Sparrow Tattoo Sailor นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Most children would be afraid to step inside a tattoo studio, what with the humming of the gun and the heavily tattooed staff that worked here but when I was a kid, this was my favourite place to visit because it was so bright and colourful, from the beautiful designs that cover the walls, showcasing the artist's work, to the rainbow striped chairs, desk and the sparkly, white tiles that shimmer rainbow colours under the florescent lighting. The sound of the tattoo gun buzzing travels down the hall, and I imagine what Adrian is having designed on his body today and where. When Jupiter and I had spotted him at the beach, I did notice a small falcon on his back, between his shoulder blades, al

he spits. I squat down to his level. I raise my shirt and there, just above my waistband on my hip, is the Damned Forsaken crest of a raven with a skeletal wing and head sitting atop a skull with a halo leaning against it on one side and a gun on the other. His eyes widen in acknowledgment.

“Enjoy your stay. But hey, word of advice? Steer clear of the Red Zone if you’re really just here for the sauna. Unless you want more than a quiet night, of course. In that case, the Red Zone’s your best bet.” “The Red Zone?” “It’s on the far end. Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.” With a wink, he turns and walks off, flip-flops slapping against the tile. That’s when I catch the enormous tattoo spanning his entire back—a bird, wings spread wide, talons out. A hawk.

Paul added, obviously uncomfortable with the tears. I covered my whole face as I hunched over slightly, sobbing into them. A sign of an elite warrior, one that had been trained and passed their tests, was a tattoo. It spread from shoulder, across the back and to the other shoulder. Each one was slightly different, tailored to the warrior but within a pack, there was always a specific design. It meant the world to me that they would gift me this. “Skylar.” Someone took my hands and held them. Carl was on one knee in front of me. He was smiling as reached up and brushed tears from my cheek.

He preferred it that way. Beta Remus entered the hall and sniffed appreciatively. His black eagle tattoo peeked out from the collar of his shirt. In a pinch, he could release the inky bird and it would take flight, providing reconnaissance from above. Each pack member's tattoo, received upon turning sixteen, transformed into a unique animal providing a unique gift. Only one wolf could claim each creature.

I said. "Much more," Marisol said. "The spiral is already being used in posts about Hidden Stitch. People are drawing it. Tattooing it." She paused. "Three people have already gotten it as a tattoo." I looked at the phone. At the spiral. At Noah's caption. At seventy three thousand. "He designed a brand symbol that people are tattooing onto themselves," I said. "He's five years old," Marisol said. "And yes." I put the phone down.

Maris staggered backwards, her vision becoming blurry with clouds of tears as her chest heaved. "You all know what the sirens did to this kingdom, they brought us heartache and-" The queen didn't get to finish her sentence because Maris shut her out by staring blankly at the mark on her wrist. It looked like it had been drawn with an ink to achieve the looks of a tattoo. Unconsciously, her fingers trailed lines on it. It mirrored the looks of the sun, but in this manner; there was a full stop surrounded by six apostrophes in black ink.

"I like that bike and it belongs to me." Darren was tall, towering over all the soldiers in the room. Despite his rugged appearance, there was a softness to his features that hinted at a gentler side. His eyes were warm cobalt blue, and the naughty smile on the side of his lips indicated that he didn't give a fuck about everyone who would stay in his way. His arms were strong and lean, with bulging biceps and defined veins that ran the length of his forearms. But it was his back that truly caught my attention. A magnificent eagle, wings outstretched, was tattooed across his broad expanse of skin. Its feathers were intricately detailed, with each one a masterpiece in its own right.

The easily six inch wide wreath of monkshood surrounding the bird is what has set my beast off. “Well?” she asks, her voice muffled by the pillow and her arm. “Right here…” I trace the sparrow, “is a sparrow.” “Like what you call me?” her delight is evident in her voice. “Yes baby. The greeks believed it to symbolise deep love and connection.” My finger drifts to the deadly wreath encircling the little sparrow.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.