I Was Mistaken as a Great War Commander - Chapter 136

Sold by her father, Bella short for Arabella, was forced to live a life as a slave that would entertain the guests of the castle.The job of slaves were merely to be humiliated and to have as feast once they became a boring creature toward the guests. Arabella with her fierce attitude had only caused more trouble than good, although that helped her from being feasted by the vampires until her body dried up, the vampires also enjoy in harming her, toying with her, hoping to see that one day she would break.However she had caught the wrong attention by those crimson gaze, eventually being the toy of the one and only Mad Crown Prince of Versailles. Eventually this interest only cause her to be more tangled by the twisted and thorny battle for the Throne.Will eventually Bella concede and accept the Mad crown prince?Or will she finally succeed in running away from his grasp.Why her?*** excerpt***Arabella felt her wrists stung as the shackle around her wrist jingled from the sudden pull. She then met with the icy red eyes that brood down upon her appearance, drinking into every inch of her figure as if he was studying her, even to how those breaths escaped her lips.“I thought we had bonded over the days we have spent together, Bella,” he sang, his bright scarlet eyes betraying the singing tone he had used as it had grown so dark and filled with anger. “Yet you left so quickly as soon as I opened the castle gate.”Bella gritted her teeth, her eyes glaring at him as she defiantly shook his hand off her face, “I can remind you if you have forgotten it, Your Majesty, I am kept here against my wish.”Cassius' smile faded as he stared at her. The sudden pin-drop silence filled her nerves with tension as she found his smileless face the most terrifying sight. She had always known his fearsome side however, it felt scarier tonight. Bella tried to endure how loud her heart had raced against her chest, gathering her breaths together even though it remained shallow in his presence.“So cold,” he muttered, his tone trying to tease her, but she could see the raw anger crossing his eyes. “You cannot run from me. Not after what we've done. Not after what you promised.”Her heart faltered. She wasn't supposed to stay in this castle; she knew that the royal palace was filled with those vampire monsters who would kill for their desire, simply to have fun. She knew she should never give her heart to any of these monsters, and she had once believed she would never. But that was until Cassius came.She had made that promise because her heart had betrayed her, and she wished that she had never uttered that promise. Promises she had made to him on the call of love. Yet deep within her, a part of her still crave for him.“You're not the first one I have broken my promises with,” she gritted her teeth and looked up at him, “I broke my promise the way you broke yours first, isn't it fair?”“Fair? Then was everything a lie, Arabella?” he murmured, his hands cupping her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You were mine the moment you entered my castle. And you will be mine until the very end.”She gulped as his eyes shone underneath the moonlight, his gaze unforgiving over her, exposing his wild hunger.Her breath caught, her pulse quickening. “A human and a vampire should have never stayed together. They were all right.”“I don't care,” he spoke through his clenched jaw. “You're going to remain here by my side forever.”

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.