Small Santa Muerte Tattoos Novels & Stories

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

"No transfusions, no painkillers, no servants. If you want to live, feed yourself, walk yourself. If you truly faint, then die right here. I won't lose sleep over hosting another funeral." Serena screamed and collapsed onto the floor. It was the first time she'd seen murder in Dante's eyes. Dante stepped over her, as if walking through air. He walked out the door and got into the black bulletproof car. "Boss, we've got a lead." His right-hand man in the front passed him a satellite photo. "The signal's coming from a private island on the high seas – coordinates 32 degrees North latitude, named 'Sanctuary'." Dante took the photo, his finger rubbing hard over the coordinate point.

They certainly deserved it after the nightmares they had been through. Macario and I stood up and started from Jackson down the line. I asked them where they wanted it because it would essentially become a tattoo. They needed to be sure they were okay with the placement. Jackson and Lilli wanted it over their hearts. Dent and Pati wanted it on their inner wrists. The girls both wanted it on the left shoulder blades. Macario grabbed my hand and had me focus on the power that I could feel coming from him. I gathered it up and pushed it out towards them. Each of their sigils glowed with a brilliant white light before turning into black tattoos. It worked. It fucking worked.

He asked as he breathed out his smoke. I take off my jacket and my shirt to show him my tattoo of the Criemsons. The tattoo shows a blood sword that encircles with vipers and roses that symbolizes our gang or mafia name. I swiveled to indicate my identity while his ladies gape at me like the last cupcake in a bakery they wanted to devour. "Holy mother of great mercy" He grinned. "Now can we converse interaction?" I asked before I put my clothes in and I know his kittens will groan for consuming clothes.

I admire the tattoo taking up most of his back, it's similar to Storms. It's a pair of evil snake eyes in red, with a green and yellow snake wrapped around the pistol facing the red eyes of the evil snake. The words The Satan Sniper’s Motorcycle Club are written under the pistol. But what has me at a standstill is the shading that's done around the entire picture, it's a light shading but unmistakable. It's wings, Angel wings. I don't say anything. I want to but I'm tongue tied. I scan his back and stop at the blue bruises around his sides.

And Paul, her step father wasn't going to do anything to save her. "OK! there's gotta be a reason for which you brought me..." she threw a nasty glance at the environment, "-here!" "Those are some pretty nice tattoos you got on there, little sinner! Where did you get them? Cause I will love to get me some like those..." the evil angel spoke looking viciously at the exposed skin under the sleeves of her shirt. He was now in casual black jeans and sleeveless shirts exposing his well toned and muscled tattooed arms. Unlike the plain lines on Sonny's skin, his arms were covered in skull tattoos, upside down crosses, dragons, weird scary and creepy things that will scare you in broad daylight.

The weight of the moment was palpable, heightened by the realization that the priest standing beside me was none other than Krystallo, the infamous mafia priest known for his merciless acts. My eyes inadvertently drifted towards the cross-shaped tattoo, intertwined with a viper, adorning Krystallo's neck. The intricate design served as a chilling reminder of the countless lives he had taken and the blood that stained his hands. It was a symbol of power and ruthlessness, one that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened criminals.

As I did, the sleeve of his shirt rolled up just enough for something to catch my eye. A tattoo. My gaze hardened immediately. The ink was dark and clear against his skin — the head of a cobra, its mouth wide open, fangs bared. My jaw tightened. There was only one group that carried that mark. Santiago’s mafia. My anger rose instantly, sharp and hot. “So this is your move,” I muttered under my breath. I stood up and grabbed my phone. Within minutes, the boys arrived upstairs. They didn’t ask questions. They had been with me long enough to understand what needed to be done when they saw a dead body on the floor.

Of course, it's his dream, and his two friends Zia and Damon help him a lot. Without them, he is surely doomed. He didn't like getting into trouble, even though he had a face that screamed trouble, that is, he was built in all the right places, had a sleeve of tattoos on both hands, and had a lot of piercings on his ear. Of course, he has a Moon tattoo on the left side of his neck, which Moon Goodness has given him as a gift. When Elder told him about the tattoo, his heart shattered into a million pieces, and he became even more hateful of humans. It's his soulmate tattoo and his butterfly going to have the same tattoo, but she is already dead. Sebestian didn't remember much about her death,

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.