Anakin Lightsaber Tattoo Novels & Stories

It was a testament to his unwavering dedication to all aspects of his physical fitness. One of the most striking features on Logan's left arm was the anchor tattoo, a symbol known to represent strength and stability, perhaps even serving as a connection to his time in the marine. Yet, what made this tattoo particularly intriguing was an unexpected addition. Just below the anchor, a smaller, seemingly incongruous tattoo came into view. This tattoo was a depiction of a little girl holding a toy, a charming but puzzling image etched onto his skin. It seemed to tell a story of its own, one that didn't readily align with the symbolism of the anchor.

Avi gasped softly. “We all have things we hide,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. With another shift, the scar vanished. Slowly hesitantly Avi released the illusion covering her own tattoo. The curling design spread across her neck and cheek, etched like living ink. Cain reached out, touching the outer line with care. “Five lines,” he murmured, impressed. “My mate is a very strong sorceress.” She rolled her eyes at him, but he only smiled.

He beckoned me over. I walked to the corpse of the assassin, the one with the poison spear. Drax was holding the rogue's arm up. He had ripped the tattered sleeve away to reveal the forearm. There, branded into the greyish skin, was a tattoo. It was a black circle with a jagged red lightning bolt cutting through it. "I know this mark," Drax said, his voice grim. "It’s the sigil of the Iron Hounds. Malakar’s elite guard from the old wars."

Kia said, he hadn't left yet. “ H-how did you know?” I stuttered. Was he disappointed? Did this bastard Anakin tell him?? Argh! This can't be good. “ Anakin fights in a peculiar manner that is known only by few people. Not to mention that he is the only knight and person that fights with a katana which he passed down to his regiment,” Kia explained. It felt like my hard work had gone to waste now. Maybe I should just apologize and come clean but I didn't really do anything wrong. I mean, I just trained secretly.

“Happy Birthday Ahsoka. Now we are complete and everyone will know you are mine. Come let’s shower.” I follow him to the bathroom and Nico turns on the shower, letting it warm up. I look in the mirror at my mark. It’s a crescent moon with a wolf’s head howling in the middle of it. There are also angel wings coming out on either side of the moon. It looks like a tattoo the size of my palm. Nico comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “All mine,” he whispers, kissing the back of my shoulder.

Mea Dea, my goddess in Latin, despite wanting to spit at him to address me properly, my heart races. “You can call me Queen Aylin,” I force out in a hiss, although his smirk tells me I don’t sound convincing. I break eye contact with him to look him over. He is truly carved to perfection. He’s wearing a tank top, which shows the entire tattoo on his neck. It’s a black and white piece of a phoenix, midflight with its mouth open in a scream, surrounded by fire. The wings extend onto the front and back of his neck in brilliant detail and the fire down to his collarbone. He also has several different pieces down both arms, none of which I bother to look at since I’ve been looking at him for far

Sirius growled. I side-eyed Austin unsure of the guard mark Sirius had mentioned. Seeing the confusion in my eyes, he neared my ear and said, “It's a red line tattoo; put on your inner ankle, and when you complete all the training, it will look like this. He then pulled up his pants leg to show me a small red arrow right above his ankle bone. “The black bow is for mastery, so you don't have to concern yourself with that,” he said firmly, and I huffed.

"Yeah, have it?" Skoteinó chuckled and removed his white smiley mask that revealed the tattoos on his face. The tattoo that attracts Raverine the most is the official insignia of Die Dark — a smiling skull with a bloody fang. The tattoos were all over his dark-toned face. He also had piercings on his nose and lip — a typical look of an outlaw.

"Not everyone looking for me is as careless as Julian Vane. There are people out there who don't understand the concept of 'surrender.'" He approached me, and even though he walked with a slight limp, his presence was still overwhelming. He stopped in front of the stove, and the light from the fire illuminated the tattoos on his back once more. I was mesmerized by one in particular on his left shoulder blade: an ancient shield intertwined with thorns and an iron crown. It didn't look like the design of a common tattoo parlor; it had the symmetry of an official seal, of a coat of arms that demanded respect.

“I don't understand why you won't leave me alone” Without responding to his words, I walked towards him, staring at the tattoo inscription on his upper back that read ‘Incendio’ meaning fire in Spanish. My heart slammed hard against my ribcage at that moment. Only the Anoris had that tattoo inscription on their bodies. While mine was Tierra, his was Incendio—Earth and Fire. My breath came out in ragged gasps. “You…are…an Anori” I stammered out and he froze.