Anakin Lightsaber Tattoo Novels & Stories

Turning off the faucet, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist. Taking a deep breath, I gaze at my reflection in the mirror and run a hand across my jaw. The light of the bathroom casts shadows over my shoulders as if spotlighting my tattoos. Like some Confradia Assassins, I have a tattoo that represents my status in the organization. Mine is a human male’s face hidden in the shadows, half of the face is complete with the crimson light of vengeance in one eye and the other half is the skeletal face of the male with an empty eye socket.

It took us so long to get her back, I was dreading losing her, but I wouldn’t keep her in the dark about it. Walk into the room and see Joker with a new tattoo on his forearm; it appears to be a symbol and a pattern of something ancient. Something you would think a warrior would choose for himself for protection. All of his tattoos made no sense to anyone but Joker. I doubt anyone would be brave enough to question him. Glancing over at Queenie, I see her left forearm has black lace starting to connect the empty spaces to complete her sleeve. It looked so real, like you could pick it up off her skin.

he mused, "my heart beats fast too." Mona let out a breathy laugh. This man was dangerous. Her gaze dropped to his arms again, where his tattoos stretched up to his neck. She hesitated, then—without thinking—she reached out, fingertips grazing a tattoo that looked like an old, intricate map. Kane inhaled sharply. His entire body went rigid. Mona didn't notice. She was too busy tracing the lines, too busy being mesmerized by how warm his skin was. Until he moved. A sudden shift. A slow, deliberate stand.

I whisper more towards myself. The tattoo is of no ordinary design. The intricate details almost seem inhumanly made. Swirls of dusty-grey storm clouds surround a midnight-blue sword. They begin at the handles and spiral throughout the golden blade. Behind the sword lays black and blue tip wings. Each feather tip is like a tempestuous addiction. The closer I come, I want to touch it. Visions of the wings wrapping around me, never allowing me to escape, consume my thoughts. I look up at Raquel and shiver, not understanding how a tattoo could be so powerful.

sagot ni Nena at nagpatuloy sa pagbibigay ng kaaliwan. Sa ilalim ng dim na ilaw ng isang tattoo parlour sa eskinita, umupo si Xandro Chavit sa upuan matapos magpagupit, iniisa-isa ang mga disenyo ng tattoo nang may nakapokus na kalmadong anyo. Huminto siya sa isang dragon na nakapulupot sa apoy, perpekto para sa kanyang likod, saka tinapik ang isang phoenix para sa kanyang kaliwang braso. "Pareho," utos niya, kalmado at matatag ang boses.

Something about the adrenalin of the tattoo gun I guess. I did get a tattoo added for Roxie in the end. It took me a while to think about what I wanted but in the end I had a twisting, mixed up lightning bolt. Not a cheesy, pointy outline, but the crackling, thin shards that splinter across a dark sky. It is on the side of my ribs, surrounded by the constellations of the Fyrestone compound.

I hoped I didn’t need any clothes, since marking usually involves being naked and I liked getting fucking naked with April. Fox took off, following that sweat ass scent of April. She smelled like a type of baby Vaseline. I know it’s fucking weird, but I love that smell. It reminds me of getting a tattoo, I used to rub it on my tattoo’s to make them heal better. Didn’t need it anymorw though, because I got two new ones last week and I healed in a fucking day. One was a tattoo of Princes Leia in a cartoon style. For my own princess. And then I got Leia’s and Oliver’s birthday’s on my arm. I didn’t have much fucking skin left.

The revelation about the masked man having a dragon tattoo had struck a chord within him, sending his thoughts spiraling. A surge of memories flooded his mind, memories he had tried to bury deep within his consciousness. The image of a fierce dragon tattoo, its intricate design etched upon a powerful Lycan King's arm, resurfaced in his thoughts. Xander knew all too well the significance of such a mark. It was a symbol of authority, a mark reserved for those who held immense power within the Lycan community.

He turns to the bartender who came over as soon as he saw us "Get her some girly shit. Light. I'll take whiskey on the rocks" "Hey" "You're not getting drunk on my watch" I'm about to protest when he shows me the tattoo between his index and middle finger. He's trying to distract me but I'll fall for it because I'm curious "It's our tattoo. Only high-ranking members get it. Your father, Angelo, us, and a few guys have it"