Ulquiorra 4 Tattoo Novels & Stories

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

I see the Kanji symbol, its line is like the sun on his back. "That's the tattoo? Seriously? I don't want it." I said and shook my head I don't want that tattoo because it's so ugly! "Me too, I don't want it." Augustin said as he touched the symbol on Hideo's back. "That's all Daddy Morfeo!" Hideo said as he faced us again.

she rolled her eyes after seconds of understanding. She knows how to amuse me and it makes me smile every time she talks back. Apparently, she stopped me from getting out of this clinic. She bombarded me with cursed words that makes Louis and Lucio exit the room immediately. They must not know how feisty she is in terms of not listening to her words. In the end, I accept defeat and stayed and let Lucio take care of what I told them to do. My smile slowly fades away. I saw the tattoo of the bearded man. A cross with a snake lingered around the center of the cross. It's the tattoo of Union Corse. The gang of my twin brother, Delimer.

The four types of tattoos were the Alpha tattoo, the Beta tattoo, the Zeta tattoo, and the member tattoo. My tattoo had seven moons at the top of my back with two versions of the Helm of Awe on each shoulder blade. In the middle of my back was Yggdrasil, the tree of life with a wolf head coming out of the roots. Finally, below the wolf and running down my spine was my name in Old Norse. In the middle of Yggdrasil’s branches, the Alpha sign of our pack was cleverly blended in.

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.

I gasped seeing a bold writing on his chest, above where his heart was located. It was my name. ALORA. He had my name tattooed on his chest! My eyes lowered seeing him tug down his sweatpants a bit and on his waist, some words were written in Spanish “yo pertenezco a alora” (I belong to Alora) Tears filled my eyes. “You…” “I want to get more words tatted on me, more words that reminds me of you. Maybe I should have your name tatted on my forehead.” I laughed, tears falling from my eyes at the same time.

“No escape, my friend.” Both men froze. A tall figure stepped out from behind a container, the harsh light catching the ink on his left arm—an unmistakable tattoo. A serpent coiled around a skeletal hand. The mark of La Mano Rojas. Nikolai’s eyes went wide, terror flashing like lightning. Igor’s hand twitched, subtly signaling the nearby guards to stay sharp.

"Are you Mulan?" The Snake tattoo is the common tattoo for Kolara tribal women, every woman has it. "Yes! One and only..." She was cool, I liked her nature. "Rotero gave me your contact. He said you will help me to settle." I informed and she frowned. "Rotero will not send any random person to me... Who are you?" She was confident. "I am Mallika... No, sorry. I am Miguel" I was nervous by her interrogation. "You don't know your own name?"

Inscribed across his biceps was a black shield bearing the image of an ivory two-headed eagle hovering over five yellow circles that are in the shape of an inverted V. Danica placed her clothes on the footstool at the end of the bed and raised her hand to touch his arm, glancing at Lorenzo for permission. *********** *LORENZO* I held my breath as she traced the outline of my tattoo, her finger skirting across my skin, her light touch echoing through my body, toward my groin, and I suppressed a groan. “Did it hurt?” I grimaced. “I could endure the pain. Are you interested in getting one?”

And I am still alive enough to watch his shadow crawling on the rooftop. I pulled out my phone the way a cardsharp pulls an ace, thumb slick from nerves. The screen glowed like a secret lit on fire. I typed one line, attached the screenshot, and hit send. “Did my father’s men wear this mark?” The tattoo stared back at me from the image like it knew I’d ask eventually. Ouroboros around a caduceus—classic. The reply came fast. Too fast. “Where did you see this?” That was the thing about awkward questions—they always got lonely fast. Especially the dangerous ones.