Feyre Tattoos Novels & Stories

maybe the curse on it had settled down when she came into the pack, maybe she was less abnormal. She closed her eyes waiting for her kara to touch the tattoo, she felt shift and go to her back, her hand touched her neck and it felt hot, the same hot feeling that made her weak “ ouch! ” Freya hissed as Kara’s hand shifted away in fear she had damaged Freya’s body “ Freya are you ok!” Kara called to Freya in a panic

Tears trickled down Fel's rosy cheeks. I jerked her forward. "Say it, Fesel. Tell me you are my Queen. Tell me you belong to me and only me." "You're my King," she whimpered. "I belong to you and only you." The pressure against my fingers ceased and the heat inside me traveled through my fingers into her body. Lines danced across her chest from the area where my fingers sprout energy into her. Green neon lights flickered into the tattoo-like drawings. Dark pink and green scales covered her chest, and I caught a glimpse of what she would look like in her true form.

I hoped I didn’t need any clothes, since marking usually involves being naked and I liked getting fucking naked with April. Fox took off, following that sweat ass scent of April. She smelled like a type of baby Vaseline. I know it’s fucking weird, but I love that smell. It reminds me of getting a tattoo, I used to rub it on my tattoo’s to make them heal better. Didn’t need it anymorw though, because I got two new ones last week and I healed in a fucking day. One was a tattoo of Princes Leia in a cartoon style. For my own princess. And then I got Leia’s and Oliver’s birthday’s on my arm. I didn’t have much fucking skin left.

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.”

She's always liked tall guys with dark hair and maybe a few tattoos. We laugh a lot as we discuss the men we've dated and how bad they were. She admits she's a virgin. i tell her I am, too. I even say it's a great thing in our world she doesn't seem convinced. We get to the tattoo shop, and we pick two tattoos, one we each will get on our wrist and one that we pick for our selfs. The one on our wrists is a tattoo of two wolf shadows howling at the moon, and the one I get that's just for me is a colorful dream catcher on my shoulder blade. I was done before Annalise, but it was ok because she had designed and drawn her own tattoo, and I got to watch them finish it. I was at a loss for words.

Nobody but me and the tattoo artist saw it, I'm careful to keep it hidden from the eyes of Mom and the photographers, which was easy since I rarely go to the beach or pools. "Freedom." I answer and she doesn't ask for more explanations. "It's beautiful." She says, a different glint appears in her eyes and I feel like she has a secret passion for tattoos. “When I turn 21, I'll make a phoenix on my back." I nodded, letting myself be swayed by the conviction and emotion in his voice.

[Faye] A woman sits before me on a simple bench of dark wood, polished mirror bright, gleaming in the moonlight. Her long nails, tapered to points, tap against the hilt of the sword that lay across her lap. It is a grand sword, a ruby the size of a robin’s egg set into a steel pommel. A blue glow emanates from the sword blade, reflecting the moonlight into her face, casting it in a sharp, ghostly relief. She is draped in black leather armor, molded to her form as a second skin. Her hair is an inky red, like cut gemstones, or congealed, dried blood. She is watching me, and as I look up her eyes rest on mine. She has eyes the color of lavender and crushed violets, ringed in amethyst. Her ears,

"Why? I want to—" "Let go, Felix." Noticing the pitch of her voice, I unwrap my arms but Brynn remains with her back turned to me, and feeling daring, I slip a hand underneath the shirt, caressing the smoothness of her back. "I like your tattoo. Why did you get it?"

I whisper more towards myself. The tattoo is of no ordinary design. The intricate details almost seem inhumanly made. Swirls of dusty-grey storm clouds surround a midnight-blue sword. They begin at the handles and spiral throughout the golden blade. Behind the sword lays black and blue tip wings. Each feather tip is like a tempestuous addiction. The closer I come, I want to touch it. Visions of the wings wrapping around me, never allowing me to escape, consume my thoughts. I look up at Raquel and shiver, not understanding how a tattoo could be so powerful.

"Yevgeniy saw the kids born from those women as assets. The boys would go on to become his boeviki, and the girls ... Well, we had other uses." We? Did she just say we? My eyes widen as I hold my breath. She straightens up, advancing on me with purpose. I start to stand, but she's faster. She kneels in front of me, ripping open her jacket and shirt to expose the skin on her right shoulder. Pressed into it is a tattoo of a fox sitting on its haunches. Its black body is surrounded by thick, detailed chains. One look, and I can tell that the tattoo has been there for a long time.