Tattoo Science Fiction Novels & Stories

The natural waist dropped into a sheer fabric with flowers stitched into it. The scars have relaxed and really created a pretty chain-link pattern. Although our wolves really worked on healing me, they are just now calming down and looking like regular scars. I have grown accustom to them to the point that I want to get them tattooed. As a symbol of my strength and determination to not let evil win. Soft music was playing as I paced around this tent. The only thing I knew about this event was the smell of lilacs. “Ready?” Colt lifted the side and stepped in.

“No. I just… wish I could touch them. No. She can’t. The tattoos—they look good. That’s the point. Years of careful planning, hours under the needle, making sure they were beautifully arranged, each one flowing into the next. I spent a fortune making them look like art. But they’re not just ink. They’re cover-ups. Because if she touches them—really touches them—she’ll feel what’s underneath. The scars. The ones that don’t sit flush with the skin. The ones the artists had to work around, blend into shadows, hide beneath shading and lines. And I can’t have that. Not now. Maybe not ever. Because those scars… they come with stories. Stories I’ll never tell. “Get on your feet,” I say. “I want to

Tattoos are usually an expression of oneself. She hesitates for a moment; I can see the turmoil in her eyes but eventually she nods. CJ comes closer to me and turns around. I grab the back of the tank top and lift it over her head while her arms are crossed in her front. The realistic tattoo is a full-colored piece with an intricate golden bird cage in the center with a wolf’s head howling at the moon, an owl with its wings open, and portraits of a bear, fox and mouse intermingled with beautiful wildflowers. I run my fingers over the tattoo. Tingles touch my fingertips sending pleasure through me, but what gets me more are the scars I feel and not just a few but many scars. Now that I think

He also loves showing off his tattoos – he has tribal tattoos all over his chest and arms. Tattoos aren’t fun at the best of times, but they’re more painful for us wolves. We heal too fast and don’t scar easily so the only way to get tattoos is to use a tattoo gun made with pure silver because any injury caused by silver once healed leaves a scar. Gamma James’ tattoos are basically a giant warning sign screaming ‘I’m dangerous and pain means nothing to me.’ “Just once I wish my old man would wear a shirt,” whispers a voice beside me and I have to stifle a chuckle.

Raf screamed and they started doing it. I was still thinking if I should get the tattoo. I was scared, but I decided to get it! “Done!” Aaron stated. I approached Raf to see that tattoo. He had an amazing picture of Lion keeping a dome with water and Pisces in hands. It made me think about something, but I quickly kicked it out of my head. The tattoo was on the shoulder. It looked amazing. “Wow,” I whispered. “You like it?” Raf asked. I nodded, still looking at his shoulder. “Have you decided to get it?”

The markings on his skin from the neck down seemed to disappear beneath the costume, leading me to assume he had gone all out to have a massive gold-inked Egyptian-themed henna tattoo drawn on the entire upper half of his body not just his arms. He looked like he walked off the set of some expensive sci-fi blockbuster, but it wasn’t remotely familiar. I was infatuated with all things sci-fi and he looked like nothing I had ever seen before. As I made a personal note to do some heavy-duty research on my new potential fantasy obsession. He tilted his head eyeing me curiously like a cat cornering a mouse.