Juuzou Tattoos Novels & Stories

Scar shouted before Jasmine disappeared into the room. ______________ Jasmine settled on the chair provided for her as she examined the different designs of tattoos on the walls, "Did you design all of these?" She asked pointing at the drawings as Alejandro turned around to look at what she was pointing at, "Yes, I did," he replied as Jasmine continued to admire the drawings in awe, "They're beautiful," she said as Alejandro chuckled before walking towards her with the materials to get started, "Thank you, so what would you like to get?" He asked as Jasmine lay back with a grin on her face, "I'd like to get a Japanese dragon with words at the end of its tail," she said as Alejandro looked at

“Ye’ve crossed blades with Zaterra, th’ drifter. Wild Card o’ th’ Seven Seas.” Aki wondered. He definitely looked the part. He sported dreadlocks, long side burns, a single hoop earring, a goatee and a vest without a shirt. Aki recalled where she had first encountered him. She had grabbed him by the foot earlier and taken him for a spin before dropping him in the sea. Apparently, he managed to climb back on board. “I’ve a penchant fer rum, cards ’n port revelry.” “Nobody asked for your profile,” Aki said. She rapidly made the hand seal of Jin the Inner Bonds to perform Chounouryokujutsu (Thought-listening). Her eyes flashed white with energy.

Zoe took three bold steps towards Aaron, her mind filled with anger and fear at the same time. She wanted to be wrong. She desperately wanted to be wrong but as the tattoo stared right at her, she knew she wasn’t. This was a very unique tattoo and she couldn’t have missed it. She had been staring only at it the day Francis had been shot and the trauma from it had made her not to be able to forget about it. Without warning, she touched the drawing with her hand making Aaron flinch in alert. He turned, ready to hit whomever it was touching him but relaxed when he saw it was only her.

“is just for fun.” Heat climbed up my neck. “And what’s the fun one supposed to mean?” “You’d have to find out for yourself.” His voice dipped low again, and I swore my heart skipped. One of his friends Ryan grin leaned in then, resting an elbow on the table. “You’re not the only one with ink worth showing off,” he said, tugging up his own sleeve. The tattoo was intricate, swirling with roses and blades, like beauty tangled with danger. The other two joined in, each showing me their designs a phoenix across one’s back that peeked over his collar, a serpent winding down another’s arm in precise, dangerous curves.

Joram said, "Has the time of the month passed?" Alek shrugged. He poured some whiskey into two glass cups and handed one to Joram. "I don't know." He took a sip of his drink, looking at the tattoos that covered his forearms. A few decades ago, his arms were bare. When he was born, his whole skin was clear, then at the age of 10, the first signs appeared from his chest. Every decade, the tattoo seemed to grow and expand on its own. Now, it had covered his back, chest, and one of his arms. It is suspected that when his whole body is covered, it means death for him and all the Lycans still surviving. Once every decade, when the tattoo imprinted more designs on his body, he was always agitated a

“I plan to tattoo a Koru on you. It’s a sort of spiral that’s part of Māori culture, and in New Zealand, it means new life, growth, strength, and peace. They made bone sculptures with this symbol that were used as pendants for necklaces. The bone, when worn, changes color. And for the Māori, it meant that a part of a person's spirit entered the pendant. Sometimes it was given to another person, as if to transmit a part of one's happiness.” James takes off his shirt and shows me his right shoulder. “I had it done by Sky last week. Mine is a way to transmit my happiness and love to you.” He puts his shirt back on—what a shame—and turns back to me. “And also a bit of bad luck, since you manage

Dabbing over the wound of the Ryuu made the guy clutch his hand into a tight fist hissing and bitting over the cloth on his mouth. The heart tattoo on his wrist with the wings on it in the middle has the initial of R and K. With the arrow bottom going in and out of the heart. "He was the sinner not like you must be worst than you" Takeshi mumbles applying the cream carefully over the corner, placing the cotton over it at the end warping the white bandage around his wound. Ryuu turns his gaze at the boy who has his head bending down rolling the bandage on his wrist. He really can't say or make out what he is really saying as the voice starts to go far and far in the distance.

As they were responsible of why her cute and charming little sister experience hell and became like this— a coldhearted individual. This tattoo was the same on Aoi Akuma's nape, yet it has a different weapon penetrated on its skull. On Aoi Akuma, it was a dark blue bullet while on Zitrey it was a black sword with crimson light reflecting on the moon and dark clouds. Even the ball sockets were crying in crimson blood. Seeing this will envelop you with the vibe of creepiness. Moreover, the tattoo was covered in deep scars, like it was hit several times by a sharp weapon. And right now, a new wound was gonna leave it's marked on her sister's white skin, adding to the agony Kate felt. “Kate, you

It’s a huge bull, big enough to feed a pack this size for weeks. Justus’s tan skin shines in the flickering torchlight. His hair is pulled back in a messy knot. His hands wrap around the branch, elongating his torso, throwing every single muscle into relief and exposing the whole tapestry of his tattoos. I don’t know where to stare. His obliques? The ridge of V-shaped muscle that disappears into his waistband? The black swirls and shapes that I can’t make out from back here, but that my eyes can’t help trying to decipher? My mouth waters. I swallow it down.

And there it had been. The tattoo. An inverted triangle. A snake curling through it. It had only taken a glance for Jaden to recognize it. People outside the underworld believed tattoos were decoration. Style. Art. But in the circles Jaden moved in, tattoos were language. Symbols. Declarations. When he joined the Yakuza, the ink had not come all at once. No one earned that privilege so easily. Every mark had been given over time, added slowly like ranks stitched onto a uniform. Each piece carried meaning, history, proof of loyalty and danger.