Villain: After Slacking Off The Protagonist Collapse Novels & Stories

Close my eyes and let the vodka pull me toward unconsciousness. Tomorrow I'll wake up in this same apartment, with this same headache, facing this same empty life. I'll look for jobs I won't get, drink vodka I can't afford, scroll through photos of a woman who's forgotten I exist. This is my ending. Not a dramatic confrontation, not a final showdown, not a redemption arc where I see the error of my ways and become a better man. Just this: a slow fade into obscurity, a cautionary tale no one will remember, a villain who ran out of fight. Some people don't get second chances, some people don't deserve them.

"Am I the only one who sees how stupid she's being? Please, tell her not to go along with this hair brained scheme of his, Miss Lillian. We know next to nothing about the guy and what we do know isn't very promising. We can not just send her away with a guy like that." I took a seat at the edge of Miss Lillian's bed, letting out a sigh. Her room was the place the three of us usually met at whenever we were free to chat and catch up. Though, today the atmosphere in the room was anything but happy. After having danced most of the night last night and then working around the house for most of the day, I was too tired to have any sort of an argument, let alone one that seemed nearly impossible t

She smiled softly at me, her eyes beaming with sincerity, reassuring my doubts and clearing up the negativities in my mind. "... thank you, Joewella" I mumbled while plastering a smile on my face. In this world, Joewella is my first ally. She is the only one Victoria could trust and lean on. Only her. So why do I feel a hidden presence somewhere? Like a rat lurking around the corner. I lifted the scissors inside the kit and impulsively threw it with all my might towards the window, stabbing the oak tree without looking.

A faint, thrilling heat began to uncoil in her stomach. "If your son knew his father was sleeping with the woman he loves, I imagine he'd be quite horrified," Nicha sneered. The petite woman made a move to get up and leave. This middle-aged man was simply far too charismatic. Even though he was approaching his fifties, his magnetism was undeniably dangerous. "I'm not the only villain here, Nicha. You're just as wicked as I am," Chayon said, his jaw tightening. "And so what?" the younger woman fired back.

Reyn's hand fell to his side as he glared at Zale. I stood between them, all three of us naked. Ahhh, two hot male leads, with huge—no, no, no, two hot male leads are fighting over me, this is a dream, I thought, giggling mentally, but keeping a worried facial. But I am the villainess here, isn't this occurring too fast? Trust should be hard to build. But this is a fictional world; anything is possible, I thought, my head turning from side to side, swooning over the muscular bodies.

He had read all seven twice and the first three a third time because the world-building in the early volumes was genuinely excellent, before the plot started prioritizing the hero's romantic complications over the political infrastructure. The hero: Calen Ashford. Platinum-tier by Volume 6, the youngest in three generations. Motivated by a genuine belief that villain-blooded nobles were a systemic threat, which the novel framed as correct through the behavior of every villain-blooded noble the reader actually met. He was not stupid, not cruel, and functionally impossible to outfight at any tier Kael could realistically reach in the next decade.

Villains earned exactly what they got. But villains didn't stand in hallways at midnight reading old case files on their dead wife, though I didn't know that yet, I only knew, watching him now, that whatever lived underneath that cold exterior was more complicated, more wounded, more genuinely present for his son's small victories than the story I'd constructed allowed for.

I used to be the cockiest rich kid in high society, but somehow I became the biggest simp in the whole circle. It was all because I was bound to a heroine conquest system. If I failed, I would be finished. To stay alive, I had no choice but to do everything Samantha said and constantly try to please her. Knowing I could give her anything she wanted, she took the sports car I gave her and went for a drive with her childhood friend, Charles Lindsey. Then she left me alone on the highway in the middle of a violent storm. "Samantha, my asthma is acting up. My medicine is in the car. Can you come back and get me?" She gave a cold, mocking laugh. I could also hear Charles laughing on the phone. "W

I suspected that Villain X had helped him in the past, just like she helped me, and he was doing all of this to pay her back. He was just a pawn, moved by the Villain X. A doll controlled by the puppet master. Yet I could see why he was in his position right now. Frankly, Blake wasn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box, he was easily triggered by anger and pride. The dude was like a walking jerrycan of gasoline, ready to explode with even the tiniest spark of fire.

she muttered bitterly, "you ignored it. You convinced yourself it was nothing, that your best friend couldn't possibly be sleeping with your husband. And your husband was as loyal as the papers say." The word husband felt like acid on her tongue, burning her with every syllable. She clenched her fists, glaring at her lifeless body as if willing it to respond, to justify its failures. Cody was not her husband. He was a horrifying murderer who deserved to die buried alongside that cheating bitch. "You let them fool you. You let them laugh at you behind your back, while you played the trusting wife, the naive little friend, and the fool." Her voice cracked, but the contempt in her tone only dee