Bible Verse Forearm Tattoos Novels & Stories

“I’m here for a tattoo.” He leaned back, arms folding across his broad chest. The motion made the fabric of his shirt strain. “You? A tattoo?” He laughed, low and cruel. “Let me guess. Tiny heart on your wrist? Or maybe a quote about ‘strength’ in some flowery script so everyone knows how deep you are.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the design. “Lower back. Crescent moon with vines. I have the reference.”

The voice made me remember a verse our pastor used as a sermon in the bible the last time I attended the evening bible study that always takes place every Tuesday. I can recall the verse very well that says, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Take therefore the whole armour of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand, therefore, with your loins girt with truth and your breastplate of righteousness on. And with the preparation of the gospel of peace on your feet;

He won’t know what’s coming for him. “Peace I leave with you,” my voice boomed into the mic, quieting down the whispers going around the hall. I eyed the paper set in front of me and realised that this was my speech. Skimming through it, I decided against it, pushing it aside before meeting the world in the eyes. “My peace I give to you. Not as the world…giveth; give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither…let it be afraid.” I see the pope nodding his head with a smile of his own, no doubt recognising the script. “John 14;27. My mother’s all-time favourite verse in the Bible,” I bring my hand to my chest, right where my heart is. Above the chain tattoo, I’d tattooed the very same

Mark's chanting was passionate and I could hear the conviction in his voice. Still adrenalized from the fight and I'm sure feeling as if he had done the right thing; after all our beliefs were all based on Lex Talionis the law of retaliation, my brother was emanating pure power it all but filled the room. I felt my skin break into goose bumps as he raised his muscular arms higher his hands hooked into claws and continued; "God of our flesh God of our minds God of our innermost will."

Me staring at a naked guy for the second time in my damn life. My breath caught in my throat, trapped. I was trapped. My eyes completely rebelled against my brain's frantic commands to look the fuck away. Instead, they traced the dark, heavy ink of a tattoo etched across his upper shoulder blades. Three words, bold and unyielding: "Built Through Pain." The script wasn't flashy or arrogant. It felt heavy. It looked like a scar turned into art—a quiet testament to something survival-driven. A strange, unbidden ache blossomed in my chest just looking at it.

I bowed my head and exclaimed, “Hail the moon goddess!” No wonder I felt this overwhelming energy next to me. This was the moon goddess! “Hail the moon goddess!” I exclaimed as she moved closer to me with the long burning needle. Not long after I felt a piercing pain in my forearm but I managed to keep from crying my heart out. I opened my eyes and glanced at my forearm that now had the tattooed mark of a Crescent moon. The pain never faded away even as I made eye contact with the moon goddess. “I will grant you one wish, ask!”

The symbols seemed to have extended. In Arerat, the tattoo was a butterfly in my palm and claw prints under it, down to below my wrist. But right now, it was extended down to the back of my elbow, just below my upper arm. The last pair of claw prints that lay in-between the upper arm and the lower arm began to glow warmly. I could feel a soul connection with it. It's the exact feeling I got when Little Wolfy gave me its blood essence from it's glabella to join the contract of beast and beast tamer. It was as if I just...

She opened her eyes and the contractile aperture in the chocolate brown coloured iris of large doleful eyes caught the letters, Luke 11:45 "For there is nothing covered that will not be revealed, nor hidden that will not be known" Sre knew that verse. He'd whispered those same words as he'd run his hard calloused palm down her naked body. Sreya could remember it all. Clearly. Too clearly. She could remember how he'd touch her. Gently drag his hand down her skin in a lover's caress. She could remember the appreciation in his eyes and the tears in hers. She could remember the bible verses he muttered each time he was around her. Each time he was erect. She remembered the way he'd burn his fles

He gazed once again Into the void of night, feeling dwarfed by the events he had put into motion. Five hundred miles away, the albino named Amorth stood over a small basin of water and dabbed the blood from his back, watching the patterns of red spinning in the water. Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean, he prayed, quoting Psalms. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

I kept thinking back to today's little incident, something just felt off, but for the love of me, I can't figure it out. Minutes and minutes later and a low groan vibrated from my chest, annoyed at my tired body that won't just rest and sleep. My back was to Christian, pressed right up against his chest and his arm was under me. I smiled again when I stared at his tattoo and finally understood the word written, but still on the inside of his arm and around the word laid different patterns, intertwined together and covering the real skin underneath.