Chainsaw Man Power Tattoo Novels & Stories

A wolf head soaked with blood, it's once white fur stained with the red liquid as a few drops fell from it leaving a pool just underneath it. I had seen that tattoo a few times when Jax came home with a file of warriors, they looked so fierce and powerful and had the exact drawing of the tattoo on her neck, arms or anywhere visible. Does that mean, this man…? I gasped, raising my hand to my lips as I swallowed the fear that constricted my throat as the room suddenly filled with an aura, a powerful, deadly aura that could only radiate off someone very powerful. And it was coming from him?

She was upset that I didn't recognize her, and seemed deeply upset when I pushed her arms away and stared at her. Despite the simple black dress, the neckline was deep enough for the tattoo of his capital sin to be quite significant and easy to decipher. In the center of the small trunk was the image of a fat badger with his mouth wide open, where a small man fell into it. Around the animal, crosses, tombstones and flames spiralled over the woman's pale skin. The rest of the drawing was not noticeable enough for me to lose more than a few seconds staring, so I looked away when she also looked.

Grace nearly dropped the soap. Scars, large and small, crossed his torso. She'd seen bullet scars before. There were two right next to each other under his left arm. She was so focused on the terrible scars that she barely noticed the black, abstract, curvilinear tattoos on his chest and shoulders. They were fierce, with what looked like stylized talons interwoven with curving, concentric whiplash curves. He was bruised almost black on his right side. More tattoos covered his wrists and elbows in precise, flowing patterns made up of repeating geometric shapes. The burn scar on his left hand was part of a larger burn that marred the tattoo right up to his elbow.

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.

Just as I stood, the door creaked open. It was Damon. He was shirtless, his tanned skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat that made his muscles ripple with every movement. As he turned to close the door, the morning light pouring through the window caught the ink on his skin. I finally saw it clearly, the tattoo that dominated his back. It was a masterpiece of ferocity: a massive, snarling wolf with its fangs bared in an eternal roar. It covered the entirety of his broad back, the intricate black ink making the creature look as though it might leap off his skin at any moment.

Cassandra's POV “Tell me what you think,” Chris held his breath as my fingers moved to touch the tattoo on his back. Oh God, I've seen this tattoo so many times, but in this messed up state, I'm saying that I want to see it. “You... when did you get this tattoo?” I stared at the bird's eye on his back—the eagle and the snake. Chris had a tattoo of an eagle wrapped around a snake, so the two seemed to be competing to outdo each other. From a distance, I hadn't really noticed that there was a snake in this tattoo, but it turned out that the snake clutching the eagle looked very real when approached.