Small Nightmare Before Christmas Tattoos Novels & Stories

I am thankful he let me listen to that song. “Thank you… I almost forgot about those important details.” I bluntly said. He moves closer messing my hair making me grunt and gesture my hand, sliding it vertically to my neck. It’s a warning not to mess with my hair. “Oh… the tiger is now back.” I never mind what he was saying. I just focus on my drawing; maybe it will help me to find them. I picture out the tattoo I see on that bastard's left chest. It’s the only thing I can hold to find that tattoo. I draw a wolf eating the full moon looking up…maybe to praise the Moon Goddess or the opposite meaning? Devouring?

I was trying to be as careful as possible so I wouldn't wake him up, so I steadied my hands against his chest and placed my head down until I was sure he'd fallen back asleep. When he began to snore lightly again, I raised my head and uncovered his arm slowly. I glanced at the tattoo. My mouth gawked open at how beautiful his tattoo was. It was a picture of a wolf and a girl. The girl had a pair of broken glasses on the bottom, making her own eyes seem more beautiful. 

But in workout gear, it’s a game of where’s skin. He’s got this incredible realistic grayscale full sleeve piece on his right arm of a mountainscape of a wolf pup sitting on a lake looking at the rippled reflection of a full-grown wolf. His legs are grayscale realistic mythology scenes featuring, you guessed it, wolves. His left sleeve is different, still grayscale, but it’s a Nightmare Before Christmas sleeve. And his back dude has a full-color Japanese Godzilla piece. And lastly, his chest piece is this grayscale twisted grove of branches that comes together to look like a guitar with a raven on the perched wings spread wide on the top.

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to

*Aaron* I don't know about you, but waking up next to someone as extraordinary as Winter can do funny things to a guy. Today, I felt like I was plugged into an energy grid or something. I woke from deep sleep, blinking against the golden rays pouring through the window, only to find Winter still lost in her dreams, her red hair swirling around her like a fiery halo. For a moment, I just sat there, taking in the sight, wondering how someone so ethereal could exist in my world. The tattoo on my chest—a northern star—seemed to pulse in sync with my heartbeat, thrumming with the same energy I felt when I marked her.

Scar kissed her neck softly as she traced every line of the ink as if she was re-inking them herself. A large skull was surrounded by an array of roses. A Christian cross in the back, behind the skull, stuck out to Lani because of the dove perched on it so innocently. Scar's tattoos were a mixture of dark and light, they described him perfectly. The same happened on his arms, one was decorated with the ideas of Satan, the other those of holy angels.

His dark eyes glimmered with emotion, his body tensed as if he could tear down the walls in one stroke. Through his soaked t-shirt I had finally made out the pattern of his tattoo. I had assumed it was small, peeping out of his sleeve hem, however a huge swirling intricate black pattern of snakes, moon, stars, and a dozen other tiny little features travelled down across shoulder blades. I’m never going to get to ask about that now. Little things like that made me wince with regret.

The revelation about the masked man having a dragon tattoo had struck a chord within him, sending his thoughts spiraling. A surge of memories flooded his mind, memories he had tried to bury deep within his consciousness. The image of a fierce dragon tattoo, its intricate design etched upon a powerful Lycan King's arm, resurfaced in his thoughts. Xander knew all too well the significance of such a mark. It was a symbol of authority, a mark reserved for those who held immense power within the Lycan community.

Throwing all her and Bernice's hard work to the wind. Well, she would look on the bright side and consider this a fortune, rather than a misfortune because she would soon be twelve million dollars rich in a few days and a multimillionaire in a few months. All because of him, her eyes gazed up to his face. He was now fast asleep, snoring softly. His breathing was labored as his chest rose and fell in a rhythm. Her eyes roamed all over his body, taking in every detail. She noticed a weird pattern of small letters drawn in the form of a tattoo across the blades of his back, they seemed ancient but familiar. They were old Germanic letters, popularly known as runes. She remembered them from her c

even with my capped sleeve she can see my shoulder is sans tattoo. “I was told to get a discreet one, so it’s disguised on my back.” She looks confused. “What do you mean?” “Apparently, they can work the runes into any pattern or shape, or hide them. Sage designed an amazing phoenix and worked the runes into it. I’ll show you later.” “What?” Her eyes widen. “I just got the boring Task Force circle. You’re telling me I could’ve gotten something nice instead?” I laugh. “Yep. Sorry.” “Man.” She huffs. “That’s unfair.”