Bleach Anime Tattoos Novels & Stories

Before the SATs, everyone had filled in their dream colleges they'd like to apply to. Now that the results were out, my boyfriend, Sheldon Miller, and many of my classmates had successfully gotten into Astraeus University, which happens to be their dream university. In order to celebrate the success, Sheldon's childhood friend, Winnie Frost, decided to invite Sheldon and the classmates over to the tattoo parlor her family ran for celebratory tattoos. I grabbed Sheldon's hand and reminded him that students in aviation majors weren't allowed to have tattoos of their own, only to get slapped by him instead. The classmates around me even started mocking me relentlessly. "Just how shameless are you, Cassandra? Sheldon and Winnie are the actual childhood friends here! You don't want him to get a tattoo at her family's parlor out of jealousy, right?" I was so pissed that I could feel a headache coming. For the sake of Sheldon's future, I forcibly dragged him away. But what I didn't expect was that Winnie would secretly carry two barrels of gas to my residence. Just like that, she set my residence ablaze. That fire ended up killing my parents and me. Sheldon and our classmates even forged Winnie's alibi just so they could wash her off the police's suspicion. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Sheldon is about to walk into Winnie's tattoo parlor. Sheldon shakes my hand off ruthlessly and begins berating me angrily. "Aren't you just being jealous because Winnie and I are close to each other? I'll have you know that not only do I want to get a tattoo with Winnie, but I also want to have her name tattooed on my body!" This time, I just flash a wide smile at him. "Go on, then. You'd better have her name tattooed on an obvious spot."

"A woman like you? No fucking way you're a virgin." "Who said virgins can't be filthy, Rocco?" DIANA SANTORO: Five years locked inside a convent. Not because I was holy. Because the family I was born into is dangerous. My name is Diana Santoro. Mafia blood. And in this world, daughters like me get hidden away until the war is over. Now my brother’s the Don. And he wants me back. The man he sent to collect me? Rocco Moretti. The most feared monster in Italy. The devil of Cosa Nostra. They say he pulls confessions out of men with his bare hands—then sleeps like a baby afterward. Three days on the road. Just us. He’s expecting some scared little nun-in-training, ready to be escorted quietly back to my gilded cage. He has no idea that the only innocent thing about me is this face. **** ROCCO MORETTI: Forty-seven men. That's how many I've killed. Tortured more than double that. Never lost a minute of sleep over any of them. So why does this girl—with her innocent eyes and that smart mouth—make me feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind around every bend of this road? Last night, at some roadside motel, she walked into my room. Ran her fingers over my tattoos, looked up at me with this smirk, and told me she wasn't wearing underwear. What the hell does she want? To destroy me? To see how far she can push before I snap? She's a virgin. Untouched. Off-limits. The one thing a man like me can never have. But when she looks at me like that—wearing that short dress, lips parted just enough—I forget who I am. I forget I'm the monster. And I start wanting, with everything in me, to be the one who ruins her. Even if it costs me my life. Even if it costs me everything.

On the day I was supposed to get matching tattoos with Zach Cross, I waited at the studio from sunrise until nightfall. The tattoo artist glanced at me nervously. “Miss Annie, is the Godfather still coming? Maybe we should reschedule.” I lowered my eyes and forced a smile. “He promised he’d be here. I’ll wait a little longer.” Two hours later, Zach finally arrived. He was not alone. Julie Williams walked in behind him. She was carrying his jacket. When she saw me sitting in the tattoo chair, she offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Annie. I had no idea you two had a tattoo appointment today. Otherwise, I would’ve never asked Zach to pick me up from the airport.” Zach walked right past me. He glanced around the empty studio and said, “Let's begin.” Before I could say a word, he pointed at the tattoo chair and turned to Julie. “You first.” Julie froze for a second. She glanced at me, then reluctantly took the seat. The tattoo artist turned to look at me. Standing off to the side, I overheard Zach’s men whispering among themselves. “After all these years, Miss Julie is still the perfect match for the Godfather.” “Yeah. It’s a shame things didn’t work out back then.” I looked at Zach. I knew he had heard every word. However, instead of denying it, he turned to me and said coldly, “Julie’s here today. Watch your attitude. Don’t embarrass me.” My gaze drifted to his left hand’s ring finger. It was still bare. He once told me he would hide my name inside the petals of a rose tattoo—a secret only the two of us would ever know about. I worked with the tattoo artist through seven different revisions to get the design just right. When he proposed, he held my hand and said, “The most painful mark I’ll ever wear will belong to you alone.” I put on a bitter smile. Unfortunately, none of the marks he carried had ever truly belonged to me.