Klaus Mikaelson Tattoo Novels & Stories

I replied firmly, letting Miles know I won't be changing my mind. Miles doesn't even hesitate before agreeing to the terms. He slides his shirt off his head, exposing his chiseled chest and long muscular tattooed arms. I notice a fresh-looking tattoo on the left side of his chest, right about his heart. I can't make out the words, but the picture is one black and one white angel wing. "New tatt?" I ask, nodding my head towards his chest. "I don't know," he replies flirtingly, "how about you come and take a look."

He had his dad's charm and maybe something darker and evil than his dad that no one knew. Lucifer had many guys working under him; if his workers dared to double-cross him, they would pay with their lives. His guys all had to have a tattoo with the MF. Letters. Their tattoo was unique a dagger in a heart and thorns with dripping blood engraving MF. Some chose to wear it on their neck and arms, while others decided to have it tattooed across their chest. Joshua had a different type of tattoo, also mafia but chose to be unique, the same as his dad.

“Not constellations of teenage girls, Ms. Cruz. Men who keep their hands in their pockets like they’re used to having something else there.” I stare. He swipes. Another clip. I'm going into a radio station, sunglasses on, hood up. Same men on the corner, smoking, not smoking, watching. My skin crawls. “You’re making this up,” I say. He scrolls back and freezes on a close‑up. It’s enough resolution to see the tattoo peeking over one man’s collar. A sigil I don’t recognize. But he does. “This one’s with the people who killed my mother,” Kael says. “They don’t watch for fun.”

The whole inside looks like a gothic forest. Maxim, Azazel’s bouncer, meets me at the door. Maxim is extremely intimidating with his six-foot-seven frame and bodybuilder’s muscles. His shiny bald head, sharp nose, small eyes, and large eyebrows make him look like he’s going to tear you apart. He has this really freaky tattoo of a skeleton tattooed on the back of his head. Come to think of it, most of the guy’s body is tattooed. Well, at least the parts I can see. “Hey Kell, what brings you by?” He pulls me into his chest and slaps me on the back.

They practiced, took a break, and practiced some more. Aside from Cassiel's hot and steamy routine, she found something interesting. It was Zacharias' tattoo. It was a bit blurry in some of the videos. But in one of the clips, where Zacharias takes a look at the gifts, his left ring finger has a tattoo. It was like a permanent wedding band. It was a simple line around his finger that may seem subtle and lowkey. But if it’s on the left ring finger then it would send in a pretty obvious message.

In his right hand, he held the familiar silver dagger, its blade gleaming dangerously. But as the rebel assassin took a step toward my bed, his left hand reached up to his own collar. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled the fabric down, exposing his spine to the mirror on the wall behind him. My breath completely trapped itself in my throat, and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, seared into the skin of the ruthless Omega rebel's back, was a glowing, crimson brand. A perfect, permanent tattoo of my own true initials. MW.

It’s indeed impossible because the tattoo on the mysterious man’s neck, which is a snake’s head with a tongue sword, belongs to a group working underground. The Shadow Maulers. The guard zoomed closer and proved that Kiel wasn’t mistaken. It’s really the tattoo that represents this one group. Their names got buried and forgotten as the time passed by, but seeing that they were back in action again. This is another threat.

The revelation about the masked man having a dragon tattoo had struck a chord within him, sending his thoughts spiraling. A surge of memories flooded his mind, memories he had tried to bury deep within his consciousness. The image of a fierce dragon tattoo, its intricate design etched upon a powerful Lycan King's arm, resurfaced in his thoughts. Xander knew all too well the significance of such a mark. It was a symbol of authority, a mark reserved for those who held immense power within the Lycan community.

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.

She was trying to appease me and mend a bond that had broken so long ago. "Would you do it again, if you had a choice?" Malakai watched me for a second longer. Poured himself another glass of scotch and dumped the empty bottle in the bin behind the counter. As he stretched over it, I could see the start of a tattoo on his side. The ink looked like branches of a tree, wrapped around the front of him. He settled back into his seat. And I could breathe again. Because my mind also caught the start of a V-line and it would be hard to forget.