Roman Numeral Hand Tattoo Novels & Stories

“I need the ink.” “What colors?” He asked. “Each pile gets a black. The second one gets three.” Alec did as I asked. “The fourth is a water color tattoo so I need one pink, purple, blue, green and yellow. This one is red and orange.” “Four tattoos today?” Alex asked. “Yeah, they are all big tattoos and not much pain tolerance.” “Mine is itching like crazy.” “Turn around and lift your shirt up.” I said rolling my eyes. Grabbing the numbing lotion, I put it on his back. He even keeled for me but I caught him looking at me in the mirror.

I approached their weak-ass leader and pulled him by the collar. "Remember my face and this tattoo you dummy, cause this day forward I will be your master. You and your useless gangmates will be my slave. You understand?" I said, looking hard at him. I grabbed his jaw and took a dagger that I always hid inside my boots. I carved a letter 'V' on his face. It stands for Violet. I tap the wound I made. "Aarrgghh!" He cried out in pain. Oh, my, my. Music to my ears.

He remained still and often engaged in a small chat with me to show that he was all right for I was a bit agitated as I scanned the way his skin bruised and bled. When she wipes away the excess drops of his blood in completion I examine the tattoo over his red puffed skin. It consists of a total of four elements beginning with a wide circle and inside the circle are two equally beautiful but distinct flowers and one crown. Perhaps from an outsider's view, it would seem like a feminine design one that females would prefer and definitely not Phobos. But he said there was a meaning behind it and I am utterly interested. "Thank you. I shall return in a few days to get the rest finished."

My breath hitched as I caught sight of it in the mirror he pulled out of my bag—a faint yet intricate design swirling across my collar bone, glowing faintly silver before settling into a deep, ink-like black. The tattoo was mesmerizing, an elegant crescent moon at its core, its curves etched with delicate runes that seemed ancient and alive. Surrounding the crescent, fine lines branched out like veins, forming patterns resembling intertwining vines and stars, as though the night sky itself had been imprinted onto my skin. The vines wrapped gently outward, framing the crescent in an intricate lattice of beauty and mystery, their edges tapering off just shy of my collarbone. At the crescent’s

I risk a glance at the man again, and I almost drop dead when I see the Roman numeral seven tattooed on the back of his neck. It’s the same number. From my visions!

His hand twitched, but he didn’t pull away. Tracing all his fingers, I circled his palm again before I slipped my fingers down his hand to his wrist and then up his arm. My eyes darted up to his. “Show me your tattoo.” I watched in delight as his pupils dilated. Instead of taking off his shirt like I wanted him to, he pulled up his sleeve and held up his arm so I could see the ink on his skin. “I’m up to no good,” I read out loud. “In full, it reads as: I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

It probably cost more than my inheritance. “You’re late,” Nero said. He was standing by the minibar with a glass of an amber liquid in his hand. The jacket of his suit was off, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. I could see a sleeve tribal tattoo on his left hand. I couldn’t deny how hot it made him look. The other arm was devoid of any tattoos except for a few Roman numbers on his fingers. Those long and powerful fingers had black rings. He had a mafia vibe to him. Even the penthouse had dark walls and black leather couches.

He patted my shoulder with his tattooed hand. I stared at it, his body was so beautiful, it was like a display of art. Various inks and pictures went up his arms, to his neck and his back. It was truly beautiful, there was a wolf, a symbol, a date, a quote, a picture of some guy and my favorite tattoo was on the back of his hand. It was, 'Fuck you. It's my life' written in italic letters. "Someday you will have something meaningful enough kid." He wound his arm around my neck and practically dragged me to the back of the shop where most of the piercings were done. "Now, wait here while I get the equipments ready."

It finally came to rest at the back of my left hand, where a single, glowing golden dragon curled around my knuckles. I looked at Sol and saw the exact mirror. His shadow-and-star tattoo started at his left foot, racing up his powerful frame in a dark, glittering wave. It crossed his chest—where my name pulsed in silver—and draped over his right shoulder, ending in a swirl of starlight and wolves on his right hand. When we reached out to each other, our marked hands met. The gold of his name on my skin and the silver of mine on his seemed to spark where they touched. We were a living tapestry of the two greatest lineages to ever walk the earth.

He sits on the working table, hanging both his legs to the floor. He took off his shirt and lift his hand motioned me to come to him. I'm in awe right now, cause he had a great body, and what I observed is, he had a tattoo on his right shoulder muscle. It seems like a round shape with dots and swirling hurricane shape. I can't see that clearly, cause I'm not near to him and besides the light shadow is dominating his right hand. I stand there, contemplating to go to him or not, my face is flushed and becomes red I'm sure. Cause the view in front of me is very hot, hotter than a volcano, and I'm melting in this lava .