Badass Forearm Tattoo Novels & Stories

I took my hand back and muttered a sorry. Let him hold her today. I thought. The moon was shinning brilliantly through the curtains of the cloud and the light was falling on Damien's right arm which was completely tattooed. I don't know if he has tattoos on his back and chest but as much I have seen only his right arm is tattooed and his left arm is free of them.

She was upset that I didn't recognize her, and seemed deeply upset when I pushed her arms away and stared at her. Despite the simple black dress, the neckline was deep enough for the tattoo of his capital sin to be quite significant and easy to decipher. In the center of the small trunk was the image of a fat badger with his mouth wide open, where a small man fell into it. Around the animal, crosses, tombstones and flames spiralled over the woman's pale skin. The rest of the drawing was not noticeable enough for me to lose more than a few seconds staring, so I looked away when she also looked.

Each man wore the mark. Different symbols etched into skin: a serpent coiled around a sword on the left forearm of one, twin wolves snarling beneath a bleeding moon on the wrist of another, a skeletal crown on the palm of a third, and a phoenix swallowing its own tail just above the elbow of the last. Each tattoo pulsed faintly, dark and ancient, remnants of an allegiance born of secrecy, ambition, and old blood.

(You act like I can't take care of myself plus I have an assassin with me) "It's still no," he says "I'm going to get ready you better not leave without me," he says and walks upstairs while the guys to the same. "He does realize were going to do that anyway right," Rae says I shrug my shoulders to her and we walk to my car and hop in to get Nova soon we've picked her up and were at the tattoo parlor give the tattoo artist our ideas except Nov. I decide on a rose on my under boob, butterfly's on the bottom of my thumb bone, a sleeve of flowers on my arm, and a heart on my inner wrist. Rae got the same inner heart as me, but she also got an arm sleeve that had a lion with blue eyes and flower

Grace nearly dropped the soap. Scars, large and small, crossed his torso. She'd seen bullet scars before. There were two right next to each other under his left arm. She was so focused on the terrible scars that she barely noticed the black, abstract, curvilinear tattoos on his chest and shoulders. They were fierce, with what looked like stylized talons interwoven with curving, concentric whiplash curves. He was bruised almost black on his right side. More tattoos covered his wrists and elbows in precise, flowing patterns made up of repeating geometric shapes. The burn scar on his left hand was part of a larger burn that marred the tattoo right up to his elbow.

"Y—You actually possess such immense, divine power!" My lips curl into a mocking smirk as the completely shredded remains of my shirt fall away from my upper body, revealing my heavily muscled, bare physique to the entire room. A dark, terrifyingly majestic tattoo of a black dragon with glowing red eyes is coiled tightly across my chest, its primal design incredibly vivid and lifelike against my skin.

Her bewildered gaze trailed over the dark ink stretching across his upper back, eyes filled with awe and astonishment. The intricate design pulsed with power and raw masculinity, it was meant for him. A pair of formidable wings sprawled across his shoulder blades, their sharp edges carved with precision. Between them stood an unwavering sword, a bold declaration of rebellion and his untamed spirit. As soon as she realised what she was doing, guilt pricked her and she looked away. The tattoo was hauntingly beautiful. So dark yet enchanting. She had never seen it before.

A distinct mark on the wrist, a scar, just visible as the sleeve shifted for a brief second. “Pause it,” I whispered, my gaze narrowing. The scar was familiar, too familiar to ignore. My pulse quickened as I racked my brain, searching my memory for anyone in the pack with a mark like that. It was a recent scar, angry and red, as if they’d been injured only weeks ago. Leon was watching me, his expression guarded. “Do you recognize it?”

A man about twenty years old came to a nightclub-Club Delux after completing a mission. The man had tattoos almost all over his body. His head felt hot and was about to burst because of this mission he had to deal with a complicated person. To cool down his head, a man named Alex came to the club to find entertainment—as usual. Alex ordered a drink from the bartender, and just then a woman approached him and flirted with him. "Alex, you didn't come a few days ago, you seem to be very busy," the woman said.

Every curve and line is perfect and accentuated by the glowing energy pulsating beneath my skin as if it were carved from marble by the Goddesses themselves. My right arm has a strange tattoo swirling up it with an odd energy fused into it. The black claws on my hands glisten in the brilliant light of the portal, their sharp points glinting like obsidian knives. As I concentrate, they slowly retract into my fingertips, disappearing from view. With another thought, they shoot out again like deadly daggers, ready for action.