Japanese Tattoo Designs Novels & Stories

The result was flawless. After I finished, I sat in the corner and watched with interest as Hector took his turn. He had decided to finish the sleeve on his right arm, while Jonathan had chosen to tattoo his shoulder in a tribal Maori design. The two deeply respected Maori culture and were thrilled to get traditional Maori tattoos. Jonathan's tattoo symbolized resilience, while Hector's represented strength and courage. After a few hours, we finished and returned to the pack house. When we pulled up, a few guards stood by the front door. After getting out of the car, one of them stepped towards us before we had the chance to walk up the stairs.

he asked with a light laugh which sounded so sexy. I scolded myself for acting like a school girl in front of her crush. Everything about my ex could make your mouth water. Though I didn't need to feel embarrassed admiring his body because we were a couple, I couldn't help it. Any woman could easily go gaga over him and do sinful things for this man. I couldn't blame Lolla at all. With a bikini-wrecking smile, he raised his right arm and placed his hand at the back of his head so I could see his tattoo clearly. My eyes widened. His tattoo was my name in Kanji characters. Below, the translation of each character was written in English alphabets.

“You had your initial tattooed on me, yes.” He shook his head and touched the tattoo on her ankle. “No. See, this is the heart. Half of the heart was extended down to form the letter J. Beside it is a butterfly. The body of the butterfly with a dot at the top is the letter I. The top part of the butterfly wing, is actually curved to form the letter N. Didn’t you notice why those lines were thicker than the rest of the lines?” Julianne stared at her ankle, making out the lines of her tattoo.

“Something exclusive.” “Exclusive? Sure. I’ll have him recommend some.” Soon a batch of designs came through. Forrest introduced them seriously. “Demon tattoo, also called a slave mark. Usually on the lower abdomen. You know what it means. But people who get this are usually women…” Forrest turned his head and saw Lorenzo studying the designs with full focus. A chill ran down his spine. “Bro, you are not thinking of doing this, right?” Lorenzo stubbed out his cigarette and said calmly, “She said she wanted to leave her exclusive mark on me.”

The forward orientation holds. That evening, Don came into the study with a book. It was a history of Japanese garden design, with photographs of the great gardens of Kyoto — the moss garden at Saiho-ji, the raked gravel at Ryoan-ji, the strolling garden at Katsura Imperial Villa. He opened it to a photograph of a gardener raking gravel in concentric circles around a rock.

“Shit. This stinks, you keep it.” He knew she hadn’t noticed the logo of his band on it, and he wanted her to keep it and find out later. A little souvenir. She caught it and threw it in the plastic bag with the rest of her laundry. When she turned around to put on her panties, he paid attention to the discreet tattoo under her left shoulder for the first time. A symbol and a feather. “Chinese?” he asked, touching it. “Japanese,” she replied, doing the button fly. “What does it mean?”

Yamamoto from Japan. This distinguished designer, over seventy years old and a national treasure in Japan, reportedly had a good relationship with the world-renowned design maestro, Danny Lin. He was highly respected in the design world. But this master had a peculiar temperament and high standards, rarely impressed by any work.

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c