, drank, and got into fights. Every time I tried to visit him at the precinct, he would slap me and tell me to leave in front of his colleagues. His fatherly love was all meant for Nana Smith, the daughter of his fallen comrade who was a paragon of good character and academic excellence. When Nana was kidnapped, he sent the entire city's officers after the kidnappers. When I was stabbed three times by some thugs and called him for help, he snapped at me, "Quit being a bother. The death of vermin like you is simply good riddance anyway." Even as I suffocated in agony, I lay in a pool of my

Mom is one of the most famous reporters in the country. She exposes all kinds of wrongdoing, and the public hails her as a champion of justice. What she doesn't know is that while she's out fighting for other people, I'm being viciously bullied at school. When I finally work up the courage to ask her for help, she gives me a disgusted look and tells me to quit being so dramatic. Eventually, my bullies beat me to death and bury my body in a reeking drainage ditch. When my body is finally dug up, Mom is the reporter sent to cover the scene.

“You were not a coward and you did not let those women die. It wasn't like you helped them kill those women. You tried to stop them and they hurt you. You were young and you were afraid. You were human. That affliction happens to the best of us sometimes and we can't do anything about it.” “So being human is an affliction?” He teases her with a smile, trying to lighten the mood and she chuckles. “Of course it is!” But then she sobers up, turning serious again. “Seriously though, you didn't let them. You did eventually stop them, so you are a hero. The blood of those women before, when you were a child, that isn't on your hands, so quit trying to make out like it is.” “You don't understand-”

Jake said, looking relieved and shrugging. I gasped, still open-mouthed, looking at him in amazement. I shouldn't be, but that made me a little more enchanted by him. He looked like a brave knight, ready to do justice to whoever needed it; he didn't mind using his brute strength if it was to reduce to nothing all these sons of bitches who liked to grow up against those who couldn't. For me, he became the true definition of a hero.

I think her name was Mary. I stood up abruptly, clenched my fists, and said with anger in my voice: - Mary? Did those motherfuckers kill Mary? They made me believe for twelve years that rogues killed her. The man puts his hand on his face and lets the tears fall. - I was friends with her parents, and when she saw me, she tried to help me. She knew the true alpha was me; as a warrior, she knew I was the one she owed her allegiance to. But my men were not prepared, and we were cruelly defeated. Now I'm better prepared, and my men are well trained. This time, I'll win and be the fair alpha the pack deserves.

“You mean the rampaging wolf thing?” “Exactly. He tells the whole school that he defeated it, singlehandedly, and suddenly he’s Mr. Selfless Hero. The guy who ‘sold out’ his so-called friends because he ‘cared about the greater good’? Please. That’s not bravery, that’s PR.” Lucas smirked, pushing his phone into his pocket. “Yeah, but apparently being a manipulative snake now counts as noble sacrifice if you word it right. Guess I missed that class in ethics.”

Domini struggled with the right word. Brock’s eyes narrowed. “Such a what?” “The type of guy who’s loyal. Polite. Thoughtful. Generous. He’d walk a little old lady across the street. He’d jump in front of a bus to save a baby in a runaway stroller. He’d give up his seat to a pregnant woman. He’d…” “Throw himself on a grenade to save your life?” Brock supplied. “Exactly. Has he always been that way? Or did he become that way after his injury?”

Then I see this thing , and up there I can see an untidy door and what I assume is maybe a food store. Perhaps if I call out to my mate in a way that only a warrior can understand, she will honour it and reveal herself. “I AM ALPHA HERCULES BRADFORD. I INVOKE THE CODE OF HONOUR AND DEMAND THAT YOU BRING YOURSELF TO ME THIS INSTANCE, ELSE CONSIQUEN…”