Medusa Crying Tattoo Novels & Stories

It is not visible to the eyes of ordinary people but to those of us who belong to the atypical ones, it can be seen as a blue runic tattoo. This is also proof of how powerful Mama Amelia is. Because of this seal, it was able to hide the fragrance of Moon Drip that had been in my blood since immemorial. The seal kept me safe and somehow gave me the chance to be normal. But despite that, I still can't help but worry. How many times did I ask myself when I got home if my persecutors had found me? If the momentary presence of the black witch earlier had anything to do with me? But when I see the seal still on my right wrist, I somehow calm myself down.

"Yeah. I'm ready," Seira nodded. She moved back. "Okay. First, before I ask about the lady downstairs. I want to know why my tattoo feels itchy," With her words, she stretched her hand out and Hunter looked down at the lotus flower tattoo, concealing the half-moon mark on her wrist. "Itchy?" Seira nodded. "Yes. It glowed too, a couple of times then it got itchy, so bad I nearly scratched off my wrist," Hunter stared blankly, trying to come up with the best explanation, and when he did. He sighed. "Seem like you are really the half of the Marshall. Tell me, have you felt linked with anyone, an Omega? Did you feel connected somehow?"

He was alone this time. "I know you must be wondering how your tattoo disappeared all of a sudden. I remember I told you it's not just a tattoo, it's a magical one. It can hear, see and talk when angry. And I also remember I told you I won't let any harm come to you but it's like you never trusted me. I saw how your mom was heartbroken after seeing your tattoo and then guessed she might tell your dad about it and bring trouble to you. You are my best friend, protecting you is my pleasure. So now wake up and have a physical look at me. Find me in your washroom if you really want to see me."

Medusa lamented, putting her hand in her face. "I thought you would like to drink the blood?" Lucinda stated with a shrug. "I drink cold blood. Why don't you drink it? I haven't seen you drink blood before." Medusa said using her telekinesis to pull the cup to her. "No, I can't. It's creeping me out." Lucinda said, lifting her upper lip in disgust. Medusa smirked, clutching the cup as she held Lucinda’s head, and started moving the cup closer to her mouth, trying to force her to drink the blood.

As soon as it hit my taste buds with its bitterness, I spat it out. “Yeah, it’s very bitter, but it’s medicinal,” she stated, combing her black hair with her hand, revealing a tattoo. My heartbeat hiked as I recognized it—the tattoo of the black fangs. I was in the Demon Alpha’s territory. The moon goddess had decided to throw me into the deep blue sea.

When he reached for the decanter, the light hit his back, and I actually forgot how to inhale. Sprawled across his skin was a massive, hyper-realistic tattoo of Medusa. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The snakes on her head didn't just look like ink, they looked like they were writhing, winding down his spine and over the hard shelf of his shoulders. Her eyes were a haunting, icy pale, the only bit of color in the black-and-grey work and they seemed to stare right through me. As he poured the drink, the muscles in his back shifted and rolled, making the snakes on the tattoo look like they were actually moving, coiling and uncoiling over his skin.

Her mesmerizing and radiant beauty and the graceful curve of her figure, a captivating silhouette, drew his gaze like a moth to a flame. Her eyes, akin to liquid emerald pools, shimmered in the light, and he found himself ensnared in her eyes – where he felt the intoxicating pull of drowning within their captivating depths. Yet, it was the way she ogled at him that stole his breath away. Her eyes fixated on his tattoos, drawn to the intricate details inked into his skin. On his left arm, the Celtic Knot work with Fangs unfolded a captivating narrative, where fangs seamlessly blended with ancient Celtic motifs. The Veins and Blood tattoo, like a river of life, traced mesmerizing paths within

“I haven’t forgotten that. Well, it hasn’t caused her any problems yet. Let’s leave it for now. If it appeared it could mean the moon goddess has blessed her.” “Blessed who?” the door suddenly opened and Mel came in. “We’re both talking about Lavana. Carmelia says there’s a tattoo at her back up to her neck. A wolf tattoo.” “Really?” Mel’s eyes widened in surprise. Both nodded. “What expression was the wolf making.” “You mean the wolf tattoo?” Rolandro asked and his friend nodded. “I think it had no expression but the eyes… were that of calm or indifference with a little threat in them.” “Should we ask her about it?” Mel asked.

Her hair was messy, the nurse cap tilted to one side, and her lips, God, those lips, were pouty and wet, parted just enough for me to see the pink of her tongue. My cock was out, hard and heavy in my hand. The second I pulled it free, it slapped against my stomach with a wet sound. The tattoo—a black serpent that started at the base and curled all the way to the tip, glistened under the light, with pre-cum right on the slit. The ink looked alive, like it was moving with every throb. Her eyes went wide. Really wide, almost popping. Like she’d never seen anything like it. Her breath hitched for a second, then came out shaky, hot against my skin.

He kissed my forehead, the tension in my body eased. “It started with Melanie,” I began, testing if I could tell my story. “The nightmares?” I hummed, “that and I saw something when she threw the knife in my face.” “You saw something? Her tattoo?” Kai offered. Malanie’s wrist tattoo was a mark worn by all Tempest assassins. A black mamba slithered around a knife. “Yes and no. I’ve never seen that tattoo before, but it reminded me of something or someone with a tattoo on the same spot.”