Novel & Cerita Archangel Michael Sword Tattoo

He explained. "What is in there?" An angel asked from the crowd. "Why, a sword of course". He replied. The heavens was silent. "A sword created with the life of God, a sword that gives ultimate power to the wielder, making him or her the most powerful angel in the heavens". Murmurs filled the heavens after that, Carshena and the rest on the floor were extremely shocked. "And you want the sword". Michael stated. Lucifer stared at him with an unusual glare.

This nonchalant behavior, in which Damon got from Levi the Envious, earned the demon prince the wrath of Michael the Loyal. Azure hue of swirling runes surrounded the frowning Michael the Loyal. Instead of forming a pentagram around him, the runes of spells attached to his body like a second skin. The glowing runes of blue and white kissed every nook and cranny of the arch angel’s skin as his cerulean eyes gleamed like the deepest parts of the ocean. A knot lodged deep between Damon’s brows while Apollo Sky’s identical cerulean eyes widened upon seeing the changes of the leader of the arch angels before them.

Walking into the kitchen, I stop and stare as Miguel makes me breakfast, completely oblivious that I'm in the vicinity. He hums along to the music playing, his bare back flexing as he moves from one place to the other, his hair in a bun. My eyes lock on the angel tattoo on his shoulder blade and my thighs clench together.

He pointed to his tattoos as he spoke. 'This is a tribute to Adrian," he said. He pointed at the tattoo that sat on the left side of his body just below his shoulder blade. It was the name Luca with a halo above it with angle wings on either side of it. Underneath it said, 'I am because you were'. "That's beautiful," I mumbled as I stood up and walked closer to him to get a closer look. "This is for Blade." On his arm was a dagger. The blade was cut in half and the word

These eight were the archangels. Archangel Michael, commander of the Legion Michael, angel of War and Power Archangel Raphael, commander of the Legion Raphael, angel of Vitality and Healing Archangel Gabriel, commander of the Legion Gabriel, angel of Messages and Guidance Archangel Uriel, commander of the Legion Uriel, angel of Wisdom and Fire Archangel Raguel, commander of the Legion Raguel, angel of Justice Archangel Sarakiel, commander of the Legion Sarakiel, angel of Peace Archangel Lucifer, commander of the Legion Lucifer and the bright morning star, angel of music and radiance

“Knock yourself out.” I freeze. Breathless. The light catches him from his side, painting golden lines over the muscles of his back. An angel spans from shoulder to shoulder. Not the gentle, glowing kind. This one is fierce with wings shredded at the tips, feathers curling into smoke. One arm grips a sword driven into the earth, the other cradles a bleeding heart. His face is tilted upward, not praying–not begging either. Screaming. Like he’s damned. My lips part in astonishment and my words catch somewhere between my ribs and my throat. For a full minute, I do nothing but gawk at the intricacies of ink beneath ripping muscles.

The sound of wings flapping from above draws my eyes up as I follow the shape of something black and mammoth as it lands only feet away from Dominic and me. I blink several times, pushing the hair from my eyes, as Archangel Michael stands before us, grandiose and stunning. I can't help but stare at his massive, black wings in awe, folding together behind him in glistening highlights of blue. A glow of white and yellow auras outlines his extensive frame as he respectfully nods in the direction of the Seraph Council before returning his attention to us.

I admire the tattoo taking up most of his back, it's similar to Storms. It's a pair of evil snake eyes in red, with a green and yellow snake wrapped around the pistol facing the red eyes of the evil snake. The words The Satan Sniper’s Motorcycle Club are written under the pistol. But what has me at a standstill is the shading that's done around the entire picture, it's a light shading but unmistakable. It's wings, Angel wings. I don't say anything. I want to but I'm tongue tied. I scan his back and stop at the blue bruises around his sides.

Azrael grew a blade from it in a split second. At first a fine mist rose from the palm of his hand and formed the rough outlines before the liquid became hard and sharp like no earthly material. Nothing withstood this weapon. He was the perfect weapon. The dagger blade flickered with an uncanny life of its own and fine waves ran along the surface. Somehow logical that people would mistake him for the Archangel Michael with his flaming sword. Only one thing was bothering it: it wasn't him, not at all.

My gut twisted in a painful knot and my heart throbbed like it has left a few breaths to breathe. My eyes were bleeding, with the same blood as Levi’s. I saw him collapse on the ground right before me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his left hand. ‘ANGEL’ I gasped at the word carved into his skin. It would’ve been better if it was a tattoo but it wasn’t and I kept on looking at the red cloth left in my hand. It seemed like a scar made with a blade, a knife, I don’t know. Why would someone sane do something like this to himself? But then again, he is not sane.