Narcissist Survivor Tattoo นิยาย & เรื่องราว

he replied, motioning to the chair across from him. I sat down, the seat feeling suddenly too small for my body. “Thank you so much for this opportunity, sir. I promise I won’t let you down.” He offered his hand. I took it without hesitation. And then… I saw it. A crescent-shaped birthmark. Just under the knuckle. And the world… paused. Something thundered in my memory, something bitter and cracked and wrapped in adolescent cruelty. ~~~~~ “Yo, y’all check out Nerd of the Year. Got a tattoo to feel better about yourself?”

She nods thoughtfully. " Okay so this is what I want you to do to her. I need you to tattoo something across her neck." he must have asked her something because she hums. " I need you to make it as bold as possible. Make it draw as much attention as powerful. I need you to tattoo the phrase, ' I suck it cause it's delicious but like every delicious thing, it has to belong to someone else' and draw a nazi symbol on where her neck meets her chin." I stop on my tracks and digest, well in this case I'm also processing, that she is saying that. Not that it's mean but it's not humiliating enough for that skank. I need to add something to that list. Like maybe cutting off a pinky toe.

“I’m going to put something on now!” “Nice tattoo, Aldo!” Adia teases. Yeah I have a tattoo on my ribcage, no one really sees it unless they see me shirtless. Nova hasn’t said anything, but I doubt my tattoo is the first thing on their mind. It’s a flaming phoenix . Knowing I was the only survivor of the crash that killed my parents and maternal grandparents makes me feel a bit like a phoenix. I’ll need a purple butterfly over my heart, for Nova.

A sigh left my lips. “You still have the scar,” he murmured against my skin. I blinked, glancing over my shoulder where the faint crescent from his bite had never quite faded. I wore an off-shoulder top, something loose and soft, and the mark was just visible. “Models cover scars,” I said. “But I don’t want to cover this one.” He pressed another kiss there. “Why not?” “I’m thinking of getting a tattoo.” He paused. “Of what?” I smiled. “Something to mark the storm we survived.”

Danika responded. "Who drew it?" She asked. "I wish I knew. It was visible after I shifted. It was never there before and no one drew it on my body," she replied. The tattoo was the picture of a wolf howling under the moon. "It is beautiful though." "Thank you Ms. Nahigra." She said as she grabbed an apple. "Thanks for the fruits too." She said and got watered by Nicholas again. "Nicholas stop!" She yelled. "Do you know Danika?" Nahigra asked Hoots who was preparing where his wife would lie down to sleep.

I really did not want to feel weak ever again. My parents totally thought I was crazy when I decided to get a few tattoos. I had a big one slung over my shoulder that reached down to my bicep—our crew's tribal symbol. I also had another large one on my back and a warrior symbol on my inner bicep, courtesy of Gaspar. But my favorite was a cool tattoo guys get when they find their match. It sat just below my waistband, right in the middle of my stomach. A symbol that looked like this: ∞.

I thought to lie but his tone wasn’t judgy so I answered honestly. “My ex-husband.” “And this is your first tattoo?” Thankfully, no further questions about the ex-husband. “Yes, first and only.” “You know you could just just remove it instead of drawing over it if you’re not a fan of tattoos.” I had thought of that but no, I wanted a coverup tattoo. It was going to be a bunch of zinnias, a flower that is known to thrive even in the harshest conditions. Drawing it over Harry’s name would be symbolic to say that regardless of my current challenges, I blossomed.

Saint was about to look away grudgingly when Nicholas's towel lowered itself and then fell to the floor, revealing a tattoo. His gaze snagged on it before he could even stop himself. The tattoo rested low on Nicholas's back, directly above his waist. The design climbed the base of his spine in elegant black lines. Sharp points and sweeping curves intertwined around a narrow central shape that resembled a watchful eye. Thorn-like flourishes stretched outward before curling back in on themselves, giving the impression of something dangerous held barely under control.

"What are you waiting for Crinka? Just suck me already" "Exercise patience Sia, after all I do need permission to suck you". "I give you permission. Fuck just suck me already. I'm getting impatient". I stroke his dick slowly, taking in the tattoo on his dick, I am getting turned on just by doing this. "What is it for?". "Hmm?", he asks eyes closed. "The tattoo. The one of a tiny dick. What does it mean?". His eyes flew open. "It's personal". "Everything is personal for you Nasia".

Me staring at a naked guy for the second time in my damn life. My breath caught in my throat, trapped. I was trapped. My eyes completely rebelled against my brain's frantic commands to look the fuck away. Instead, they traced the dark, heavy ink of a tattoo etched across his upper shoulder blades. Three words, bold and unyielding: "Built Through Pain." The script wasn't flashy or arrogant. It felt heavy. It looked like a scar turned into art—a quiet testament to something survival-driven. A strange, unbidden ache blossomed in my chest just looking at it.