Bible Verse Tattoos On Arm Novels & Stories

They were a vivid, piercing green that seemed to see through my skin. Eucharist. The legend that could pull life back from the grave. My skin glowed, mirroring the green veins throbbing in his neck. A tattoo etched itself into my forearm—a white wolf, burning white-hot. I stared at the symbol, feeling a sting of bitter irony; a mark of the wolf burned into the skin of a girl who had just traded her inner beast for a savior. We floated in that emerald silence before the light died, dropping us hard onto the ferns.

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

Where are you? Voices echo on the wind, multiple people trying to call on his name. He’s running for his life. His tattoos – four stars on each of his arm – a symbol for every life he has ever lived, and will be living. A star for every deity that he’s ever mocked. A star for every partner he will ever love.

"But seriously, did you see his abs? Like, I've seen fit guys before but that was... that was art. That was a sculpture. That was…" "A religious experience," Veronica finished. "And don't even get me started on his arms. The definition, the veins, the way the tattoos seemed to move under those rolled up sleeves." "On his ribs. You could see them when he stretched. Some kind of tribal design going down his side." Veronica fanned herself dramatically. "I wanted to trace them with my tongue." I choked on air.

The Veins and Blood tattoo, like a river of life, traced mesmerizing paths within the knot work, creating a network of labyrinthine patterns. Turning her attention to his right, his muscular arm played host to the Serpentine Coil, slithering with an otherworldly grace. Her eyes followed the serpentine coil with a sense of fascination as it elegantly wound its way across his upper arm, elegantly descending to the forearm.

Sybil said. "Don't mind them" Teal replied, and then the attention of the students moved to another person who just entered the hallway. Roonie and his friends. Roonie got a new tattoo on the lower arm of his right hand, and it's so fuçking sèxy. "el zorro es mio" It's a Spanish sentence which means... THE FOX IS MINE. Pearl's heart skipped one beat when she saw it, but their eyes never met. He's not even looking her side no matter how loud the students are fawning over his tattoo.

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

If I wouldn’t have listened to him, he would have tightened his arm more and I would have ended up with shattered bones. His warmth was heartwarming and it gave me the courage to run my finger along his muscled tattooed arm and I made small circles along the lines of his tattoo. He had this artistic tattoo of a warrior on his forearm, wearing armor and he was looking up at the constellation and that moon that was inked in Romeo’s biceps skin. And I wondered what that tattoo was about.

His outfit was completed with sneakers that matched the colour of his jeans. I could see the ink that covered his right arm. It was from his wrist leading up to the length of his arm and disappearing under the sleeve of his shirt. I could make out some of the images. I saw a rose with a name scribbled on the stem, Jesus Christ with his hands clasped, and some teardrops flowing from his eyes. I never thought about tattoos being sexy, but looking at his, I got an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

Like the weird kind of staring that makes you feel like you have something on your face or something in your teeth. “What are you all staring at?” I query. Rian snaps out of whatever fucking trance he’s in and is by my side looking at me weird too. "Baby, when did you get a tattoo on your arm?" Huh? I look down to see what looks like a tattoo on my right forearm of what looks like a sword covered in vines. It's beautiful and intricately done. "Huh, well it looks like this is the blessing from the Goddesses," I murmur.