V Devil Trigger Mga Nobela at Kwento

“People call him Devil, no one is born Devil, Life it makes them Devil, No one see the Good in them, No one understand what made them Devil, No one understand every Bad has Good in it, People just need someone to blame for their misery He is both Sun and Moon; he would burn daily to give a better life to his loved one, he stand like a shield in front of them burning the evils around them, He glows not for him but to bring peace in their life, to erase the Darkness around them, He became Devil not for Power, not for blood, Hater is killed with Kindness, Darkness is defeated with Light, He's Devil fighting against all other Devil's safeguarding his loved ones taking all the Darkness inside him

This is forever. “Here lies Lucian D’Argento—devil to the world, but a man who loved enough to conquer death.” [TOPE]

"I see, so..." "So I set up a grand scheme to get you here." Doom said, eyes locked to mine again. "As soon as I got the key… I called Frank and Kelvin here, hoping you would catch on. That you would see them and that you would learn the truth and do exactly what I needed." He smiled. "knowing you, I knew you would be furious and you would want to spite me by breaking the egg and you did, so fucking predictable." A tear slipped down my cheek as the horror of it sank in.

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.

The methods he uses for killing or ‘talking’ aren't jokes. “Trust me. It’s my fucking business,” Devil says, stepping closer. Now they’re nose to nose, well, as close as they can be. The girl barely reaches his shoulders. “And how is that?” she dares him, eyes cool. “He’s my old man,” Devil says. In the corner of my eye, I see Chaos, Devil’s father. As usual, his face gives nothing away. “Ah, that’s fine then,” she says. “I’m Violet. Apparently… you’re my older brother. Steven?”

When I first met that devil, he smirked with those fox eyes, taking pride in holding the hearts of all mortals in his hand. Me? I smile, too. Because I was born with alexithymia, meaning I’m a heartless sociopath that doesn’t feel any emotions. Nice to meet you, Mr. Devil. I grin at him, licking my canine. How are you going to manipulate my heart, when I don’t have one? ------ Chapter 001 The Soul Trial [Thanks for joining the Soul Trial, hero D25M12! Upon your triumph, you will be blessed with a superpower personalized for you!]

Ha‍nnah sta⁠red⁠ a‍t‌ the wall w‍ithout say⁠ing‌ any word. “I won't repeat‍ mys⁠elf,‌ w‌ho sent you?” “Just click it,” s⁠he spat out. “Fine.” The sou‍n⁠d of the gun ec‌hoed through the room and she collapsed. The sound jumped int‍o my chest, and m⁠y‍ body sud‍denly moved. I hit my hand over m⁠y mouth to hold back a scream‌. My elbow suddenly hit a metal mop that ‍ leaned ag‌ainst‌ the crates.

I whisper in fear. Tsking, and biting his lip, he shakes his head. “Oh, no. Don’t think of it like that,” he says sweetly, his nefarious smile shifting to sweet and beautiful. “I’m just a fragment of dust of what you may term as the devil. So small and useless until I’m given instructions by my boss. In this case, Mr. Memphis, otherwise known as Devlin, and the water of power he pours to me in form of instructions, stirs my little particles into a pile of mud and I get my power from him. But for now, I’m nothing more than a human just like you and everyone else in your little world.”

She was trembling on the bed and wriggling beneath him. He bit on her collarbone harshly. He didn't stop until her skin bleed. He huskily whispered, "You truly identify me. I'm the Devil. This is the trailer. You still have time to escape." Aaron got up rapidly and warned, "Just get out of my life." "Just get out of my life," Aaron

“Too late. You already tried your luck with me.” I looked into his eyes—desperation, fear, and something pitifully like regret swimming beneath the surface. “You wanted to know why they call me the Mafia Devil,” I said, voice dr,opping to a whisper thick with menace. His nod was frantic. I smiled—a slow, cruel curve. “Do you get it now?” His eyes widened just before the cold barrel of my gun pressed against his temple. “I don’t do mercy,” I muttered. The shot echoed, final and unforgiving.