Ffxv Tattoo Novels & Stories

“Yannick saw the kids born from those women as assets. The boys would go on to become his boeviki, and the girls … Well, we had other uses.” We? Did she just say we? My eyes widen as I hold my breath. She straightens up, advancing on me with purpose. I start to stand, but she’s faster. She kneels in front of me, ripping open her jacket and shirt to expose the skin on her right shoulder. Pressed into it is a tattoo of a fox sitting on its haunches. Its black body is surrounded by thick, detailed chains. One look, and I can tell that the tattoo has been there for a long time.

~~~Next morning~~~ It was a few minutes past 5 am when Xavier walked out of his bathroom with a black towel wrapped around his lean waist. The droplets of water glistened on his well-toned muscles as the water slid down his sculpted torso, disappearing into the V-shaped waistline of his body. There was an intricate crown tattoo on his chest with a bullet wound below it, a stark reminder of danger and survival. The contrast between the beauty of the tattoo and the harshness of the injury created a compelling image, drawing in one's curiosity to unravel the deeper meaning behind this poignant juxtaposition.

Hatch, who came every Tuesday with three garbage bags of laundry and always fell asleep in the plastic chair had one eye open. "Fine," Sera said. "Muscle cramp." He closed his eye again. She waited until his breathing went slow and even. Then she pulled the collar of her long-sleeve shirt aside and looked. The mark was already there. Fully formed, like it had always been under her skin and the burning had just been it waking up. A rune … angular at the edges but curved at the center, like all the others. It sat directly below her collarbone and glowed faintly silver in the bad fluorescent light.

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.

Katherine pov For me, the sexiest spot a tattoo can be found is on a man’s rib and of course his fingers. I’ve heard a number of time how painful getting one on those spots can be, maybe that’s why I find it sexy. But is that why I can’t tear my eyes off this hot dude across this counter as well?

Still, the admiration in his voice, that respect, was totally unexpected and caught her off guard. “Take my blood. You are very pale. I can feel your hunger beating at me.” She was so used to being hungry she barely noticed anymore if she’d gone weeks without blood. He pressed the back of her head very gently, urging her face toward his bare chest. She transferred her gaze there. He had a thick chest, with heavy, defined muscles. He wore ancient ink, the kind etched into his skin. It was difficult to tattoo an ancient. Ink didn’t stay. They rarely scarred. Fero had ink pressed into scarring on his chest, arms, shoulders and, she was certain, his back.