Dylan Wang Tattoo Novels & Stories

"What is this? Are you insane?" I yelled at him. "I came here to talk to you about the lawsuit about not getting tattooed." I blabbered. "It's you who think throwing the ring would end everything between us." Dylan took my finger in his hand and started carving in my skin. "Dylan.." I almost cried out, but he didn't flinch. He kept drawing something with that tattoo pen on my ring finger. It didn't hurt but I screamed and tried hard to snatch my hand away from him.

I confirmed with my wristwatch that it was still morning, and it’s only a minute away from afternoon, so I guess I can let that slide. “You look so tired.” Nurse Mary added. “Haven’t you been getting enough sleep?” My hands flew to my face as I touched it, yes, she was right, I haven’t been getting enough sleep. “I try sometimes.” I reached for the sticky notes in my pocket. “Forget about me there is a situation, we are on the look for a tall man with tattoo on each side of his neck; the right side has a dragon, the left side has Chinese letters.” “Oh, what does it say?” Nurse Bethany inquired raising a finger. “I can read Chinese characters.”

“One of them had a tattoo on his neck. I couldn’t see it properly, but...” “What kind of tattoo?” I cut in quickly, turning toward her. “A bird,” she said. “I think. I didn’t get a clear look.” My stomach dropped. A bird. Of course! I leaned back slowly, the tension draining out of me all at once, replaced by resignation. “They’re from my former pack,” I said quietly. “The Red Eagle pack.” Aria went still beside me. “…Talia.” “Dylan is going to kill me,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.

I said as he took the bowl before wolfing it down. “Woah there tiger,” I giggled as he set the bowl aside, “Where do you want this tattoo?” He asked as I bite my lip, “On my back,” I replied as he raised his eyebrows, “Okay, and what have you decided on getting?” He asked, causing a smile to appear on my lips, “I was thinking of getting a blossom branch with the word rebirth in Chinese on my side,” I explained causing his eyebrows to raise once again.

Dylan stated sadly. I wonder, what made him so upset. It was the first time I saw him without a smile. “Let’s go inside?” Linc suggested and we agreed. I had English Literature the first period. So did Linc, Dylan and Raf. So we went to our classroom. “Have you seen her tattoo?” Raf whispered to Linc and Dylan. “What? My little princess has a tattoo?” Dylan asked nervously. I laughed and nodded. “Show me!” Dylan whispered. I took away my bracelets again.

Her husband said and I nodded smiling. Lady Krystal stood up and gave me a warm hug before leaving. "See you around later but make sure you enjoy the party." we waved at each other. Dawson's OV: I sat at an isolated path of the hall feeding my eyes with ballroom dance When My phone beep and I bring it out and perfect enough it was Bryan. "Hello Bryan any updates??" . "Yeah boss I've was able to wind out the artist where the dragon fly tattoo was drawn but there are several of it here with various names tagged to it so we need the video so we could make a clarification of which one of them matches the tattoo at the guy's hand."

Davis did have a clear tattoo on his wrist. It was normal for westerners to have tattoos on their bodies, but there was something special about this one— it was a person kneeling on the ground in a pose of worship. Although the face of the man was not clear, Qin Haodong could feel his reverent adoration, as if he was worshiping a supreme man. "Have you ever seen such a tattoo?" Qin Haodong asked Hu Xiaoxian. Hu Xiaoxian shook her head and replied, "No. Does it have any special meaning?"

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

I would remember to show them to her sometime. It made me wonder if she had any or wanted any. Our pack had quite a few talented artists if she did. Jerry, Diana’s cousin, gave me the first tattoo after my family died. It was the names of my mother, father, and little sister within a galaxy scene. I was sixteen at the time and had nine more done by the time I turned eighteen. I got an additional eight over the years and wore them all proudly. They were my story. They were my identity.