Disney Descendants Tattoo Novels & Stories

We get out of the car and start walking on the sidewalk, "I do like her, but I don't want her to know." "Okay," I roll my eyes. "Are you going to get a tattoo with us, General?" Hunter asks, opening the door to 'Zander's Greatness'. My father shakes his head. "Nah. I'll wait for you guys at that bar,” he points, “While you get your little drawings done." Zander is a bald man covered in ink who has done ten of my tattoos. My favorite ones, the ones that mean the most to me. This time, Hunter and I get the date of our departure tattooed just below the tattoo we got last year, which is the same, just a date. Small and simple.

Unfortunately, it only managed to make things worse. On his eighteenth birthday, he was gifted with a large back tattoo. It was a dragon. It took up his entire back and one of the mythical creature’s claws extended on the back of his neck. He loved it. It was powerful and sexy, and he felt as mythical and untouchable as that dragon himself. His father told him that it was the symbol of their family. He didn’t understand what that meant then. And what it would mean for him in the future. ***

At least they will get to share something special together. My red dress clings tightly to my figure and frames my cleavage, the slit up the side making my family tattoo visible. The tattoo is of a fighting wolf and snake, their bodies entwining around my thigh. It’s our mark of honor as alpha daughters, usually appearing when we come of age. Mine made its debut on the night my mother died.

"I don't have any tattoos. I've never even been in a parlor." The siblings exchanged a confused look. "But you do," Lisa insisted. "Right at the base of your spine. It’s a strange symbol. I saw it when we got you into the pajamas." A feeling of dread drove through me. I didn't have a tattoo when I lived with my stepfather. Was this a mark of my mother’s heritage, or something my wolf, Val, had brought to the surface? Carson stepped closer, his hand reached out to check my temperature.

"And what kind of tattoo does a twelve-year-old want?" "Bears, of course. You've seen it before. The one next to your name." "And your parents let you get a tattoo when you were twelve?" "My mom objected, but there was nothing she could do. My father was the head of the family and I was his only child. There was some kind of responsibility I had to fulfill. The tattoo was a symbol stating that I was the successor to my father's position. A burden that I need to carry." "That's a lot of responsibility for a twelve-year-old."

Below it, I wore faded denim shorts that showed off my long, dusky skinned legs paired with a fashionable pair of black heeled boots that went just above the ankle. So the spreading, navy blue tattoo was clearly visible for the world to see and it formed a tribal tattoo exactly identical to the one Chester had on his chest !! “That’s the mark of my father’s clan,” he revealed. “It is said that only true lovers are able to get exactly identical tattoos which is the rarest of rare case, believe me, specially if the lover is not from the same clan,” he elucidated. “This mark will always protect you and give you my part of the courage and energy if you ever need it when I am not with you. It is

“ Jayden was young but it was the law of the park for the son of the Alpha to get a tattoo at the age of five. I actually got mine at the age of eight because I was scared of the pain I will feel but while I was undergoing the process it was a little painful and ticklish ” “ Do the females also get tattoos ” Muna asked. “ Yes.... Both male and female ” “ Oh... So what about Ryder what age did he get his tattoo ” “ Well I don't know about him, he refused to tell me ” Dexter said with a shrug “ Ryder is just so secretive, you hardly know anything about him because he's just so coded ” “ So you don't know anything about his family too ” “ Actually he's an orphan ” Dexter said and Muna’s eyes go

Emberlynn recognized the design because her mother had sometimes forced her to learn strange things, and the Celtics were one of them. Above the wolf, a crescent moon could hover, and at the base of the emblem, the words "Silver Woods Pack" were inscribed. The tattoo peaking from his arms where he had rolled up his sleeves wasn't helping her perception of him. The weirdest thing of all was she felt as though she had seen the tattoo and emblem before. Yet, she couldn't pinpoint exactly where. "You sure do stare a lot, but you don't talk much. No, you don't talk at all. But I want it the other way around. I want you to talk to me, be free with me," Damien said.

I realized how much I missed him, more than I had admitted to myself. “You really love tattoos,” I remarked as he casually removed his shirt. His back was covered in intricate black and gray tattoos—half a skull, half the face of a crying woman. His shoulders and arms were adorned with shading, letters, and flowers that had intertwined over time. I noticed the names of my parents, mine, and his pack etched on a cross. My dad would have had a fit if I had even a single tattoo.

“The tattoo she’s drawing on your skin will connect you to a bird. You can always send it information.” He held his hand out, showing me the tattoo on his arm. “I have the same one as well. This means the bird is reserved for just you and me. once our use of it is over, the tattoo will naturally fade away” The woman stepped back as she finished. “If you wish to convene it, all you have to do is speak its name, it will answer.” Her voice was gentle, yet carried an air of worship. She turned to my father, eyes searching for confirmation. He gave a slow, solemn nod, the weight of unexpressed memories shadowing his expression. A strange cold ran down my spine, the solemnity of their words sinkin