Forearm Hawk Tattoo Novels & Stories

I don't know if he has tattoos on his back and chest but as much I have seen only his right arm is tattooed and his left arm is free of them. My eyes fell in a the tattoo of a tiny bird. It was small maybe part of a different tattoo but the detailing was impressive. The wings were huge, twice the size of the bird. The way her beak was pointed and the curve of her neck was draw, it amazed me. The only thing I could say was that it had magnificent detailing. "When you got this tattoo made?", I asked while tracing it. "The bird?", he asked. "Yeah.", I said. "It is a phoenix. I got it made after I say Amber. You named her after fire so I thought getting a phoenix made would be the right thing.",

he spits. I squat down to his level. I raise my shirt and there, just above my waistband on my hip, is the Damned Forsaken crest of a raven with a skeletal wing and head sitting atop a skull with a halo leaning against it on one side and a gun on the other. His eyes widen in acknowledgment.

But below that, both his forearms were covered with tattoos. The one on the right consisted of twisty, thorned vines. But the details on the left side were magnificent. There was an ink-splattered face of a wolf solemnly watching me. He was crafted completely in black except for the eyes which were a golden, yellow-brown. There was just something wise and knowing about his expression. But under that, he melted into a moon-lit forest scene where a hooded figure walked among the trees. “Mayhem?” Brick asked softly as if he could read the temptation on my face.

Shadow took a sip as he reported “Eagles- notorious in I and J country. All their members get their heads shaved on the right side. They usually don’t interfere with governments and have not been reported to have tattoos.” “Then, there’s Winged Brothers that originated in U country but have branches in I country, C country, B country and K country. Their symbol is four eagles. They usually deal with drugs and women and have never been able to establish a foothold in our country. They also never recruit adults into their gang.” “Hawkman from C country. Their members get a hawk tattoo; however, they are a vigilante group that responds against social injustice.” “Bird of prey from our country.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

“I’m worshipping. There’s a difference.” Kai’s breath hitched as Damien’s thumb dragged over the phoenix’s head, right above his left nipple. The tattoo was intricate—flames curling in shades of red, orange, and deep black ink that seemed to flicker in the low light. It stretched from just below his collarbones down to the bottom of his ribs, wings wrapping around his sides. Geometric patterns from his full sleeves connected to it, making the entire piece feel alive on his lean-muscled swimmer’s build.

A succinct sombre chuckle escapes her before she lowly orders, "Go back to the cottage." Relieved, I stood and bowed, then sped out of the office. Phew! I live to see another day. Over my heart, an illuminated wolf paw flashed, with the initials HHC.T on the metacarpal. It will continue to blink in this manner until Heron completes the mating process, much like an ornament on a Christmas tree. After that, the imprint's emblem becomes a tattoo. It stood for Heron Hudson Carter.Tyr. His wolf branded me like a cow on a cattle farm.

She’s wearing a scarf and her face is covered with red vale revealing her eyes with only black colors. “State your concern, lady.” I gathered my hair using my right hand and turned sideways to show her the family emblem tattooed on the side of my nape. The Ahvaz family symbol has the sign of a full moon with the face of the wolf, a number of ten stars surround the moon. “We’re here to pick Louisa Ahvaz’s potion orders.”

Immediately, I jerked my eyes upward. Too late. Those butt cheeks can’t leave my head, not for a very long time. I hated that my face was getting hot. Then I noticed the tattoos. A black raven stretched across his back, its wings half-spread on the back of his shoulders as though caught between flight and stillness. On his right shoulder was a black serpent curled over his left pec, glaring at the raven with so much intensity while the raven looked lonely and, worse, sad. More ink trailed across his back. Script. Symbols. Lines disappearing beneath fabric.

He stares at my arm, at where the sleeve of the jumper I’m wearing is rolled up enough and his eyes focus right in on where the tattoo is. I paid a small fortune for that tattoo. It’s a phoenix. It felt almost poetic at the time although I’d admit now it’s a bit cheesy. Its wings are inked into flames. It stretches over my forearm, not too big, but it covers what he’d done. How he’d marked me.