Romans & histoires Harley Quinn Rotten Tattoo

Thor killed his third attacker and stepped back toward me. “How many?” he asked. I did not answer. Because I was counting differently. Not how many remained. But how many were designed to die. That was when I saw it. On the wrist of one of the fallen wolves, partially exposed beneath torn fabric. A mark. A tattoo. Recognizable. I froze for a fraction of a second longer than I should have. Thor noticed immediately. “What is it?” I knelt slowly, pulling the wrist closer. The symbol was burned into skin with deliberate precision.

After a few clicks, Terrence confirmed his guess. Bingo. It’s a serpent tattoo. A symbol of Sinesteros. “It’s the Sinesteros symbol boss!” Cody excitedly announced. ‘I knew it. This is not just about that woman in the wheelchair.’ Terrence thought to himself. “Strip down their clothes!” Terrence commanded. Conrad and his squad immediately followed and pulled their clothes revealing the tattoos on their arms. Some had it on their chest. Terrence marched with heavy footsteps going in their direction. He took out his 9mm Rapide- Black Ice handgun from his waist and kneeled and pulled one of the men’s hair down and pressed the nozzle of his gun on his chin.

Not as big of a mess as Quinn’s skin was though. He sighed as his fist clenched around his large vape machine. And as for the fucker tattooing his name on her fucking skin like she was his fucking slave! That was going to go the second he had Quinn in the clear and away from that psychopath… He let himself smile. Hopefully she would be thinking of him for the days she was going to take to heal and not what that fucking Italian bastard did to her.

The metal panel reflected her distorted, twisted expression. The wind on the rooftop howled as she burst through the door, snatching the breath from her lungs. Her eyes locked instantly on the sight at the center of the platform—Harley tied to a metal chair, his tiny wrists raw and bleeding from the rope. Jacqueline stood behind him, her white dress whipping wildly in the wind, the blade of a knife glinting cruelly against the boy's pulsing throat. "Mmmph! Mommy!" Harley's muffled screams were stifled by a gag. As he struggled, the knife grazed his neck, a thin line of blood trailing down his skin.

Between them, in elegant black script, sat the tattoo: CW His striking glassy gray eyes darkened as he stared. “There’s another one,” I said, voice turning low and teasing. “On my hip bone. Want to see that too?” He nodded once. I stood, unzipped the prison trousers, and nudged them down just enough to reveal the smooth skin of my hip. The second tattoo read CROWE in the same beautiful lettering, right above the delicate line of my v-cut. “I can’t see it properly,” Ryker murmured, his voice dropping. “Come closer.”

Osric answers while sitting on the edge of the lounge near Raven’s head making her smile. “How are you doing? It’s a big tattoo, you hurting yet?” I question, looking down at her hip to see the raven in red ink at the top of her hip taking up almost her entire thigh. The tattoo is very cool, the Raven is in a defensive attack position and made of knots like you would see in old Norse temples. “Enjoying talking to these guys, and getting to know Ares a bit better, it stings when it’s right over the bone but not bad,” Raven admits while looking down at the tattoo gun pressing against her skin, as Ares works on the dark red outline.

He seemed a little sad as he went over to him and I knew there was more than meets the eyes. Hell, how was this even possible? Harold was already looking him over as he helped him recline properly. "What's happening to him, Harold?" Jacob asked. "Well, this is a result of the tattoo in his arms. Us werewolves are unable to get tattooed because our wounds heal before anything can be made into a stretch and we have always avoided it. But then, a certain criminal wolf named Maddox happened to find a way through his crazy desires. While torturing a werewolf, he realised that he could make tattoos that way and he became an inventor. We all however are not allowed to do it, especially those from t

As long as it wouldn't hurt anyone. I got Max's call after a few minutes. Walking away from the men who were mopping the floor, I took the call. “Any news?” “Yes, my alpha. The tattoo belonged to the men of the Scorpion Syndicate. That's their symbol mark. It's of a skull being pierced by an axe and an arrow prodding from its left eye. I can't be wrong about that.” “I see.”

"Why do you have that tattoo between your shoulder blades?" The tattoo of a tree covered in blossoms and surrounded by a tribal styled border taunted me. It was so much like my own snow covered tree, and Lana's fruit laden one. Harley's eyes darted around the room, obviously looking for an easy escape. "Answer me, dammit!" I heard myself shout, gripping her upper arms with my hands. "Why do you have a similar tattoo to mine? Why do you have one like the one I'd presume April would have?"

Closer. Closer. Closer. “A tattoo,” I yelled. “They both had the same tattoo.” How did I miss that earlier? “Are you sure?” Prince Dante asked. “Positive, Master. I remember it now. Coral had a tattoo on her right forearm and so did Zane.” Master went quiet for a minute, then he asked. “Can you describe the tattoo?” “It was a cross in the midst of thorns.” When Coral raised her hands to pierce my neck, I saw it.