Gone But Never Forgotten Tattoos Novels & Stories

“Do you often drink this much?” “No, just when I know that the nightmares are going to be bad. The tattoo that I got tonight is for a K9 that gave her life for me. Protecting me. The memories are right there, just under the surface.” she tapped her head. “You see the five of us having fun, getting drunk, being a little too perverted.” She shook her head. “We’re trying to make peace with our demons.”

Many of them were just lying down at the back so they would not participate and so we won't notice them when they walk away to their homes and begun their daily activities without a prayer of guidance to Selene which was said while everyone was down in their knees facing the sunrise and in the evenings, we say it facing the sunset. “Done!” Shane said getting up and taking off his shirt showing properly tanned skin layered with his abs and the muscles on his arms were designed with tattoos that meant many things. There was a tattoo of his mate whom he had just gotten a back view of her when he first met her, she was Hispanic so he'd told the tattoo artist to draw a girl's head - the backview

The love of my life. Silvy The day after Goof proposed and claimed me he took me to Tank's tattoo shop to get my mark. Was I nervous? Hell yes. I was nervous about the entire process. Tank, bless the gentle giant, let me bring Ant in with us. Ant was a hit at the shop. I was a little worried the receptionist might not give him back. It took Tank forty five minutes to finish the work on my shoulder. According to Goof that is the least sexy part of my body. Did it burn? Sure. But not as bad as I thought it would be. I wanted to see what it looked like. Tank stood me in front of his mirror. It was amazing. It looked my the Renegades emblem with a motorcycle driving through the middle of it. A

Ash nods, squeezing her waist with his hand. “And you never should, Honey.” She looks up at him, her eyes shining with tears yet to fall. He grabs his handkerchief and dries her eyes carefully. “Gone, but not forgotten. Just like our mothers, and a lot of other people along the way. We have lost friends over the years too. You commemorate them in your tattoo, I write about them. I have journals with details of friends who have died one way or another. It helps me to remember and honour them.” Eliza tilts her head at him, but blinks a few times then nods. Giving him a half-smile. When he looks back at them, Charlie and Serena are looking at him with a measure of reverence. He furrows his brow

He walked over to where the men gathered and cleared his throat, getting their attention. They all raised their head to stare at him, one by one, a look he had gotten familiar with in their eyes. A look of admiration. He wasn't dressed in a shirt so his heavily tattoed chest and abdominal area were exposed. He had gotten another tattoo after Angelo's death. An eagle on his back and Angelo's name written under it, in Angelo's memory. ***

By the end, he lay collapsed on the floor, his body covered in grotesque red markings. I looked down at him, my tone calm and detached. "Oh, I forgot to mention. This tattoo ink is specially made. It won't fade. It'll stay with you for the rest of your life." I tilted my head slightly, almost amused. "I was just joking around with you, Mr. Payne… You're not upset, are you?"

I bent over the dead soldier, my heart heavy as I realized that the same tattoo adorned his neck as well. he design was unlike anything I had seen before, yet there was an unsettling familiarity about it, a memory tugging at the edges of my mind. The tattoo depicted a flying demon, its wings outstretched, eyes aglow with an otherworldly luminescence. The level of detail was astonishing, every line and curve capturing the essence of the creature in a way that was both mesmerizing and disconcerting. The artistry was undeniable, but there was an underlying malevolence that sent shivers down my spine.

“I will always be captivated by the Forgotten. See that tattoo on your wrist? That was the mark of the Forgotten.” What mark? She did not have any tattoos. She stopped when she found one. She was wrong. She had one. It was a letter F with thorns crawling on the lines. “I am not forgotten,” she said with clenched teeth. Mariah will still remember her even though she will be gone. Her classmates will still remember her.

The tattoo was his art, his design, and also the image of what he carried inside him every day the image he now carried on his back, that moved with him. Nikolai name was inked with intricate, beautiful calligraphy letters, while nico name was bold, broken, and bleeding into the flames. He loved his brother, but hated himself. There was a single crack in the headstone right at the top of the cross. The flames that engulfed the cross from the ground were blood red, angry shades of orange, its only goal to destroy while his name suffered its wrath.

"What do you mean, Aunty?" "It seems you're rebelling against us. You go out and get tattoos. I mean they're small and not that visible, but still —, " she shook her head and exhaled. "Aunty I'm sorry you guys feel that way, but each of my tattoos means something to me. The one on my wrist is Dad's name, the one below my left rib is Mom's name, and the butterfly behind my ears represents my transformation. I was once a broken child, and now I'm gaining confidence as the days go by," I told her.