Booktok Tattoos Novels & Stories

He had read it so many times that the pages were filled with of fingerprints and the pages had been dog-eared. He started reading the chapter and everything he had read from it began to come back to him. It talked about a tribe of wolves whose leader was ancient and powerful, whose main purpose was to claim territories and packs as his. He usually marked the members of his tribe with a tattoo on any body part they wished. And as Logan read that last sentence, something clicked in his subconscious. A barbaric tribe of wolves. His mother's confusing hatred for the book. The tattoos Aella. What if these three were actually connected?

"What the fu-" "The tattoos." I push the mass of doctors away from her and turn my gaze to her ribcage. There are several small tattoos, but each one is easily distinguishable from the others. The first in the line is a wolf's head with a number eight between the eyes. Next is an arrow, a dagger, two crossed arrows, a gun, and a target symbol.

“Tattoos?” “Yes.” She crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me you’ve lived centuries and never gotten inked. Today’s the day. Come on.” He studied her for a long moment, lips twitching as if amused by her defiance. Then, to her shock, he set the book aside. “Fine. But you’re choosing the design. I’ll only allow you to brand me once.” …. The tattoo parlor smelled of antiseptic and ink. Chloe’s heart raced as she flipped through sketch books, finally settling on a delicate design: a small crescent moon entwined with a star.

Another tattoo: ‘Darkness is real, and it’s the best place to be’ Why would that be the best place to be? “Why are your tattoos sad?” I question, kneading his precious spinous process. “They’re not all sad. Different seasons of my life…” “Were you sad in the past?” He shrugs, a leisurely smile playing on his lips. Another tattoo beneath his neck: ‘Psalm 139:14’ “You’ve got a Bible scripture,” I note out loud. “See. Not all of them are sad. I’ve got two of those.”

Raya felt a flush spread across her skin that had nothing to do with the needle’s sting. “Why a phoenix?” Tobi asked, changing the subject but keeping his voice intimate, as if they were sharing secrets. “Rebirth,” she answered simply. “I went through... a difficult time last year. This is my reminder that I rose from it.” He nodded, his expression softening. “The best tattoos always have stories. They’re not just decoration, they’re armor. History. Promise.” He leaned closer to work on a particularly delicate curve, his breath warm against her neck. Raya’s heart hammered against her ribs, and she was certain he could feel it through the contact points between their bodies.

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”

Chapter 7 "Here it is," Levi said, pulling out a book from the shelf, which read, "The moonlit pack alongside the Same logo on my shoulder. "That's it, it's the exact same" I said, dragging down my shirt off my left shoulder revealing the tatoo. • • • • • • •

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.”

Becky’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Why don’t you let me take away the anger first,” she whispered. “Then we can figure out how to deal with those two.” Her hands moved slowly, deliberately, as she pulled off her shirt, revealing the tattoos etched along the curve of her waist and near her hips. Symbols of power, of blood, of loyalty to a world she was born into. A world that was etched into her so deeply, she could never leave.

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