Tattoos That Wrap Around Arm Novels & Stories

“is just for fun.” Heat climbed up my neck. “And what’s the fun one supposed to mean?” “You’d have to find out for yourself.” His voice dipped low again, and I swore my heart skipped. One of his friends Ryan grin leaned in then, resting an elbow on the table. “You’re not the only one with ink worth showing off,” he said, tugging up his own sleeve. The tattoo was intricate, swirling with roses and blades, like beauty tangled with danger. The other two joined in, each showing me their designs a phoenix across one’s back that peeked over his collar, a serpent winding down another’s arm in precise, dangerous curves.

She had a tattoo on the exact same spot I did -- one-third in on the forearm, a circle of letters. Except I couldn't really read them. When I looked closer, they felt more like drawings cut before pieced into a line. They looked the same style as Willa's gift to me, but slightly different. "So you have more than one tattoo." "Yeah." Willa shrugged, swinging her leg in the water to show me, "Both wrists and ankles, granny's work. It's for protection." The four of her limbs were all chained up in the same black rings. "Are they runes as well?" I asked, taking her hand off my chest as I looked at it more carefully, "What does it mean?"

“It goes away after a few weeks.” Her eyes lit up. “Can I get one too?” Rosa ruffled her hair. “Of course, princess.” We picked our designs—Rosa chose an intricate floral pattern for her wrist, while I opted for a delicate crescent moon on my ankle. Francesca, of course, insisted on butterflies on both hands. As the artist worked, Rosa smirked at me. “We should get real tattoos next time.” I scoffed. “I don’t think Alaric would be thrilled if I came home with a full sleeve.”

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

His left arm was carved with symbols and shapes and the right arm was totally clear, not a single tattoo was visible. The most beautiful art was a Greek mythological dragon's head on his left chest that trailed down on the left arm then mixed with other tattoos, and a black rose just between the joint of his neck and shoulder. A shiny gold chain was hanging on his chest that made him look more sexy and delicious. It hurts to look at this marvelous man who is rotten and dangerous from the inside and kidnapped me and then tortured me every day. "Like what you see baby?" He smirked devilishly and leaned forward.

He rolled up the first of his sleeves and stretched his hand out so it caught the light. His entire sleeve was a canvas of intricate tattoos, with a clock dominating the design, its inner gears showing and extending down to his wrists. Surrounding the clock was a blooming rose flower, its petals wilting. Delicate rose flowers bloomed around it, their petals hugging the clock, yet also wilting, as if succumbing to the passage of time. Dominating the top part of his hand was what I assumed was an angel, with a dark cloak over his body and a blade buried in his chest

I don't have tattoos, the thought of getting one never crossed my mind. As the needle buzzed, he took my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine. "You inspired this." he whispered and I felt the heat rush up to my cheeks. I felt a soothing sensation go through me, touched by the gesture. About an hour later, Max stepped back. "Done." The tattoo was stunning – really beautiful. Multiple roses were strategically placed along his arm, from elbow to wrist, creating a beautiful, fragmented pattern. “It's beautiful.” I admired, taking a look at his tattoo.

The red scales unlike anything I had seen before, hints of gold looked as if they were painted fresh daily. As I turned my arm over, I could see where it looked as if two tail ends were touching. Resting in the middle was a circle, clearly it was made in the image of the moon. Plopping myself down on the couch to stop my pacing, I traced my tattoo gently with my fingertips. Tadeas had a matching tattoo also on his left wrist. They were simple, elegant, and powerful, I thought. It was hard to explain, having this on my wrist allowed me to feel as if he was always with me.

Like the weird kind of staring that makes you feel like you have something on your face or something in your teeth. “What are you all staring at?” I query. Rian snaps out of whatever fucking trance he’s in and is by my side looking at me weird too. "Baby, when did you get a tattoo on your arm?" Huh? I look down to see what looks like a tattoo on my right forearm of what looks like a sword covered in vines. It's beautiful and intricately done. "Huh, well it looks like this is the blessing from the Goddesses," I murmur.

An artist from the wrong side of the river who didn't belong here. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "A tattoo artist," he said. "That explains the ink. May I?" _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He gestured to my arm, and I extended it without thinking. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> His fingers wrapped around my wrist, cool and precise, turning my arm to examine the tattoos. A geometric mandala on my inner forearm. Script in Sanskrit along the outer edge. A phoenix rising from ashes near my elbow.