Runes Of Justice Tattoo Novels & Stories

Sinfully hot. I watched as the thick, corded muscle of his chest rippled with his movement. His smooth skin was mapped out with a scary tattoo in dark, intricate ink. I saw the head of a raven on his chest, its wings stretching toward his collarbone, and the runes that trailed down his ribs. He looked like the warrior he was, someone built for violence and chaos. I lay back on the bed, my breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches, watching him with a mixture of terror and a hunger that felt like a physical ache in my chest.

The sight of injustice always struck something raw in me. “I don’t care if you’ve got tattoos covering every inch of your body or piercings hanging from your face like Christmas ornaments, it doesn’t give you the right to act like a goddamn beast,” I spat at the guy ready to pounce on him but Rob drew me back asking me to knock it off. I was too adamant to heed what Rob was asking of me. I squared my shoulders and stepped toward the guy leaning on Roberto’s car. His jacket hung open, revealing inked sleeves, coiling dragons and skulls in black ink that crawled all the way to his neck.

AJ was one of my first partners in crime, back when we were teens. "Uptown. Glad to be back, no lie," I roll my sleeves up to my elbow and unbutton my shirt to mid chest, making sure that all of my ink is on display. In this world, these tattoos are an important part of our identity. Each tat has a meaning. The vines are for my crew, each thorn a successful mission. One little rosebud for Livy, when I took her into my home. A large cross across my chest for my parents, a bleeding heart for my sister Jane.

Julian (eyes distant): “You do now. That’s why we train. Not for power. For them.” Celeste (sketching with finger): Rune glowed, sank into skin—warm like Elowene’s hand. HUD: Rune Learned: Vital Surge (Wrist Tattoo) Cooldown: 23h 59m Seras (leaning over): “Can I get one? For my little brother. He’s sick.” Julian (nodding): “After school. I’ll teach you.”

Before I did something reckless, I stood and went to the shower. When I came out wearing just shorts, I noticed her gaze drift to the tattoo on my chest—a rune, etched beside my heart. It was a rune of eternal memory, used to safeguard a special memory. Its intricate, delicate design formed a circular pattern symbolizing continuity and eternity, its lines glowing faintly like candlelight. In the center, small symbols surrounded a tiny face, representing the connection and permanence of the memory. The rune creates a magical shield, protecting the memory from being forgotten or corrupted by time or external events. Her gaze took me back to the day I had that rune tattooed. But I returned to t

“Leni, you sure you want a tattoo that size on your forearm? It’s pretty big.” “I’m sorry, you’re questioning the size of ANYONE’S tattoos?” I growl. “Okay, okay!” He holds his hands up in surrender. “You’re in excellent hands. Cason, mindlink me when you get a minute.” “Sure thing, Alpha. I’ll look at my schedule.” Cason says, but he doesn’t look up. He is already drawing on my arm. His face is full of concentration. Three hours later, I admire the stunning tattoo. Justice is already healing it. It looks like when a dragon sheds its scales.

"Church? Should we pray first before attacking?" "Are you making fun of me, miss? We are just the two of us; to be precise, I am alone and have to carry your burden. I need weapons at least to anticipate any bad possibilities that will happen, even though without weapons, I can beat them." Rain glanced at Jace's arm, which was covered with black runes and a few tattoos of black roses starting to bloom. Rain was sure the roses were part of the curse, and she had never seen any runes. The rose rune seemed to signify that Jace's life would not be extended.

I couldn’t falter; I wouldn’t let him bleed out on my floor, not when every heartbeat felt like a silent plea for survival. I settled onto the cold linoleum, my heart pounding as I locked my gaze on his battered body. Every inch of him told a story, each tattoo a chapter of pain and survival. The bold double DD letters sprawled across his knuckles caught my eye first, a stark contrast against the bruises and blood. A tree, strong yet fragile, adorned his left forearm, whispering secrets of resilience, while the wave-like patterns on his ribcage danced dangerously close to his deep, ragged wound. But it was the quote etched on his right forearm that pulled at my heartstrings, resonating with

He strides in, a massive figure in leather, his face a war zone, a jagged scar cutting across his cheek from jaw to temple, one eye a cloudy white, the other deep and relentless, trapping me like a rabbit in a trap. That tattoo, a sun divided by a claw, identifies him distinctly: Sun Pack. His voice rumbles deep, harsh like cracked rock, slicing through the air like a knife. “Go ahead and run, girl, and I’ll bring you to Jason myself.”

He spoke in an emotionless tone making Summer go quite. "Fine. I am forgiving you." She held the strips of her bag. "But you have to buy me lunch today and I not not letting you go easily." She told him making him smile. He nodded. "I will buy you whatever you want to eat." "Okay then... let's go." She started walking while this time he was walking beside her matching their foot steps. "Alex won't bully you now. Do you have that tattoo? Where is it on your body?" Every Yakuza member would get a tattoo either on neck or shoulder or hand to indicate their organization. The tattoo were different for every rank and as he was the next in line, his tattoo was just like his father.