American Traditional Reaper Tattoo の小説・ストーリー

The result was flawless. After I finished, I sat in the corner and watched with interest as Hector took his turn. He had decided to finish the sleeve on his right arm, while Jonathan had chosen to tattoo his shoulder in a tribal Maori design. The two deeply respected Maori culture and were thrilled to get traditional Maori tattoos. Jonathan's tattoo symbolized resilience, while Hector's represented strength and courage. After a few hours, we finished and returned to the pack house. When we pulled up, a few guards stood by the front door. After getting out of the car, one of them stepped towards us before we had the chance to walk up the stairs.

“Watch what a good little Crown breeder you are. Taking my cock like you were born for it.” I tried to close my eyes, but he tightened his grip on my throat in warning. “Eyes open, sow.” I stared at our reflection through my tear-blurred eyes. My face was both flushed and tear-streaked. I looked like a true whore Between my spread legs, his thick cock kept disappearing into my stretched pussy. Reaper leaned over me His mouth found my neck again, sucking another dark hickey right over the first one. This made me cry out. He bit down marking me deeper, then he moved to my collarbone. Reaper was practically leaving more bruises that would be impossible to hide tomorrow.

The next morning, Rea woke up. She had forgotten everything that happened yesterday. She went to the tattoo studio and got three tattoos for three customers as Gia. Or the action of dropping the motorbike and leaving it lying in front of the house fence as Uri. Immediately opened her laptop to read the other personality's diary. Smiling to herself seeing Uri's annoyance there. Of course she already knew about the tiger tattoo and had threatened Gia not to get another tattoo. Not too surprised anyway it's not the first time because Gia has made several tattoos before. Image of a girl wearing a mask that is on her right chest. Also the name of Rea's parents on his left arm, Wulanestu. Rey coul

a rogue faction of the original tribe who had rejected the resonance ten thousand years ago to embrace the vacuum of the deep reach. The Reapers were a terrifying inversion of the Silver Crest evolution. Their skin was a dull, matte black that seemed to suck the light out of the binary suns, and their eyes were pits of absolute white, devoid of the gold ring of the healer or the silver flash of the king. They didn't carry staves of light; they carried "Abyssal Scythes," jagged weapons of void-steel that hummed with a frequency designed to drain the resonance from any living thing. "The harvest is here," the lead Reaper hissed, his voice a discordant harmony that vibrated painfully in our mar

he said, voice low, filled with something that sounded like sorrow—and rage. Light exploded around us and the tomb trembled as if the world itself recoiled and as darkness swallowed me, I heard it, his heartbeat, steady and ancient, thudding in perfect time with mine. That was the night the Reaper woke.

Not yet. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling. What if another reaper has her tonight? No, I told myself again. I shouldn’t interfere… But even as I said it, my body moved on its own. My hands reached for the car keys, my feet moved toward the door. Moments later, I found myself behind the wheel, heading back toward that bar like a man chasing a storm. As I pulled up, my suspicion was confirmed. Another reaper was already there—tall, cloaked, and walking toward the entrance with purpose.

Reaper's the big black guy isn't he? Clara smiled. "You guessed it. Doesn't surprise you, does it? Reaper got brought over about eight years ago. He was in special forces in the army, but one of those sub-organizations that doesn't technically or legally exist. He's the best sniper that I've ever seen, and he's scary and dangerous. He's a real bonus to Shane, and he's the loyal sort. Get on his good side, and you've got a very lethal friend for life. Cross him --" "I think I get the idea," Shamira said.

Before proceeding to slap a hand on Reigh’s shoulder when the artist stepped back for an ink refill. Reigh grunted in pain, “Dick.” And Taide laughed. The artist returned and I leaned closer to see the tattoo, my amazement made my eyes go wide—the half-drawn art of deep black angel wings covered the upper side of his back. I grimaced as the needle came down on his skin, drawing blood. “Is the needle made of silver?” I asked. The tattoo artist, Taide, and Reigh said “Yes. ” At the same time, and I physically winced.

Elara’s POV “It might be a bright idea for you to step out of the shadows,” I said calmly. A few seconds passed before a man materialized inside the room. His face was covered with a mask. He lifted his arm and showed me a tattoo etched into the back of his palm. “Reaper. I have come to take your life,” he growled. The Reapers. One of the greatest assassin guilds in the country. “Do you have any idea where you are? This is Caelthorn territory.”

As expected they were as blank as his face. “You need the mark of the reaper to be able to travel through the space of the living and of the dead. The marking involves painting symbols on your skin with something called a rune. It will hurt so I need to hold you down ahead of time.” I felt a sudden tightness in my chest. The deeper I went into this, the uglier it got. I could hear my conscience screaming from the smoldering pain of the guilt of my choices but there's no going back is there?