Fighting Inner Demons Tattoo Novels & Stories

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

For a moment, a look of utter hatred and disgust crossed my eyes. "Fuck this world." I looked back at him. "Honestly, I just don’t care anymore. Having inner demons doesn’t make me a bad person, but it doesn’t make me a good one either. While I probably shouldn’t say the thoughts aloud or act upon them, they are perfectly harmless on their own, so I’m fine with it. At least, I know I’m not alone. Everyone has inner demons. They just don’t like to talk about them." Isadore and I locked eyes and for the first time I could see some emotion and bitterness in them. Unconsciously, I reached my hand out and grabbed his hand. This was also the first time I initiated a physical contact with him. He d

He holds his hands up and backs off. Lola pouts. “Being a girl suck sometimes.” Ryland strips down right in front of me. My gaze lingers on his bare chest. I swallow hard—he’s stunning. The tattoo etched on his stomach catches my eye, pulling my focus away from his sculpted body. It reads ‘Keep fighting.’ Words have never hit me quite as hard as those ones tattooed on his skin. I wonder why those words. What is the meaning behind them? I finally lift my head and look at his face.

I moaned and withered, tears escaping my eyes as shame washed over me. Placing my hand between my thighs to rub the still swollen flesh of my sex I knew this was not going away any time soon. I have already humiliated myself by having sex with not just a stranger but my own enemy. "I'm here, kitten." His voice came out of the darkness to tower over my withering body. When he walked into the light coming through the doors, I noticed for the first time his body was covered almost completely with tattoo. The artist had obviously taken his time and poured hours into the intimate images of demons holding half naked angels standing on top of bone yards. It was beautifully tragic and ironically des

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

She was surely set out to punish me. A few minutes after my mate eft the room, I found my way to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I knew everything about me was different. A huge dark tattoo had appeared on my chest. It was a tattoo of a male in a cage and a female staring at the figure in the cage. Without being told, I was able to decipher the meaning. My freedom was gone. I was the male figure in the cage, the cage was prison set by the moon goddess, the female was my mate, my salvation.

Suddenly she asked him because she had always been curious to know about this. "You know, I used to be extremely arrogant with people, and I didn't like it all. There were demons within me that I was fighting, which is why I made this 'be kind' tattoo with a rose to remind myself that I need to be kind to the people around me." He told her, and she stared at him unblinkingly with sadness in her eyes. She felt sorry for him that he had to face all this alone. "Now that I have you, I don't need this tattoo anymore because your single glance is enough to dispel my rage and soothe my soul. So don't be upset." He pulled her chubby cheek before placing a kiss on her forehead.

“No.” I said firmly. “I must insist. Yo-” the doctor stepped forward “You touch me with that needle and I won’t be the only one with a concussion.” I threatened. “I saw your tattoo. You can’t be afraid of needles.” Janine said. Damn, I had a massive tattoo of my wolf on my back. She was pure white, which is a symbol of royalty. “What is your tattoo of?” Axel asked.

They were a vivid, piercing green that seemed to see through my skin. Eucharist. The legend that could pull life back from the grave. My skin glowed, mirroring the green veins throbbing in his neck. A tattoo etched itself into my forearm—a white wolf, burning white-hot. I stared at the symbol, feeling a sting of bitter irony; a mark of the wolf burned into the skin of a girl who had just traded her inner beast for a savior. We floated in that emerald silence before the light died, dropping us hard onto the ferns.

“Why won’t you come with me, to the hospital.” “No. I’m never going there. Everyone will see me.” He went silent since I sounded so desperate about staying away from people. “There is a demon inside me, Zeke. I can’t stay with people. I am a danger,” I continued feeling my tears falling down from my eyes. It hurts me thinking about my situation but I can’t do anything about it. Finally, he is done tying all my limbs and I can no longer move that much. “I will help you get rid of your demon,” he uttered.