Tattoo Angel Vs Devil Novels & Stories

the devil-like bastard asked with a sigh of relief. ‘Are you seriously relieved that I didn’t tell you to really stop? Like stop-stop?’ Angel wasn't the indecisive kind. No. Once he decided on something, he always saw it through. And he already decided at this moment. ‘I wanted this. I chose this. Him. Over the old pervert waiting for me at home.’ That—it was for sure. ‘If I’m already going to hell, I may as well pick the handsome VIP suite.’ “You can… mark me,” Angel whispered.

Devil side (😈) - It's becoming so hard for us day by day to survive and feed ourselves, then how will you bear his expenses? Angel side - So what? You will forget your moral and ethics just for money. Sorry but you can't. Devil side - Why not? Sometimes, being selfish is good for us. And like this, the Angel's and Devil's Convo go further ahead leading to a war-like situation and confusing our innocent Khushi's perspective. "Enough is enough now!", I shouted at myself, closing my eyes. And both the angel and devil got disappeared. "So finally I decided to go with the angel side of mine", I thought in my mind.

Any women except Angela, who looked at him in the eyes without flinching. "Do you know who you are talking to?!" Andrew shouted at her but immediately halted at Lucifer's raised hand. Signalling him to stop. "You have some guts to do that, Miss Colton. Perhaps you don't know I am hmmm?" As the devil possessed him, his voice turned temptingly smooth. Angela's heart wavered for a second looking into his deep gaze. So deep it could consume her into an endless abyss. She straightened her back trying to look more confidant and smirked. "Oh, I don't care who you are, to me you are just a patient,"

She may be lying to find a way to escape. "Is there anything more important?" I ask. "She has... has a tattoo on her left waist... it's angel wings..." I was a bit startled. All werewolves know that an Angel organization specializes in training werewolf hunters in human territory. Each hunter has a tattoo of angel wings on his body. Even though hunters only hunted Rogues that illegally entered human territory, just thinking about those lowly humans who dared to kill my kind always made me hate them. Why is my mate the enemy I hate the most? It's ironic! Is fate toying with me? Just because I thought I didn't need my mate because mates were such a nuisance, did the moon goddess punish me by g

“After this, you are mine, Sweet little thing. You’ll not be able to run or escape me. Because no matter where you run to, even though I have to turn this world upside down, I will find you and bring you right back to my side because you are bound to me.” I laughed. “Trying to scare me?” He looked almost human to me at that moment. He was trying to save me from himself? I took the pen from him and signed a contract with the Devil. Grinning, I fired his words right back at him. “Sounds like foreplay,” It was surprisingly a sunny day when I later said yes to marrying Damon in sickness and in lies. He said yes too and for a moment I wondered how fitting it was that I wore the black dress. Perha

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.

“That tattoo on your neck was the same as hers. The exact same, no difference. I would remember that tattoo even if I was dead.” I stared, still not knowing what else to say. I had never felt strongly about anything as I’d felt about this. But where was the evidence to prove I might have not been responsible for Zara’s death? And the same tattoo? No one had my tattoo. No one. It was the inking of me as an angel dressed in black and wielding a gun and a knife, and next to it was a star. The word ‘death’ was inked on one of the wings while black stars were inked dripping like tears from the other wing.

“Don Medici, do you love Miss Sophia?” Victor chose his words carefully, as if weighing every single one. “Sophia, she’s like the sun, innocent and bright. I won’t deny that I’ve fallen in love with her, too, but you need to understand. These two kinds of love are different.” His voice dropped lower, almost like a confession. “Rachel is like a scar over my heart, and Sophia is like the coat that covers that scar. Even though I’ve chosen Sophia as that coat…” His tone turned strangely intense and almost obsessive. “Rachel will be the one closest to my heart.”

Dominic continued typing commands into the terminal, launching defensive countermeasures that corralled the attackers, turning the terminal into a deadly trap. Minutes stretched like hours, each second filled with tension, adrenaline, and unspoken connection. Their shoulders brushed as they moved side by side, elbows bumping, hands close but focused. Each shared glance carried more than just survival, it carried trust, desire, and a simmering fire neither had admitted yet. The attackers surged again, this time more recklessly. Elara fired in controlled bursts, taking down two more before a third lunged toward her side. Dominic reacted instantly, his rifle cutting the man down with a single,

I lean into him, into my comfort zone. His fingers close around mine—warm, certain. A realization settles in my chest, both terrifying and surprising me. Tristan is the D’yavol—the devil. But he’s also my angel. That is, if there are tattooed angels with captivating green eyes.