Yasuke Tattoo Novels & Stories

It stung, but I bit my lip and kept going. I noticed the tray I had brought earlier was still there—barely touched. I stacked the remaining dishes and started arranging them back on the cart when the sliding door behind me creaked open. And there he was. Ryoushin. He stepped out, barefoot, wearing a plain white shirt and gray shorts. His tattoos wrapped around his arm like wild ink flames, trailing all the way to the back of his hand. I hadn’t noticed them earlier. I guess I’d been too distracted by his eyes. His presence. His mystery.

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.

my mother introduced to me. Itsuki was an attractive male from Nippon who could have been... in fact a male idol. His aesthetic ran similar to one of the modern ages. With an oversized denim jacket and black jumpsuit. He matched his outfit with combat boots. He had the rich dark hair of his ancestors and pale skin. His hair was cut just into his eyes that hid how dark they were from me. Itsuki's mate was Aoki. I could sense it. They were paired entirely by fate herself.

"Patience. All will be revealed." Another limousine pulled up alongside theirs. The door opened, and Kazuya Takeda, the leader of the Yakuza gang, stepped out. He was a tall man with a commanding presence, his sharp suit immaculate. He entered the limousine, taking a seat beside Nakamura. "Marcus," Kazuya began, his voice smooth, "I am Kazuya Takeda, leader of the Yakuza here in Philadelphia." Marcus's gaze didn't waver. "I know who you are. But tell me, if you're Japanese, why the Korean name?"

Kazuha says in surprise. “Uh-huh” Ryosuke agreed as they watched their new friend eat toffee with much vigor. “Did you not get to experience this as a kid?” Kazuha said. He stopped to look at them. “I did not. I was raised to be one of the Hui Yuan assassins under the employment and contract of the Yamaxun Xiang tribe. I was taught how to fight and taught to read my surroundings and environments but this isn’t one of them.” Wencheng said.

I asked myself as I backed away weakly and nervously looking at the two Koi tattoos behind him. 'It's a Koi… Yin Yang… And the tattoo on her back isn't a moon.'

When she flicked her gaze to him, he gave her a smile to alleviate her nerves. Sakura sighed in response and returned his smile. She also didn’t miss the fact that he was extremely hot with his dark hair in a messy style, wearing a pair of loose white trousers and a white shirt that was left unbuttoned, showing off his toned chest and six-pack abs. Not to mention the tattoo on his chest, featuring the sakura flowers and the word snow. Her eyes lingered on the tattoo as her heart began to race and her stomach fluttered deliciously. When she lifted her gaze back to his face, she noted the dark passion exuding from those beautiful mauve-gray eyes of his.

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.

I believe I have already played that role in Layla’s little twisted fairytale. Never again. A thick, burning cigar is trapped between Ryker’s lips, and the smoke from it reminds me of Daddy's tobacco pipe. Ryker looks every bit the menace his reputation claims him to be: definitely a tall wall of built muscle and decorated with scars inflicted by backstories that I don't want to hear. Asides the scar on his cheek, there are several others that are jagged deep marks crisscrossing the skin of his neck like a cruel map and running down the side of his neck, disappearing beneath the black shirt he is wearing. His knuckles look bruised, rough, and a serpent tattoo coils up his right forearm. Ther

– a Japanese man in an expensive suit says. He was obviously Yakuza due to his visible, colorful tattoos, which went from the side of his neck to probably covering his entire back. - If it were in better circumstances, perhaps. - How can we help you? - You know as well as I do what I came here to do. Would you mind getting out of my way and letting me pass? – I say coldly. - A woman like Miss Scoot would make a perfect wife for someone like me. It's a shame you chose the wrong groom. – the man says, with a mischievous smile.