Voltron Tattoos Romane & Geschichten

Tha- He-' His mind was almost refusing to register what was in front of him. Braum slowly raised his hand and pointed towards Christopher his hand shaking, and mouth agap. Everyone followed his finger and jaws dropped. On Christopher's chest was a large tattoo of a Wolfs head with blood dripping from it's fangs. It was The crest of The Black Guard.

After a few clicks, Terrence confirmed his guess. Bingo. It’s a serpent tattoo. A symbol of Sinesteros. “It’s the Sinesteros symbol boss!” Cody excitedly announced. ‘I knew it. This is not just about that woman in the wheelchair.’ Terrence thought to himself. “Strip down their clothes!” Terrence commanded. Conrad and his squad immediately followed and pulled their clothes revealing the tattoos on their arms. Some had it on their chest. Terrence marched with heavy footsteps going in their direction. He took out his 9mm Rapide- Black Ice handgun from his waist and kneeled and pulled one of the men’s hair down and pressed the nozzle of his gun on his chin.

“No.” I said firmly. “I must insist. Yo-” the doctor stepped forward “You touch me with that needle and I won’t be the only one with a concussion.” I threatened. “I saw your tattoo. You can’t be afraid of needles.” Janine said. Damn, I had a massive tattoo of my wolf on my back. She was pure white, which is a symbol of royalty. “What is your tattoo of?” Axel asked.

The click of the seatbelt seems to seal me into his control. He slams the door shut with a deafening clap, his powerful frame filling the car as he starts the engine. My eyes are drawn to the intricate symbol tattoos adorning his bulging muscles, and I cannot help but feel both intimidated and mesmerised by them as they start to writhe and twist, moving across his skin as if alive. “Why do your tattoos move?” I whisper, my face unconsciously inching closer to his. His dark eyes meet mine, sending a shiver down my spine. “They’re ruins,” he answers gravely. “Tobin cast them to ward off dark magic.” I can’t tear my gaze away from the pulsating marks on his skin. “But why do they move?” I wonde

Oh, did I mention he was only wearing his boxers? His upper torso was on full display as he turned over strips of bacon and eggs. He had a howling wolf head tattooed on his chest, right over his heart with the text “Wolf Riders” written under it. His entire right arm was covered in an intricate pattern of tribal black tattoos as well as part of his chest and shoulder. There was a weeping angel stretched between his shoulder blades and across his neck was his name. All of which moved with him like a living art piece, making me even more aware of every rippling muscle and hard plate this god-like man had. His toned stomach and wide chest. I was a bit surprised when I saw he didn’t have a six-p

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.

His face contorts with pure rage as his mouth mumbles, "This track isn't over! Stiles and Derek, my claws will make sure you both pay dearly for this!" The next morning dawns bright and clear over the mountains. I am practicing my ancient Shadow Fang Warrior movements in a private courtyard atop the Moonlit Sanctuary, with my upper body bare to the wind. My tall, lean frame displays perfectly proportioned muscles across my chest, arms, and abdomen from years of intense physical training. An intricately detailed black wolf head tattoo sprawls across my chest, looking fierce and majestic in the sunlight. Unlike typical pack tattoos, this one is a deep, vivid black with blood-red eyes that seem

He also told me where he buried her. “Why are you telling me about this story?” I asked curious more than being afraid of him. “Because you are going to be my twenty-second Daisy.” “But you can’t kill me.” He looked surprised that I read between the lines of his story. “Yes, I can’t kill you. You see my therapist told me to get someone to talk to and I met your grandfather. He—” “What did you feel when you kill them?” “Why?” The man chuckled, “You know what, let me tell you about the story of my tattoo!” He removed his shirt revealing a tattoo of a huge dragon on his arm. “This is Vrtra. He’s the dragon that caused drought to many nations on old—’

His face contorted with rage as he mumbled, "This isn't over! Dylan and Andrew, I'll make sure you both pay for this!" The next morning dawned bright and clear. Andrew was practicing martial arts in a courtyard atop Moonlit Sanctuary, with his upper body bare. His tall, lean frame displayed perfectly proportioned muscles across his chest, arms, and abdomen. An intricately detailed black dragon head tattoo sprawled across his chest, fierce and majestic. Unlike typical tattoos, this one was a deep, vivid black with blood-red eyes. Any expert would have been shocked to see it, as this particular design represented one of the most powerful families in Holtriens.

Her eyes swept over him slowly. From his lean, muscular torso, down the ridges of his abdomen, and across his inked chest…and that was when she saw it. A tattoo. One she hadn't noticed until now. It started from beneath his left collarbone, curling like smoke across his pec, down his ribs, wrapping over his left shoulder and down the length of his arm. It wasn’t just art..it was storytelling ink, a tapestry of symbols and sharp lines. A Roman centurion stood at the heart of it, helmet tilted upward with a stare to the heavens. Surrounding him, a serpent curled and bled into feathers, and beneath it, Latin script ran along the bottom edge like scripture.