Voltron Tattoos Novels & Stories

I stuttered and he laughed at me, but there is absolutely no way I am just going to let myself get killed without doing anything. Fine, I cannot even think of fighting back, but then, I can use my mouth, and for once, at least, it comes out as the truth. “If you kill me, it will not be Logan’s loss.” He laughed some more, got up and stretched, his tattoos now visible to my eyes. He has a lion’s head drawn on one arm, and a dragon on the other arm, the other tattoos a couple of wild things. “I am serious. I will not be missed…for real…and…and killing me will only be you taking a burden away from him, and not the other way round.”

But this one has all my work and sketches I have been working on. Including the one I have for the Raider tattoo. " Merigold I know I saw the one you did for Tank and the one on your back. And I'm impressed. But Merigold, these are incredible." he says. He sees the one I wanted to talk to him about. He points to it. “ For dad?” he asks. I just nod. “ Like I said. Incredible. And I will be proud to wear it.” Viper says. I can’t help but smile. He always makes me feel good. "What's incredible?" I turn and see Casper beside me. Viper stands to shake his hand. Viper sits back down and Casper takes the seat across from me. Viper slides my portfolio across the table to him and points. " These are

"When I found out that my body isn't broken as it seemed to be." Keron's eyes were still glued at the video game. He made a fist with his right hand and pumped it in front of his face. The gesture was recognized by his Battle Gear's sensors, prompting it to detract his headgear and release his head. Cool air from the room's air conditioner embraced his bare face. His features were typically islandic Tritonite--dark tan, glowing light blue eyes, tribal tattoos and a shaven head. The insignia of their tribe was imprinted on his left cheek: a snake encircling his left eye like a cane.

I hesitantly accepted and dropped it after one hurried shake of our arms. He immediately turned his back to me and began heading to the center of the sparring ring. When he pivoted around I momentarily caught a glimpse of the back of his neck. I was taken aback when I spotted not one, but a plethora of Molnija marks, small tattoos shaped like lightning bolts coming together in an X. Each tattoo signified a Strigoi kill and was usually accompanied by our Guardian insignia upon entry of service. Many Guardians kept their hair shorter or pulled back to show them proudly. I supposed I had only seen him with his hair down up until that point, but for a moment I couldn't believe my eyes. I started

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.

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."

I stared behind him and the mats gradually grew bigger when I saw what his tattoo was. I held you gently, I even felt him flinch because of that, but he let me go. I noticed the slight tilt of his face as if trying to see me. "Y-you, have the faction's tattoo." I whispered. The symbol of this faction is the fire burning a sword with the wings of a bat. "Like you..." It was almost like a breath. His voice was hoarse as he said that before gently facing me. "Why did you choose that tattoo..." "I want to be the fire that burns the sword of evilness and fear, I want to be brave to protect the person I want. I want to be fearless to face the truth... and I want to have it, to be different ...."

The only word that came to mind was drool worthy. My eyes were drawn to the tattoos that littered his body. The ones that lined his chest and ribs caught my attention and I badly wanted to know what they were. My fingers twitched at my sides wanting to go over there and run them across the tattoos. He threw his shirt off to the side and turned fully towards me. I couldn't stop myself from asking. "What are your tattoos of?" "Oh these." He glanced down at the ones on his chest. "This one," He pointed to the symbol on his left peck. "is the Marine's symbol. And this says 'Move mountains or die trying'." He touched the quote that was on his ribs.

"Not everyone looking for me is as careless as Julian Vane. There are people out there who don't understand the concept of 'surrender.'" He approached me, and even though he walked with a slight limp, his presence was still overwhelming. He stopped in front of the stove, and the light from the fire illuminated the tattoos on his back once more. I was mesmerized by one in particular on his left shoulder blade: an ancient shield intertwined with thorns and an iron crown. It didn't look like the design of a common tattoo parlor; it had the symmetry of an official seal, of a coat of arms that demanded respect.

Each man wore the mark. Different symbols etched into skin: a serpent coiled around a sword on the left forearm of one, twin wolves snarling beneath a bleeding moon on the wrist of another, a skeletal crown on the palm of a third, and a phoenix swallowing its own tail just above the elbow of the last. Each tattoo pulsed faintly, dark and ancient, remnants of an allegiance born of secrecy, ambition, and old blood.