Hunter X Hunter Chrollo Spider Tattoo Novels & Stories

she teased, biting her lip as she lifted the fabric of his shirt, until something between his tattoos, near his chest, caught her attention "Hey, wait... What is it?" "I told you." he smiled, as she ran her fingers over the new tattoo on his skin that was still no more than a few lines without shading or depth, but she could already understand what image it was forming "We, wolves, have the habit of immortalizing those we love in our skins. And it's been too long for me to do this with the person I love most." Hunter kissed her temple "So while I was having a long meeting with the cougars today, I ended up asking one of the pack's tattoo artists to do the first sketch for me. Don't worry, it

My focus glued to this stranger and my heart beating through my chest with the sensation I’m being chased, stalked, or hunted. He's exactly as the visions showed. Perfect as a man, with good looks, and sculpted physique, a presence that screams dominant alpha male. He’s muscular and tall, covered in black Aztec tattoos which are there for all to see as he once again turns towards us. The large blazing sun sign of the hunter on his left peck, right where I hoped it wouldn’t be and it seals his fate. The symbol has not changed in hundreds of years, and even though this is a tattoo and not burned, carved cruelly on the skin of the hunter, it’s still exactly as it’s always been.

Is he naturally built like this? Asher steps backward to give me the full picture. I see stars on his knees that match his shoulders. He twists, showing the rugged expanse of his back. I was right: it’s a church inscribed over his shoulder blades and spine. It’s lovely, but above it is the terrifying image of a spider. “Layla told me about the tattoos in the Bratva,” I say. Inching off the desk, I approach him. He remains where he is, watching me over his shoulder. My hand touches one of the stars. “What do these all mean?”

the girl hurried to offer her a hand, “Come on. Let me help you.” The girl’s gaze fixed on Chloe’s forehead. The look on her face changed abruptly. “M—Miss Chloe, what is that on your face?” she asked reluctantly. Aurora followed the girl’s gaze. She almost burst into laughter. The concealer that Chloe wore every day to cover her tattoo was worn out in the water. The tattoo was now clear as day—SLAVE. “Why do you have the word ‘slave’ tattooed to your forehead?” the girls demanded, “I thought you were a lady back in Silver Blade Pack.”

We might even survive it. "You hear her?" Xander said, licking his lips. "They’re not gonna kill us. Not unless we make them look weak." Carolina shrugged. "Good thing I’m useless at appearances." She held up her wrist, where the bluebell bloom shone under her skin—heliotropic, a living tattoo. "You want to talk about next steps, or are we just gonna keep… you know?" Mira waved a hand at Xander, who responded by sliding his hand into her hair, pulling her close. A practiced ritual.

The weight of the moment was palpable, heightened by the realization that the priest standing beside me was none other than Krystallo, the infamous mafia priest known for his merciless acts. My eyes inadvertently drifted towards the cross-shaped tattoo, intertwined with a viper, adorning Krystallo's neck. The intricate design served as a chilling reminder of the countless lives he had taken and the blood that stained his hands. It was a symbol of power and ruthlessness, one that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened criminals.

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to

Much like the man himself! Asides from the writing the tattoo looks like Something older, darker, heavier than anything I’ve ever seen. It snakes across his chest in a pattern that feels… almost alive. There’s a drawing of a serpent or is it a dragon?, its body curling and twisting in a perfect ouroboros on the left side of his torso, scales etched so finely I swear I could almost feel them under my fingertips. His heart beats beneath it, steady, slow, eternal, and it’s like the tattoo moves with him, shifting slightly as he exhales.

Alexander turned sharply, irritation flaring—then stopped. In the man’s palm lay a small black box, no larger than a matchbox. Its surface was matte, faintly warm, as though it had just been held. Etched into its lid was an intricate crimson carving. A red spider lily. The flower seemed almost alive in the low light—its petals curved like flames, blooming darkly, violently, like blood against black stone. Alexander’s breath stilled. He recognised it instantly. The same pattern. The same unmistakable design as the tattoo on her back.

She glanced at me like it hurt to do so,and at that point it seemed her upper lip was always perpetually curled up–her nose wrinkled–whenever she stared at me. “Scorpion tattoos,” she said, no longer looking at me but at an empty space between us. “They seemed familiar,” Harris muttered. “Thank goodness I was able to bring one of them home with us.” I bolted up from my seat before I could stop myself, immediately feeling the judgemental stares of the family as they watched me curiously. “Um…I wanna see him,” I gave a shaky smile. “Is he in the house?” The alpha was the only one who nodded in response. “He is, we're going to get more answers from.”