The Exorcist Tattoo Novelas e Histórias

Finding his gaze unnerving, she instantly flickered her gaze down. Her cheeks flushed when she realized he wasn’t wearing any shirt. His rugged body resembled a canvas. A number of tattoos spread across his tanned chest. There was a tattoo of a serpent designed on his upper left chest and the other side had roman numbers written on it. Her eyes traveled down his bulging biceps and paused at a tattoo that caused her a tinge of discomfort. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed the evil symbol, a sigil of Baphomet branded on his bicep. Being a devotee of god, the discovery scandalised her. Why would anyone get that? Not a moment later, she realized it wasn’t the only one, he also had an un

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.

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

They are just petty and if you look closely you can see that they are divine souvenirs, just another way to let everyone know that I belong to no one but the Gods. I bring my hand up to my face on the left side. My tattoo was still there, I touch it and see it start to move. I can feel like it's not just a tattoo but a living snake, its sticky and icy touch makes me shiver. The energy that comes out of her radiates and then from all the scars begins to emerge rose bushes, but it is not of the same energy that the Mark of Lestat brings me, no, these are more primal, more ancient, more difficult to control, for it is an exchange that if I let myself be carried away could easily be consumed.

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.

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she noticed the tattoo of a horse on his neck which was mostly concealed by his shirt. "This is one of Christopher Stallion's men," she said. "What?" "Look at him," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "That is impossible," the governor incredulously. "My men are all trusted men." "But he has the tattoo of a horse on his neck. It would interest you to know that Stallion has a similar tattoo, and so does every member of his gang. Do you doubt it? I have a tattoo of a scorpion on my back because I am a Black Scorpion. All the members of the gangs have tattoos on their bodies."

Alex bit his tongue and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the Stake of Exorcism. Condensing his Chi onto his fingertip and using blood as a medium, he scribbled a bloody rune onto the stake. Then, he spat out another mouthful of blood onto Serena’s belly. “Seal!” In the next moment, Serena was surprised to find that the huge black spot on her belly started to disappear at a speed that was visible to the naked eye. Wisps of black smoke came out of her belly and entered the Stake of Exorcism. A few moments later, the black spot on Serena’s belly button had disappeared completely.

I tried so hard not to flush when I saw his naked torso; it was a sight to behold. Broad wide shoulders with lots of muscles, defined strong abs and on his left pectoral, there was a scary tattoo of a three-headed vicious dog, surrounded by flames. And a lot of scars were all over his abdomen. On his back, there was a full back length tattoo of some sort of grim reaper, angel! His grunts again brought me back from dreamland. I shook my head, clearing it; I gently touched the wounded area on his right, trying to understand what I was dealing with.

She was shy away and hid her in my chest. I placed her in a hot shower, pressing her back to me and kissed her neck. I was stunned when I opened my eyes. There was an old Italian tribal tattoo on her neck. What is it doing here? It was an arrow design with a crown holding double letter A. It was a symbol of the deity of death.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.