Fiona Apple Tattoos Novels & Stories

Mira hissed. “The Alpha of the Nightshade Pack has two daughters! I’m the younger one. My name is Fiona.” I pulled up my right sleeve. Every wolf has a tattoo of their pack’s insignia on their right arm. Those who don’t are the ones excommunicated and banished, the ones who became Rogues. When their eyes landed on my right arm, their brows raised. “I told you,” I smirked. “Yeah you did,” said the one on my right. I glanced at my right arm, and my eyes widened too. The tattoo was no longer there.

“You seem like you will be able to devour a cow.” I chuckled slightly at Fiona’s words, and then I lifted up a glass of wine from the table and gulped down a little quantity before I returned it to the table. “That was a draining experience we had out there, I almost lost my balance.” “Yeah, I just hope we get to eat before we begin again tomorrow,” Fiona said, and then she resumed eating her food. I stared at her for a while, looking at the tattoo on her neck, I loved it. It was a beautiful butterfly of different colors, surrounded by red and blue flames.

Killian rolled his eyes before lifting up his t-shirt. Right at the top of the half of his ‘v’ on the right left side, he got the name ‘Nymph’ tattooed in cursive, with the ‘y’ looping to make a heart. The name was tattooed in a dark blue colour. Next to the name is a paw. He’d gotten the tattoo just over a month ago, against Calypso’s orders, even though she was there when he got it. “What is its significance, though I know it’s got to do with Cally?” Jordan asked.

She pressed her fingers against her temples. Her voice was quick, certain and almost blabbering. Connel's gaze rested on her calmly, his eyes squinted. He let her spill her worries and he moved closer, close enough they seemed tangled. “A tattoo?” He asked, his tone low and measured. “Yes,” Ariel paused. “It was that of a needle and thread, like a reminder of a stitch or a scar. She has a scar right on the same wrist where the ink was drawn.” “A scar.” Connel didn't understand why she was focused on it. “You bump into hundreds of people in this city. Ariel, why does this one matter?” He questioned.

“Yannick 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.

I nodded, letting myself be swayed by the conviction and emotion in his voice. I didn't question why she would wait until twenty-one or why she chose the phoenix, but Icould visualize the big bird on her pale skin, an image so meaningful and strong, for some reason I knew it was a perfect choice and would suit her. Marina seems to have a lot of story to tell. "I'll take you to my tattoo artist, just let me know when you're ready. It will be my gift of gratitude." I speak, more excited than usual. Your eyes shine.

And I was surprised to learn that he also had a tattoo, because no photo showed it. It was the head of a lion at the top of his forearm, whose design was of black and bluish tones, so that it stood out perfectly on his Caucasian skin. Flynn said he still had plans to get more tattoos, but, like me, he had a formed and irreducible opinion about needles: A pain that could be avoided if it was not caused by a vaccine.

Once I got drunk enough with Leo and we ended up in the best tattoo parlour in Kennebunkport, Leo chickened out and we ran away, but the parlour didn’t look half as equipped as this one. “So many machines.” Saph chuckles as she arranges a few things. “Don't worry. They won’t hurt. Just a little sting here and there.” She pats a seat in front of her and I perch myself on it. “What kind would you like? And where?” I blink, I haven’t thought about it before. It only crossed my mind the time about the finger one. “Uhm can I see samples?” She smiled again, her smiles are kind and patient.

[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,

even with my capped sleeve she can see my shoulder is sans tattoo. “I was told to get a discreet one, so it’s disguised on my back.” She looks confused. “What do you mean?” “Apparently, they can work the runes into any pattern or shape, or hide them. Sage designed an amazing phoenix and worked the runes into it. I’ll show you later.” “What?” Her eyes widen. “I just got the boring Task Force circle. You’re telling me I could’ve gotten something nice instead?” I laugh. “Yep. Sorry.” “Man.” She huffs. “That’s unfair.”