Whispering Devil Tattoo Novels & Stories

The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!" He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…" He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.

A devil with no right to have a heart only if he knew he has the purest one. "Did they change you to become this?" I asked. He turned his attention to look at me, "Like what?" "Devil," "If I'm Devil then you are the Devil's Girlfriend?" And of course, I was speechless. "I..I," I stuttered. "Are you blushing Miss Vitalio by any chance?" And shit yes I was. His words affected my face. "No, why would I?" I lied looking away. "I wish your face would have told the same story," His face had a smirk and I felt like running from my spot.

The man informed to his boss right on the time. The man on the other side just let out a chuckle which didn't fail to give chills to the people beside him. It was scary, his laugh! It was more scary than a viper. No wonder they call him HADES!, The Devil. "Hmm, she's missing? Right when I'm finding her, Interesting! Very interesting!" his smirk widened as he leaned against his chair majestically after hanging up the phone. "Please, Spare me. I'm sorry I wouldn't try to spy on you again. I wouldn't even live in this country anymore. Please I beg you."

There it was—a tattoo just above his dick. The tattoo was impossible to miss—dark wings of the devil, flames licking at the edges. It sat just above where his cock must be. The image burned into my mind, impossible to forget, as I let my gaze wander over the rest of him. Every inch of his body was carved from muscle, sharp lines and hard planes that seemed to radiate heat. “Oh, you want the play-by-play? Alright, let’s indulge your little nightmare scenario,” he said, the dark amusement riddled in his blue eyes as my eyes shot back to his face.

I clenched my jaw, gritting out the first words that came to mind, "Who the fuck are you?" He grinned, "I'm known by many names, Lucifer was the name the creator bestowed upon me. The Devil is what mortals know me as or Satan. Some call me a serpent that's why that snake imprinted itself onto your arm." Pausing, he gave the tattoo a once over, "It suits you." "FUCK YOU!"

He put the boxers back in his closest. He walked back. His all tattoos were visible. The first time his upper half was revealing the one tattoo that was stretched along his neck. The ink on his neck was a snake circling his neck like a permanent choker, the pattern looked like a compressed font of Devil with its scary fangs looking like they are permanently feeding on his blood. He also has many tattoos on his arm making a sleeve like an illusion on his right arm and also covering a little part of his chest.

" Royalty, don't touch me. Wait! Zeus! Have I told you how much I love you? " " Mercury loves you. I love you. Wait! " He was thrown on the bed. " Don't tickle me_ Help me! Royalty!! " In the end, Mercury had been the one drawing the tattoo. He had also chosen the little bird for the big devil because they were_ friends. A friend he had loved very much. A cold chuckle eluded Mercury's lips, and he looked away from the devil's scared eyes. He wasn't his friend anymore. He was his shadow.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

“You are reckless. You are brave. And that will either save you or destroy you.” Aria felt her throat tighten. “And you? You are the Devil they all fear. What will destroy you?” For a brief moment, his eyes softened, and a shadow of vulnerability crossed his sharp features. “You,” he admitted, almost in a whisper, as if saying it aloud might shatter the walls he had built around himself.

“Now the real war begins. But I would do it again. A thousand times. For you.” Adrian pressed closer, safe in the arms of the man who had risked everything. The devil had publicly chosen his weakness. And the world would burn because of it.