Romans & histoires Oblivion Tattoos

Leonidas stared at his friend as the male got another tattoo on his back, the red panther tattoo being his neck being the only red thing in the sea of black creatures and words. The man doing the tattoo, a Dionysus Familia, by the name of Stratos, a friend of Loukas made him felt a bit uncomfortable because of his way of speaking and numerous rings on his nose but there was nothing he could tell Loukas to change the male's mind on him. Leonidas felt his eyes stray again to the red tattoo on Loukas' back, a little bit of jealousy filling him.

His eyes, an intense shade of dark gray, sparkled with the intensity of distant constellations, promising a journey into uncharted territories. Caleb's figure moved with a feral grace, a reflection of the untamed spirit that resided within him. His every step echoed the dance of shadows beneath the moon, a testament to a life unbound by conventional constraints. Tattoos adorned his arms, celestial patterns that seemed to echo the cosmic symphony that accompanied his every movement.

she said softly, her voice full of fake concern, “I know you’re a blood-healer, too. Darius’s princely power is so strong. I’ve felt so much better since we forged the bond, but… it left this brand on me. Can you tell me if it looks right? As a healer, you would know.” I followed her finger. To Darius’s chest. There, where a sacred sigil meant for me should have been, was an unholy mark. It was more than a mark; it was a soul-brand, glowing with a faint light that repulsed me on instinct. The center of the ancient family sigil, which should have been blank, waiting for my name to be inscribed during our ceremony… Now had a name tattooed in arcane ink: Livia. A mark like that would take at le

I relieved the odor of fire that filled the air and bothered the lungs, replacing it with the fresh air of a world that could now rain, snow, and crack with heat, but on a bearable level for both a human queen and fallen angels who lacked basic sensations. While shaping the world to my beautiful pleasure, my own body molded to acquire traces of that beautiful and supernatural complexion. The skin between my seiös burned hard, and I didn't have to look down to know that the image of the pendant of my destroyed necklace was now drawn on my skin as a tattoo of my own sin. I didn't need to look to know that Lilith's protective spirit "the bull viper that surrounded me in moments of danger" now r

Each man wore the mark. Different symbols etched into skin: a serpent coiled around a sword on the left forearm of one, twin wolves snarling beneath a bleeding moon on the wrist of another, a skeletal crown on the palm of a third, and a phoenix swallowing its own tail just above the elbow of the last. Each tattoo pulsed faintly, dark and ancient, remnants of an allegiance born of secrecy, ambition, and old blood.

You'd be nothing but a tomfool if you underestimate him because he has all of the most hidden information about the underworld in his cryptic brain. Don't judge a book by its cover, right? "Then you tell me." I raise my eyebrow and take a sip from my drink. "The tattoo is a sign of the Bratva and it indicates their loyalty to the mafia family. When they assign as a member of the mafia, they cosign their life to the Devil and get the tattoo. Only exclusive members, who have seen him, get the tattoo on the neck. But the others get it on their wrist." He murmurs and keeps serving the drinks to the people.

After all, even he could not understand how my mind worked. But fortunately, I did not disappoint him this time as I shook my head at them. "You aren't truly sorry. You're just scared of Theodore's retribution. You're only worried about yourselves. My obliviousness is just a way to protect myself. But now that I know you wanted to hurt me, I won't let this be." Only then did I understand why I had become so oblivious. Back at the orphanage, many adults had said we were children who had been abandoned. There had been plenty of bullying among the children too.

He nudged the unconscious man, pushing him to his stomach and just as expected, a black moon tattoo was carved onto the skin of his neck. A Darkmooner “Blow the horn”

Every few seconds my eyes drag back anyway. Leon drives one-handed, the other resting loosely against the center console, tattooed fingers flexing occasionally like violence still lives beneath his skin and hasn’t fully settled. The city lights sliding through the windshield paint shadows across the hard lines of his face, catching briefly against the black ink spread across his throat. The moth looks darker at night. Its wings disappear beneath the collar of his shirt, and every time he swallows, the ink shifts with the movement. I hate that I keep staring at his mouth, I hate that my body still remembers him dragging me into the SUV, the strength in his arms, the rough sound of his voice a

Dustin sneered. “Certainly not. If you tell me, I can leave one person alive, but if you don’t, I’m going to annihilate your entire family.” Brennan’s face turned grim, but in the end, he could only sigh. Then, he whispered, “I can tell you that the person who gave the orders that day was someone with a red spider lily tattoo on the back of his hand.” Dustin’s face froze. Some organizations used tattoos to mark their members. That was a very common thing.