Death Moth Throat Tattoo Novels & Stories

The only word that came to mind was drool worthy. My eyes were drawn to the tattoos that littered his body. The ones that lined his chest and ribs caught my attention and I badly wanted to know what they were. My fingers twitched at my sides wanting to go over there and run them across the tattoos. He threw his shirt off to the side and turned fully towards me. I couldn't stop myself from asking. "What are your tattoos of?" "Oh these." He glanced down at the ones on his chest. "This one," He pointed to the symbol on his left peck. "is the Marine's symbol. And this says 'Move mountains or die trying'." He touched the quote that was on his ribs.

It's a purple strapless double head vibrating dildo. I heard Hecate chuckle a little. "I miss seeing you blush my love." Hecate said, then crawled on top of me. Hecate captured my lips into a searing kiss. Then Hecate pulled herself up, kneeling between my parted thighs. I can see her beautiful slender body, my eyes roamed her body. Then as my eyes roamed her body, I can see a tattoo on her ribcage. A tattoo of my name. My name is spelled in Greek.

he said as he stared at the burning building with the kidnappers inside screaming in pain. “Grim reaper?” confusion was on my face. He shook his head, “Non, I am Doom and I bring death to people.” “What do you mean?” I asked with confusion. He replied with a cold voice, “It doesn’t matter. You will forget about me anyway.” “I won’t… You saved me. I owe you my life,” I murmured. “You will, I will make you,” he softly mumbled as he slowly snapped his finger in front of me.

Now, the fourth rule in the contract makes sense. "Age: 19 y-year old." All the sins he committed I see as if it were my memory. From being a bitch daughter to a party girl, a drug user and a murderer. Damn this is too much! "Cause of death: Karmic Death." I almost fell because of that, fortunately, someone supported me. When I looked at it. It was Saint, the badass grim reaper is here. "Tss! Stop cursing me, continue that. Otherwise, she will escape and add to the list of Lost Souls." I did not even understand what she was saying but I continued. It has to end because my head will surely explode if not.

She blushed as she rubbed his chest. He had the tattoo of skulls, like a cemetery on his body and a cross tattoo that had a snake wrapped around it with its tongue out. “Okay, enough of all these adoration. Do you remember we have to dispose him before he wakes up??” I snapped her out of whatever imaginations she was currently harbouring.

Theo threw a piece of the shirt at her. It wasn’t particularly her shirt, she sensed. Running her fingers over the silk, she could feel it. Bringing it closer to her eyes, she realized it was a black shirt. “Wear it,” Theo muttered, reaching for a leather electric shock collar. He sighed, watching her as she pulled on the shirt. He walked toward her and pulled her neck close. Fastening the collar around her neck, he said, “Drake has a dragon tattoo on the left side of his neck. Short curly hair. Black-framed specs. Dark brown eyes.”

"Can you see this, below my left shoulder? This is a picture of my younger brother Nathan who died a year ago. How old? He was eight months old, and died of 'crib death.' What is crib death? That's what the doctor said and I don't know what it means. It's like when a baby suddenly dies for no reason while inside a crib. Look at his plump face and silver teardrops. I used to look at him in his little crib while sleeping and always wondered: 'do babies dream?' I wanted to know… See this here right below Nathan's face? It's a coiled serpent, you know, like in the Garden of Eden; tempting Adam to take a bite of the apple from the Tree of Knowledge. Beware the snake's temptation Zeke. There is al

It was clearly a sore subject. His breath was deep now, his chest rising and falling slowly. Kate’s eyes traveled to his chest tattoo; a black and grey skull with a snake constricting it covering the majority of his left pectoral muscle. It continued across his shoulder and down his left bicep. She wondered if it had any significance, deciding to ask him when he awoke.

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to