Female Grim Reaper Tattoo Drawing Novels & Stories

"Don't get me wrong, all your tattoos are amazing—but I can stare at those three for hours, I just love looking at them." "Good to know since I drew those as well as the rocket on my right thigh..." Fun fact, her rocket ship one was the tattoo that Green Ranger had a mini version of on her left ribs. "My sister might've changed a few things, but all things considered, those four are still 'my mind vomit.'" "You're brilliant." She grinned. "Hm, you know what? Fuck it, I can have favorites, too. So, yeah, it's a tie between the one on my back, and Scylla and Charybdis."

I reply as i roll off of them and pull them into an embrace, cradling them against my chest as the silvery fae marks tattoo my body in vines and a crown pattern. This mark is like the small tattoo of a werewolf mark, but with silver leafy vines that twist and wind all over the right side of my body. “I am officially yours now and after Raiden marks you, I would love the honor of marking you as mine,” I whisper as I caress their sobbing form and soothe them. “I want to leave as soon as possible to get to Raiden before our babies are born.” “I don’t want to slow you down or hold you back,” they reply. “You won’t,” I soothe, then wipe their eyes once again and kiss them with all the love I feel

Ayira to become a reaper or not I scrunched my mouth and wiggled my cheeks against the hard surface under my face. I blinked my eyes and looked up and my mouth dropped open. I lifted my head and looked down at Grim. God he was beautiful. His black eyelashes were fanned across his high cheekbones. I squinted my eyes. Reapers don't sleep, I remembered. I looked down at his bare chest and swallowed seeing his ink work. Hot damn, he's covered with beautifully done tattoos. I used my index finger to trace one and hear the deep rumble of his laughter building up. I chuckled softly and looked up at his green eyes glowing brightly at me.

My breasts tingle, my hands sizzle with the need to reach out and touch him. I don’t know what he reads on my face but his eyes have gone cold again and his voice is even more intimidating. “Put down the cloth.” I’m no good at following orders, never have been, especially those given by men. I have no idea why the cloth slips from my fingers and lands in the bowl. Dagger leans in and picks it up. His chest is inches from my eyes and his tats fill my vision. The ink appears prison-grade, but the artwork is intricate. A Grim Reaper stands over a crying woman holding a swaddled baby. The design weaves into swirls of flowers with branches that turn to thorns as they flow further out across his c

She had not dared herself to look at Shaine as Sheels backed out, telling her to stand beside her. It’s been over half an hour and the gloominess of the chamber was pressing in on her. There was no window and the deep-orange brick walls were painted with grotesque images that included people writhing in flames, people being tortured to insanity, and, most of all, the reaper with his scythe hanging right on his shoulder, his eyes hidden on his hood, though it felt so much like he’s really staring at her as though he’s not merely a lifeless painting.

My psychic ability must be heightened in this place because I instantly become aware of these three creatures, these… {reapers}. The first is Kera, the Spirit of Vengeance, responsible for conducting everyone who suffered a violent death. She’s a battle maiden in plate armor, with an ebony face and short, curly blonde hair. Exactly the type to bring home to mama except for the fangs, talons and the huge pair of raven wings on her back.

Then she took a good look at his tattoos. Her gaze traced the ink that stretched across his chest, dark and patterned against his golden skin. The tattoo sprawled over his left pectoral, a fierce black wolf, its eyes red and dangerous, as if it could leap off his skin and bare its fangs at her. The details were breathtaking, each strand of fur etched with perfection.

she answered without leaving his eyes on Grip. Her name was Sham. She got wavy long hair, an oval face, fair skin, sparkling round eyes, turned-up nose, and heart-shaped lips. Her cloak was embroidered with silver. I discovered that the rank of the reapers was determined by the color of their cloak’s embroidery and it indicates the years of them being a reaper. Grip got the highest rank and he was the first-ever reaper and he was followed by Sham. I furrowed my brows at her. “What do you mean?”

Peeling the material of the jeans back for her, he captured her hand once more and pressed it against his hip to encourage her to complete her exploration. Riley's face flushed as she realized he wasn't wearing underwear. Her eyes dropped down his body, skittering down the tattoos once more until she reached the blade she'd been trying to discover. It was clutched tightly in the upraised bony hand of a hooded grim reaper. She gasped and her jaw dropped. What were the odds of the man, whose terrifying pursuit had brought them to this moment, having a tattoo of her racing handle? She moved further up on her elbow to better see the artwork. It was both horrifying and beautiful, frightening and

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”