Chinese Dragon Forearm Tattoo Novels & Stories

He pushed further out of the water to reveal his tattooed torso and I swallowed thickly. My face went bright red as I traced it with my eyes. His tattoos were impossible to ignore. A dragon stretched across his chest, its head bold and fierce, like it was guarding something beneath his skin. The body of it coiled down his abs, each curve following the lines of muscle like it belonged there. Dark ink wrapped around his sides and arms, a mix of sharp designs and shadowy shapes I couldn’t quite make out, but it didn’t matter. It was hot. Dangerous. Like every mark on him told a story he’d never say out loud. And for some reason, I wanted to read every single one with my fingers.

Appearance may not have changed, but internally matured. The multitude of innocent lives saved earned the respect of all ministers without exception. Here, no one was afraid of me and shunned. One day the head monk suggested getting a dragon tattoo. In China, this symbol has the meaning of a good start. He considered me worthy to wear it, although in their country, wearing a dragon-shaped garment by a commoner was punishable by death. I didn't understand why I deserved such high recognition. - Don't doubt yourself. - the monk once said. - The fame of your exploits spread throughout the Celestial Empire. You are pure before the gods, there is no innocent blood on your hands.

The kind of room that had no purpose and therefore no softness. Draco was on the far side of it. I registered him in pieces, the way you registered things when your body was already reacting before your mind had fully caught up. The shirt on the floor somewhere behind him. The shirtless back turned toward me broad and defined and covered, across the left shoulder and down the spine, with a tattoo that was not decorative. A dragon, rendered in black ink so detailed and so large that for a moment I simply looked at it the scales, the wingspan, the specific quality of something that had been inked not as art but as record. A testimony. This happened to me and I survived it and here is the mark

Dragon starts rolling up his sleeves, revealing faded Calavera tattoos, “Chain’s fine. Got a tension tool in my box. I’ll fix it antes de que (before) sundown.” Poking at the rusted exhaust, “Pfft. Tool ain’t magic, kid. And this exhaust? Sounds like a dying chupacabra.” Dru stifles a laugh. I shoot her a glare, but I'm trying to hide my own smirk with my beard. Dragon shakes his head, then glances up towards Dru on the porch, “¿En serio (Seriously) You think I’d let her hurt? I seen what happens when you don’t guard your crew.” Dragon rolls up his sleeve further, revealing a tattooed date—“2003–2019”—inked beneath the Calavera’s hollow eyes. The numbers curl like smoke from a prayer candle,

His face contorted with rage as he mumbled, "This isn't over! Dylan and Andrew, I'll make sure you both pay for this!" The next morning dawned bright and clear. Andrew was practicing martial arts in a courtyard atop Moonlit Sanctuary, with his upper body bare. His tall, lean frame displayed perfectly proportioned muscles across his chest, arms, and abdomen. An intricately detailed black dragon head tattoo sprawled across his chest, fierce and majestic. Unlike typical tattoos, this one was a deep, vivid black with blood-red eyes. Any expert would have been shocked to see it, as this particular design represented one of the most powerful families in Holtriens.

Much like the man himself! Asides from the writing the tattoo looks like Something older, darker, heavier than anything I’ve ever seen. It snakes across his chest in a pattern that feels… almost alive. There’s a drawing of a serpent or is it a dragon?, its body curling and twisting in a perfect ouroboros on the left side of his torso, scales etched so finely I swear I could almost feel them under my fingertips. His heart beats beneath it, steady, slow, eternal, and it’s like the tattoo moves with him, shifting slightly as he exhales.

’ Alex thought. Without seeing it personally, no one would believe that this dragon was a beautiful, fair maiden just a moment ago… Although Alex possessed thirty-six dragon bone swords, this was the first time he was looking at a living dragon. It left him completely baffled. After circling around Alex, Neela turned into a ray of light and entered his body. Alex was shocked. He quickly took off his shirt. Later, he noticed that a dragon tattoo had appeared on his back. It extended from his waist to his shoulders.

He grinned. Before anyone could contemplate what was about to happen, a deep roar shook the earth. Sending all of them backwards. Slamming them into trees. A black giant dragon suddenly and slowly emerged from the other side of the forest. Approaching the scene stealthily. Its rough skin was dark as obsidian and long claws which could cut through steel. Its eyes burn brightly like hot coals and an earth shattering roar left its mouth, its razor sharp talons which could tear through anything. The sight of the dragon sent tremors through the men and they retreat carefully.

Kaen says as he takes my left hand into his and pulls it closer to him while lifting my sleeves. " It's in your nature and you'll be soaring in no time. " Kaen says as his left-hand moves away from my wrist revealing a black leather cuff with a dragon that had its wings opened wide while seated in a majestic manner carved into it with a silver filling. He then placed his right wrist next to mine, showing his mental cuff with a pouncing cheetah carved into it with a gold filling. What I felt at that moment couldn't be put into words as I fell speechless at that sight. Kaen grins at my expression before resting his head on my shoulder.

She gasped. A massive dark blue tattoo between his shoulder blades caught her eye. A dragon. Its wings were spread wide, the clawed tips arching over his shoulder blades, and it seemed to move when he moved his muscles. It was not unlike the dragons stitched on the dressing gown she wore. He must have an obsession with dragons. It was a bit odd, but who was she to talk when it came to obsessions? She loved old stones, and not because they were old or because they were sparkly or valuable, but because they were something pure and amazing that the earth had created.