Flash Ghostface Tattoo Novels & Stories

What in the world? I see a small crowd of angry faces egging them on. Why isn’t anyone stopping this? A girl yells, “Kick the crap out of him, Gaston! Show the royal punk werewolves aren’t to be messed with!” The wind ruffles Sapphire Eyes’s short, glossy brown hair, making it look like he's doing one of those shampoo commercials that make you wish you had better hair. I notice a tattoo on his back: large, black tribal markings that zigzag across his shoulders and go down to the middle of his back in a complicated pattern. When he throws another hard blow, I whistle to get their attention. Andddd it’s ignored. I sigh and make my way toward them.

the unknown boy answered me, and I was shocked to see his face. I was shocked not because he is good looking, I was shocked because he has a tattoo on the side of his eyes near his left eye, it looked so good on him, and I was shock to also see him having lip piercing, dang, Zoe would feel happy to see someone having lip piercing too.

This is most likely symbolized by the two letters C in the center of the tattoo design. "I don't know any of you!" Shane said after quickly looking at the faces of the four. "Is that so? Alright." Jacoben turned to the guy who seemed the youngest of them all. "Let's help her remember." The guy’s corner lips rose. "Sure!" In a few seconds, his skin’s color changed. It became pitch black, like a shadow. His pupils dilated, almost covering the white on his eyes. Then he raised his forehead and looked straight at Shane.

*FREYA* Three others circle around me, growling at me. I try to scream but no sound comes out. Then the air changes. He steps out of the shadows. And everything else fades. To my utter bewilderment, he is —naked. His long dark curls touch the sharp angle of his jawline. His lashes sweep across his high cheekbones as he blinks. A tattoo of a wolf baring it's fangs at the moon sits proudly on his shoulder blade.

After I shower, I opt for a wife beater and a pair of loose-fitting shorts. My right forearm is still scabbed over from my latest tattoo. Every time I look at it, I am proud that I now have my pack displayed on my body. It had taken me a while to draw out the design just the way I wanted it to look. It depicts a full moon coming up over a hazy horizon. A wolf's head with bright red eyes is baring its teeth as it emerges forth from the moons' surface.

CINNAMON He stood shirtless in the cabin's warm light, and I couldn't stop staring. There was a freaking tattoo of my face, inked slightly left, centered over his heart. Not some generic artistic interpretation, my actual face. The artist had captured the slope of my nose, the curve of my lips, even my thin eyebrows. Below it, my name was written in my own handwriting. The looping C, the way my n's always tilted slightly right, the flourish on the final n that I'd developed in high school and never lost, all accurately inked.

I shake my head in laughter as we walk to the tattoo shop. We make our selves comfortable, the seats are warm, someone probably just left, this place is crazily crowded, I breath in, and I freeze, I smell Fiona's perfume, I shake my head, I'm going crazy. The tattoo clown gets to work, Zayn gets Zoe on his left wrist, and he gets destiny on his free arm. I seat "I want. . ." I think "Destiny." Zayn grins at me "Welcome to the geng, Bro."

The tattoo was of a floating skull with thorns coming out of the eye socket and the hole for the ears. It was truly an interesting depiction, I thought to myself, and started to flick his nipple until he woke up. The part that woke up, however, was his dick, not him, making me laugh and lightly smack at him until his eyes fluttered open. "Am I not going to see this Roman?" I asked, wondering when we would go.

My black fitted tee coming in view. The guy looked at me with an emotion I had known for years, lust. Tsking, I stretched my muscles, producing a pop sound. The crowd roared again making my body twitch in excitement. Taking a step closer, I saw his face filled with scars. A tattoo leaked out of his collar---Black rose with snake. “Back off girl or you’ll lose a limb.” He hissed. "Name?"

"It's just needles, Cheryl." "Yeah, absolutely not. I have a phobia of needles," I said, gripping my arm. "It won’t hurt that much, I promise. You’ll barely feel it," she assured me. After a ridiculous amount of back and forth, I finally decided to face my fears. I held onto Anna for dear life through the hardest thirty minutes of my existence while the tattoo artist inked Miles Jun-ho Han onto my skin, right above my ribs, with a small purple butterfly beside it—a symbol of how he made me feel.