Forearm Angel Of Death Tattoo Novels & Stories

he asked, his voice low and tender. I nodded slowly, a small smile breaking through. He swung his legs over the bed, and grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head. I stared at the tattoo covering his entire back. It was a dark angel with black wings, and a female angel with brilliant white wings enveloped the dark angel in a gesture of comfort. Around them, deep red and black roses were intertwined. It was like it was telling a story to bridge the chasm between light and darkness. My eyes were glued to the way he moved his body. The muscles in his back bunched together, and his biceps jerked when he pulled his hand back to rub his neck. He cracked it side to side.

Here I thought his tattoos were only on his hands but turns out it wasn't only them. His back was full of tattoos but one caught my attention in particular, it looked like an Angel that's on its knees, the wings looked broken and above it were two hands, holding one another tightly with the word brother written underneath them and above the Angel… the fallen angel. Ray loved his brothers more than I could ever imagine, to the point where he tattooed his own body with a constant reminder of it. Something I could never have unless it's Malia we are talking about. Alana, focus.

But where do I even start? “Lilly, right? The Gold Child of Winterfall.” A shiver runs down my spine before I even turn around. I know that voice. I don’t need to see him to feel him. My body reacts before my brain can catch up, and I hate how good it feels. Like I was waiting for him. Expecting him. I slowly turn, and there he is. The Angel of Death himself. The dried blood clings to him like a second skin, outlining every solid ridge of his muscles. His tattoos shift slightly with each breath, like living ink. And those eyes—dark, dangerous, like the edge of a storm and very blue.

From the path ahead, his eyes got settled on the tattoo etched on his right backhand glowing at his fullest indicating that the power coursing in his veins got activated and showed up to beat the curse of death that the forest is known for. It was a blue colored tattoo of the growling wolf, showing off his fangs whose eyes revealed the cut-throat rage that was buried in them. Inside the blue outlined growling werewolf was a human skeleton head and the upper body that glowed golden in color. On the inner border of the blue colored outline of the wolf, something was written in capital format inked in red color. The capital words spelled RED RIVER. All the three elements, the wolf outline, the

Somehow. Shrugging, I'm about to place the frame back in its place, but I freeze at the sight of the man's arms. His right arm was outstretched clearly depicting a tattoo that I immediately recognized. I'd seen a fair share of tattoos in the past, and I'd met a number of people with similar tattoos. But this one was nothing ordinary. It read 'Angela' same as the one I remembered. Coincidence? I bet not.

I ask him. " On my back. And it says the heart can be darker too. And free drugs. I was seventeen then." He says and I smile. " Second?" " Omertà." He answers. " You know I actually thought that was supposed to be your first tattoo." " Nah. My dad never wanted me to have that in case I decided to leave the mob." He says. " And what does the Arabic tattoo mean? And why Arabic?" I ask. " I like them and the language. And the meaning; It means 'my soul is darker than night'. The other one is 'angels don't die'."

"Uff, just forget my question. Um, I go ahead first—" "Why always avoid me, Aurora?" I looked at him with a scowl. "I-I'm not avoiding you," I replied then swallowed the remaining wine in my glass. To my surprise, Damien held my left wrist. Then he observed what he saw there. I know, he wants to see the tattoo on my wrist. It was a small halo with wings tattooed. It also has the date, month, and year engraved in the center of the wings. I heard him breathing deeply. "My child,"

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

his voice was shaky just as much as his hands were. Adonis raised his hand up and the death angel levitated up into the air, choking and feeling strangled even though no one was holding onto him. "Lo....lord Adonis" he croaked out. Giving his raised up hand a swing, Adonis had the death angel slammed against the wall and his head oozed out red blood. The eyes of all death angels present widened. Death angels only had blue blood. Red blood, warmth, sweat were not things that death angels could feel. Once a death angel feels such, he has done the forbidden... He has fallen in love.

He rolled up the first of his sleeves and stretched his hand out so it caught the light. His entire sleeve was a canvas of intricate tattoos, with a clock dominating the design, its inner gears showing and extending down to his wrists. Surrounding the clock was a blooming rose flower, its petals wilting. Delicate rose flowers bloomed around it, their petals hugging the clock, yet also wilting, as if succumbing to the passage of time. Dominating the top part of his hand was what I assumed was an angel, with a dark cloak over his body and a blade buried in his chest