Badass Irish Tattoos Novels & Stories

I really did not want to feel weak ever again. My parents totally thought I was crazy when I decided to get a few tattoos. I had a big one slung over my shoulder that reached down to my bicep—our crew's tribal symbol. I also had another large one on my back and a warrior symbol on my inner bicep, courtesy of Gaspar. But my favorite was a cool tattoo guys get when they find their match. It sat just below my waistband, right in the middle of my stomach. A symbol that looked like this: ∞.

“You got another tattoo??” Em didn’t like the way he said it. Quinn was covered in tattoos. He had a huge wolf on his shoulder, several arrows and symbols all over his arms and chest and neck. He had a huge tattoo on his back that reminded her of their town. It was a lake and a mountain surrounded by trees. She thought it was beautiful, even though she had never seen it up close.

Medyo nanlaki pa ang mga mata ko nang makita ang malaking tattoo niya sa kanang balikat niya. Naku! Pasulyap-sulyap ka kay Irise kanina, e, ayaw niya sa mga kagaya mo, lalo na at lalaki ka! Hindi ka na nga pasado sa gender pa lang, tigwak ka pa sa pamorma. Pero gwapo naman siya. Slight? Ay ewan ko. Basta ayoko sa mga ganitong lalaki para kay Irise! "Ah, talaga?" pasimpleng sabi ko lang, ipinapakitang wala akong pakialam pero hindi naman sa walang respeto ang ekspresyon. "Sige, sabihan ko siya na nandito ka, hehe."

But a voice stopped me. “You’re looking so chic, Iris. Something some people would not be able to combine in a million years to come.” The voice was smooth. It was so smooth that I felt it deep in my spine. Salvatore stood near the window, half-turned. Black linen. opened collar, button undone just to expose skin, and ink. A tattoo traced along his chest, disappearing beneath his shirt like a promise unfinished. The suggestion of it is more distracting than the full views ever are. His forearms were bare, veins pronounced, not from effort, but from presence.

And why do I believe in him so much. "It will be dangerous." Gael looked at the clock, he was still with a cigarette in his mouth, then he stood up. Damn, Gael looks a lot like a gangster member, because he wears a black man suit and a white shirt with the top 3 buttons unbuttoned. Because it shows his tiger tattoo, and since when did he have a tiger tattoo? Even though his original form was a western tiger, but still this was too much for him. In fact, I have no intention of getting a dragon tattoo for the future.

He paused his ministrations on my neck and with one flick he stripped of his tee. "There, touch me." He groaned and I didn't want any further persuasion. My hands glided over his toned chest, running over the dragon tattoo. "Why is this for?" I asked, my fingertips grazing over the fire tattooed on his abdomen. He bit his lip. "It represents power and victory over bad. I had it engraved when I couldn't take any more of my step-mother's false accusations and controlling nature. I was feeling weak and I needed to feel something. I went to a party and got dunk and somehow landed up in a tattoo parlor. He decided to draw this a sign that I am powerful and can rise from ashes." He paused and grin

His pecs, sharp shoulder blades, and overbearing biceps look like a drawing of the perfect specimen of a man. I no longer think he got the body he has from lifting weights in the state pen, or whatever prison he came from—not that I know any ex-cons. Alessio's body looks more like an athlete's. His muscles are too defined to belong to someone who only loves working out. His tattoos are just as captivating. On his left arm is a swirl of roses, perfect for a wedding bouquet. His pec on the same side has the tattoo of the Scarfoni family crest. It's a Viking-style sea dragon with the sword of Myrridin going down the center. Myrridin was their Viking ancestor and one of the twelve founding Knigh

The natural waist dropped into a sheer fabric with flowers stitched into it. The scars have relaxed and really created a pretty chain-link pattern. Although our wolves really worked on healing me, they are just now calming down and looking like regular scars. I have grown accustom to them to the point that I want to get them tattooed. As a symbol of my strength and determination to not let evil win. Soft music was playing as I paced around this tent. The only thing I knew about this event was the smell of lilacs. “Ready?” Colt lifted the side and stepped in.

But the way Knives looked at me, you would think he just won the jackpot. “Sweetheart,” he groaned, his whiskey voice making me shiver in delight. “Your wish is my command...” He stood and, without hesitating, he took off his T-shirt. And for once, I didn’t look away, but instead, I took in everything he had to offer. His tattoos were gorgeous. Most of them were skulls, knives, and motorcycles, but I also liked the angles and the roses. They all melted together and perfectly led from one act to the next, telling the story of a boy who became an MC VP. And of course, the centerpiece was the snarling wolf and the moon, with the name of his club.

she cried out, then whispered something inaudible. She was fifty-nine years old, and still in magnificent shape for that age. From behind (his favorite way of taking her, no great surprise) she could’ve passed easily for a woman half that. He loved the blond streaks running through her dark hair, the beauty mark at one corner of her mouth. Loved her taut dark skin, too—the way those inked black and gray tattoos resembled shiny living shadows rippling upon that velvet skin. Lawrie reached and pulled her hair absently, listening to the squeal as she responded. He knew his wife bore the cross as a proud sign of her Latina heritage, and she also had a dragonfly (of all loopy things) tattooed on