Precious Tattoos Novels & Stories

"I have never seen such a beautiful mermaid like yourself." Aziza smiles, her cheeks glowing with a gentle blush, clearly touched by Trent's sincere compliments. She signs, "Thank you, Trent. I appreciate your kind words about my appearance, and it means a lot to me. As for your tattoos, they are truly striking and hold a certain allure. Each one seems to carry a story, a glimpse into your experiences. I had thought of getting some myself someday, but I don't have many experiences to tell stories of."

It felt lewd to be standing there with both nipples pierced, whilst the four very clean cut middle aged women watched. “Nice tattoos,” Iris murmured. “Fresh ones too.” She exchanged a look with Patience before cutting down the side seam of the tracksuit pants, her fingers brushing against Aislen’s skin as she did so. (… F-king Triquetra… That’s Rhett’s work, and the Triquetra triangle. Who is this girl? And why has Rhett Salem tattooed her as being the Triquetra’s property… Ah, f-k…) The pants removal had revealed the rest of the tattoos.

I saw it, and gasped, tracing my fingers across the lines. “This tattoo looks familiar… like I’ve seen it before.” He smiled smugly. “It’s not a tattoo. It’s a Sigil, burned into your skin. I have many more but that is preserved for when someone sees me naked.” I rolled my eyes at him. Who wants to even see him naked? “Why so many?” I asked. “Why would someone want to draw tattoos that much? Is it not painful?” “No, maybe, yes. For little girls like you, it might be.” The corner of his lips raised up.

She knows the piece well. It’s a beautiful peacock-like bird, but it was orange and red, a phoenix. There are lilies trailing behind it in a sweeping line across her back, each with a name cleverly hidden in the stamens. Her tattoo sleeves look like smoke is rising from between her fingers and curling around her arms and up to and around her shoulders. The tattoos on her arms meet up with the back piece, connecting it all together. She’s had this tattoo for years, unaware of the irony.

I dare touch the shimmering gold necklace seated on the cushion with my initials and his carved up on a pendant. “Turn it,” he tells me when I raise it on the sun and it glints. When I do, at the back of it are all of their names carved in small scribbling and their sigil boxing the names in a box. I have never been gifted something so precious and so expensive in my whole life. I feel like if I lose it, my whole life will cease to exist. “It's so beautiful,” I repeat and he smiles as he kisses me on the cheek.

"And i love you more Tinkerbell" he said, as he enveloped me in a warm hug. I rest my head carefully on his broad chest, as i inhale the pef he used. O Allah! How sweet he is. I broke the hug slightly, tears still in my eyes and looked at him. He smiled. I mean the biggest and most beautiful smile I've ever seen. Yaa Rabbi! How lucky am i to have him.

“There are symbols that have been used for centuries to prevent possession.” “So you can tattoo my body and in return, Adron cannot possess me?” I clarified. “Correct.” “Can anyone tattoo these or only you?” “Anyone can tattoo it, but it has to be done with a certain ink.” “What’s in the ink?” I was more of less questioning her to see if she knew what she was talking about. If she would have come sooner, Jet wouldn’t be fighting for his life right now. “Different herbs and spices but hard metals like platinum, hafnium and thallium.”

All of them had a silver hue, yet it was clear that they were not crafted from actual silver. One had a small ruby, another had elegant cursive inscriptions, and another had delicate floral etchings. I couldn't help but admire the intricate artwork that adorned his arm, from his fingers all the way up to his wrist. "What is the significance of this?" I gently ran my fingers over one of the intricate tattoos on his arm. The elegant script, adorned with delicate vines, roses, and lotus flowers, intrigued me, even though I couldn't decipher the Greek letters.

I’m nothing important. I don’t deserve the attention. I don’t want it. It makes me uncomfortable. “Where is she?!” The room door slammed open, again, another dangerously handsome slightly huffing man entering the room. My eyes widen, he reminded me of Theós, but looked nothing like him. While Theós was obviously caucasian, the huffing male in front of me was clearly a descendant from an asian heritage. Like Theós, his black locks was gelled back. His fiery, dark brown eyes sparklingly warmly as they popped out from his flawless tan skin. From the sleeveless shirt he was wearing, I could see the black ink of tattoos that littered his skin. Making his slightly sweet, gorgeous face appear sligh

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.