Cthulhu Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

He fully pulled off the shirt as his muscles flexed, revealing the tattoo of the snake on the skin of his back. Sophia swallowed as she stared at the tattoo. It was the exact same type she'd seen on his cousins' wrists that night in the coffee shop. Just that the one on his back was a bigger one with its fangs out as if ready to bite its prey. She didn't know if it was just her eyes betraying her or not but the tattoo of the snake had a darker shade of black on it. She blinked and turned her face away with a furious blush when Chase spoke up.

She slowly started walking her fingers across my chest and tracing my tattoos. “I like these.” She said as she continued to trace them. I had the wilderness I love tattooed across my chest and arms. Bear, deer, birds, owls, rabbits, badgers and of course wolves all amongst the trees and forest that they lived in. “Oh yeah. What is your favorite?” I asked lightly.

Did he find something? "I was checking the bodies to see if I could find any clues and see what I found!" He shouted excitedly and Claire walked towards him. She crouched down next to Nathan and looked at what he was pointing, only to frown when she saw a tattoo on the man's chest. It was of a howling wolf and a Crescent moon. Well, they were werewolves and if a guy had a wolf and moon tattoo, she didn't understand how it would be of any importance. Why was Nathan this excited for that?

My focus glued to this stranger and my heart beating through my chest with the sensation I’m being chased, stalked, or hunted. He's exactly as the visions showed. Perfect as a man, with good looks, and sculpted physique, a presence that screams dominant alpha male. He’s muscular and tall, covered in black Aztec tattoos which are there for all to see as he once again turns towards us. The large blazing sun sign of the hunter on his left peck, right where I hoped it wouldn’t be and it seals his fate. The symbol has not changed in hundreds of years, and even though this is a tattoo and not burned, carved cruelly on the skin of the hunter, it’s still exactly as it’s always been.

Cassandra's POV “Tell me what you think,” Chris held his breath as my fingers moved to touch the tattoo on his back. Oh God, I've seen this tattoo so many times, but in this messed up state, I'm saying that I want to see it. “You... when did you get this tattoo?” I stared at the bird's eye on his back—the eagle and the snake. Chris had a tattoo of an eagle wrapped around a snake, so the two seemed to be competing to outdo each other. From a distance, I hadn't really noticed that there was a snake in this tattoo, but it turned out that the snake clutching the eagle looked very real when approached.

I bow my head, pretend to focus on the screen. "You were staring," he says in a low, amused voice. He leans against my desk, arms crossed, towering over me. "My tattoos interest you?" I shake my head, too quickly. "No, I… it's nothing." He chuckles softly. "Liar." He pulls up the left sleeve of his t‑shirt, revealing more of the raven and other symbols: a miniature cathedral, eight‑pointed stars, Cyrillic numbers. "Every design has a story. The raven… it's for memory. For those we've lost, but never forget. The stars are rank. The cathedral… the faith you keep even when everything else goes to hell."

It was clearly a sore subject. His breath was deep now, his chest rising and falling slowly. Kate’s eyes traveled to his chest tattoo; a black and grey skull with a snake constricting it covering the majority of his left pectoral muscle. It continued across his shoulder and down his left bicep. She wondered if it had any significance, deciding to ask him when he awoke.

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.

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.”

Giovanni turned his back on me, my eyes were on the giant snake coloured tattoo that covered his whole back, I was still staring at the tattoo before he disappeared into a closed door. I settled back, eyes closed, palms resting on the table, and let my mind wander to Giovanni's canvas of tattoos. The intricate snake on his left neck caught my attention first – its delicate scales seeming to slither across his skin. My gaze, though imaginary, traced the vibrant, full-back serpent, its red and black hues dancing in mesmerizing harmony. Next, my mental focus shifted to the cobwebs delicately etched onto his broad neck, their subtle complexity a testament to the artist's skill. The bold, cursive