Novelas y relatos de Devilman Crybaby Miki

I pouted. "You've always been impatient." He chuckled and turned to me. "Fine, I'll give you one sneak peek: we got involved with a devil, and he tried to kill you." "You're kidding me." I said deadpan. "No, I'm being real. You got involved with the mafia lord devil of Sinclair City, and he tried to kill you."

my voice cracked, and I clenched on the edge of the desk. "You think killing John erased what happened? You think running away, changing your name, makes it go away?" His voice turned cruel as he closed the gap. "You are still that scared little boy hiding under the bed, pissing himself when he hears boots thudding against the floor, aren't you, Micheal." I snapped, my body moving before I gave the order, smashing my fist into his face, the crack echoing. "Don't fucking call me that." Liam staggered back, grinning as blood dripped from his lip like a lunatic. "You never escaped him, did you?"

Millie continues "take his money, take his job, take his happiness, take his soul. It still won't be enough to pay back what he did to you" Tears roll down her cheeks and her vision becomes clear again. She can't think of the last time she looked in a mirror and her face wasn't dripping in tears "There you go, crying again. Like you always are" "I'm not" she wipes her face "I'm not crying anymore" "Good" ~

“What’s plan B?” Finally making my way in front of him, I mockingly patted his shoulder. I watched as his form slowly loosen at my encouraging grin. “Plan B is for you-” Hands shapeshifting into claws, I dug them into the meat and bone of his shoulder, ripping off his arm with minimal effort. “-to get that stitched up before you bleed all over my freshly cleaned floor. Well this isn’t actually plan B, but this will help get you off my bad side if you listened to what I said.” I ignored his screams of pain, too busy staring at the blood that was dripping from my claws. I turned around, sucking the blood off as I made my way back to my chair. “Also, be a champ and tell the nearest servant that

I could hear Damien’s husky voice as he stroked me again and I cried out in pleasure, feeling beads of sweat forming on my face. Fuck. I knew he knew what to do. He just loved tormenting me, didn’t he? “Come on, speak up. You have the liberty of talking now, not after you’re unable to.” Darius smirked down at me as he softly slapped me with his cock and I panted hungrily as I took a whiff of it. “I want it badly.” I strained through gritted teeth. “How badly, princess.” Draven pushed further as he brought his cock to my lips, drawing my bottom lip down with the tip, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Mira stumbled back until her spine met the rough wall, trapping her. His eyes burned with rage, muscles tensed. "Lord Daemon despises your kind. He finds great joy in eradicating vermin like you. What did you do to earn his favor?" Panic clawed at Mira's throat. She glanced at the door, longing for escape. "I swear, I've done nothing wrong." "Liar!" he thundered, closing the distance until he loomed over her. His hand shot out, gripping her jaw tightly, forcing her to meet his stare.

My name's Elizabeth Morgan, I'm 17 and a senior at Hillside High. If you didn't catch on, I live in this town called Hillside. We have lots of hills, and it's the most boring place I've ever lived. I don't recommend it to anyone. Anyways, back to the important stuff and the real reason why you're reading this. At my school, there's this one boy who is commonly known as the fuckboy. He's slept with every girl in our grade besides four of us. Those lucky four being myself, my best friend Ellie, and two other girls you'll probably hear about later.

Through a narrow gap in the center of the double doors, I peep into the chapel and my stomach turns instantly. Pierre Moretti is standing at the altar and this close, in the harsh daylight, he looks even more cruel and devious than I remembered... He’s an older man with thin, slicked-back hair, a pockmarked face, and dark, dead eyes that make him look infinitely more disgusting and wicked than my stepfather could ever hope to be...

Helpless. I’m nothing. I only exist at his mercy. At least that’s what he tells me. His face twists with something ugly when I don’t react the way he wants. “Cry,” he demands, voice rising. “Just cry!” I don’t. I can’t. Something in me refuses. That’s what he hates the most. “You’re a freak,” he spits, shaking me harder. “You hear me? A fucking freak. I just want to see it. Just once. I want to see you break.”