Badass Irish Tattoos Novels & Stories

“Since the tattoo is a surprise, can you at least tell me where you’ll do it?” “On the lower part of your back.” After a little while, he comes back to me and starts tattooing me. “For having a needle on my skin, I don’t feel any pain.” “That’s because I’m amazing.” After half an hour, he announces that he’s finished. “Already?” I ask, bewildered. James nods, a strange smile on his face. “Look at yourself in the mirror.” I do and am shocked. “James… Why is there a tattoo on my back of you and the nun from The Conjuring hugging each other?”

The last time I saw him without clothes, he had only the Bratva tattoo; the twin stars of a Vor v Zakone on his left chest; stars that marked him as untouchable in the Bratva. But now his entire upper body was covered in ink; Dragons and demons. I know those tattoos. No, it was not the Chinese Triads; this… this was Irezumi, a traditional tattoo style belonging to the Yakuza; the fucking Japanese Mafia. Was that where he had been these past four years? I was stunned. Why would a Bratva Don wear the mark of another syndicate? “There is not enough hot water for two, but we can share,” Nikolai’s voice shook me out of my thoughts.

A woman in the crowd screamed when they saw my tattoos. Celtic symbols were tattooed down my spine with intricate vines weaving in and out of the symbols, the vines weaved and circled the tree of life, which was tattooed on my right ribcage with the symbols for the maiden mother and crone in the roots. I had more tattoos covering my body, but the clothes in this time hid them very well. The men poked at the tattoos and scratched at any marking they could find on my body. “Are you done yet?” I hissed with a warning.

The fiery burn lingered in my throat. "Nothing's wrong with being a gentleman, but pretending to be one just to impress women doesn't make you one." I smirked, taking another swig of whiskey. I surveyed his outfit, taking in every detail. He wore a vivid red shirt left open to showcase a muscular chest inked with a roaring lion whose fiery orange mane seemed to reach beyond his skin. Leonardo. Lion-hearted. That tattoo made perfect sense. A golden cross lay nestled atop the lion's mane, glinting in the light like a beacon of faith. It was clear that Leonardo wore his heart on his sleeve. His was a tattooed visual representation of his inner fire.

Or save her from fucking her way to it. So it appeared that she was to start paying her way on her back with this absolutely massive, broad-shouldered, tattooed, aptly-named wild warrior. Gideon was a large man, but this modern viking put him to serious physical shame; if Gideon’s dick had split her in half in agony, Iris could only imagine what this monster’s cock would do to her. She just hoped that he left her able to walk… and able to fuck the rest of the boys downstairs, because of course they’d be close behind. She knew there would be blood soaking and staining her thighs before things were done, long before they decided that they’d used her up.

Kayleigh lifts her chin as everyone remains silent after her spiel. “Fuck you. You can all go to hell.” A shadow of embarrassment passes across Kinsley’s face. She didn’t waste any time and immediately walks out of the apartment. “You never cease to amaze me, Kayles.” Gisella cups her mouth as she giggles. The luck of the Irish. I knew the Claddagh symbol was the right choice of tattoo. No one knows where and what my tattoo is except me, Kayleigh, and the elder who tattooed it on me.

His mouth was sinful in that lazy, careless way—full lower lip, sharper upper, currently pressed into a line that said nothing and everything all at once. And his eyes. They were not fully human. Too bright. Too intense. A colour that might have been amber in daylight, but here, in the half-dark, seemed to hold embers. No glow, not like the Beast. But the memory of that molten fire echoed in them. Something in their depths moved when he blinked, like banked coals shifting under ash. Her heart stuttered. No. Her gaze snagged on the ink. A swirling tattoo painted his right arm from shoulder to wrist—black sigils twisting over his bicep, winding down his forearm. It didn’t stop there. The marks

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.

I said while fiddling my fingers. "You do not have to thank me. I'd happily eliminate every last one of those cowards from the entire region," he said tightly. I noticed his jaw was set and couldn't help but take in his features. His black hair feathered across his eyebrows and I watched as he ran his hand through it to brush it away from his eyes. His full lips were set in a frown as if he was picturing eliminating the witch hunters in his mind. I also noticed the tattoo that ran from his neck and down to his shoulder. The abstract design framed a triple goddess moon symbol with a dagger that impaled the inner circle. This brought my thoughts back to the night before and Tor's magnificent p

"You can say that to Carson." Carson, I didn't know he was that much of a psychopath if it was Nelson I wouldn't be that surprise but him, the guy who is unbothered and fucking rude. "Other than piercings, do you have tattoos?" I asked and he nodded showing off his back. I know that he has one on his left arm, the drawing is a racing car with his name on it and flames around the car, on his abdomen, there is a drawing of angels wing with a rose on the middle. And finally, on the back, there is a large phoenix with a cursive name on the top.