Cthulhu Tattoos Novels & Stories

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.

“As I did before.” The white puppets from outside hurtled toward Stringmaster, gathering around her. Footsteps echoed outside, as if the inmates all stepped toward the cell at once. “Do not test me, sylph.” “I’ll fight back,” she said, holding her ground. “I won’t feel guilty hurting your current human shields.” Her eyes swept over the big man beside her, noticing the tattoos covering his skin. At first glance, the inkwork seemed chaotic—a mishmash of poorly shaded lines and jagged outlines. Sloppy work, she thought. But the more she looked, the more deliberate it seemed. Hidden within the mess were grotesque images—women in chains, women with animals…

There is no point in doing anything right now so I keep quiet. The whole place is filled with scary-looking tattoed dudes. Bored, I started noticing the scary guy's tattoos. It's a skull, a red skull with wings and a cross. The tattoo is bright and dull at the same time. The cross it clutches seems more like a trophy than a symbol of hope, stained with a history whispered only in faded scars. Bright and dull, a paradox mirroring the struggle between survival and surrender. Art sure is fascinating. Someone walked up to him just then. He looks me up and down, "who is this, chick."

I bent over the dead soldier, my heart heavy as I realized that the same tattoo adorned his neck as well. he design was unlike anything I had seen before, yet there was an unsettling familiarity about it, a memory tugging at the edges of my mind. The tattoo depicted a flying demon, its wings outstretched, eyes aglow with an otherworldly luminescence. The level of detail was astonishing, every line and curve capturing the essence of the creature in a way that was both mesmerizing and disconcerting. The artistry was undeniable, but there was an underlying malevolence that sent shivers down my spine.

There are pictures of one of her sex dungeons in her home in Paris, New York, London, and in her very own home, Japan. As I look through each picture, feeling my stomach fuzzy from all these disgusting and disturbing photos, that's when my heart drops, and my eyes grow wide in shock. My hands shake as I enlarge the image with my fingertips. I stare at the tribal tattoo that the Wolfe brothers have. It symbolizes their brotherhood and love for one another as a family who will always protect each other. It's the same tattoo I saw on Seth's right arm. "Terry? Are you feeling okay?"

Picking up my glass, I lightly sipped my alcohol, the stinging liquid coursing through my body. “We have, huh?” I said, putting my glass down with an intensity that made some of the stuff spill out. “Look at these pictures. Notice their hands. They all have the same tattoo on their hands… like the head of a cat or lizard. That must mean something. Find out the mafioso faction or any group with these types of tattoos and get back to me.” “Yes, boss,” he said, standing. He bent to pick up the pictures but I stopped him.

Tyr, Dickson, and Connie walked to the last row of the bus and sat down. The driver was a bare-chested man in his fifties with various Shura totem tattoos on his arms. Someone who had such tattoos was definitely not an ordinary person. He must have gone into a tomb when he was young. The purpose of the tattoos on his body was to suppress the evil spirits in tombs. “Cripple, has everyone arrived yet? It’s almost time.” The bus driver had been checking the time on his watch, as he constantly urged the cripple outside.

I was so speechless, I just jumped on him and he winced, the tattoo was still hurting a bit. My fingers traced another ink one on his shoulder, he got this one after his dad died, in memory of him. "Do you always do this when I'm asleep" Bryne's husky voice jolts me back and I quickly remove my hand from his chest. He frowns and sits up, resting his back on the headboard. He yawns and stretches. I gulp, watching his thick muscle extends and flexes. "Come here" I nod and crawl to his arms obediently. He draws circles on my back and hums an inaudible tune.

I said while fiddling my fingers. "You do not have to thank me. I'd happily eliminate every last one of those cowards from the entire region," he said tightly. I noticed his jaw was set and couldn't help but take in his features. His black hair feathered across his eyebrows and I watched as he ran his hand through it to brush it away from his eyes. His full lips were set in a frown as if he was picturing eliminating the witch hunters in his mind. I also noticed the tattoo that ran from his neck and down to his shoulder. The abstract design framed a triple goddess moon symbol with a dagger that impaled the inner circle. This brought my thoughts back to the night before and Tor's magnificent p

Xander snarls, rejecting her explanation, too angry to see beyond it. “The Order of Three, but those that know about it call it the order.” She unzips her jacket, and her friends match her movements, moving in unison. Together, they pull their collar away from their necks, revealing a tattoo where a mate mark should sit. A triple moon is etched into the skin with black ink. The center moon has a key and arrow crossed with a paw sitting in the center, holding the components in place.