Tattoos Are Cliche Novels & Stories

He asks me. I have seen my fair share of tattoos. A lot of gangs or organizations use them as a sort of identification. It is the brand of any of those organizations and whoever has it does not need to be told how much influence he had within that territory. I, for one, do not believe in branding myself like a slave is a good means to identify myself. I come in with my mystery and all go give a person the chance to make a fool of themselves after which I will deal with the person however I deem fit.

In my junior year of highschool, I developed a liking for tatooes, they attracted me somehow. Some of the girls in my class had ones made on their bodies. Butterflies, dragons, snakes and even faces of popular people. I loved tatooes, but my mother didn’t. She believed that tatooes attracted evil spirits.so I forgot the entire tatoo idea, trying to be an obedient child. Instead of doing tatooes I chose to paint another way of releasing the things I felt inside of me.

“Usually your type always has tattoos.” “My type?” I had my hands on my hips as I looked at her. “Yes. The quiet and mysterious, guns hidden all over, spy types,” she said. “Firstly, I’m not a spy per se and secondly, my guns are very well hidden and thirdly, why would you want to mark your body like that?” I asked her. Tattoos were identifiers and nine out of ten times that was how someone got caught. I wasn’t an idiot and the idea of a tattoo had never really appealed to me before.

He demanded. A bad omen? I had totally forgotten and well, that is because I did not believe that. I mean, humans have always had tattoos and it was really cool. In fact, the most successful ones among them were ones with a lot of tattoos and it made them famous. I have always admired it and there is no telling me otherwise. Besides, I had literally thought it was a case of cursing what you cannot have. It is no secret that we werewolves could not get tattoos. It was impossible because we always healed and once the needle pierces through the skin, well, that would definitely mean healing. But now, someone as smart as Maddox had finally found out a way to get the tattoo done and here we were

He says as he tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. "The entire soccer team got one at the start of the season last year, something about uniting the team and blah, blah, blah," I explain, rolling my eyes. "The only reason they got them was because Ed needed skin to practise on and they were the only ones dumb enough to volunteer." "You don't like tattoos?" He asks me, thinking I'm against tattoos when really I'm not. "I love them, I think they're an expression of a person's individuality and it's art, but what I don't like is when people get the exact same, meaningless tattoo," I tell him.

A tattoo showed on the side of his neck, low and almost hidden under his collar. "Any Avilov would be marked. Just like the Antonovs are marked." "That's stupid." I didn't protest when he got us walking again. "Getting inked to be identified as one of the cult?" "Not a cult. A family." "Sounds close enough." "Like you should talk. You've got a lot of ink." I shrugged. "It's not to identify myself. It's... an expression of art." "I didn't ask for an explanation." I shot him a dirty glare.

"Fany listen. If I told you to throw away all the doll collections, what would you do?" "Punch you." Typical. "Why don't you want to throw away your doll?" "What's wrong with collecting dolls?" said Fany. "They're funny, don't have a bad connotation. Unlike your stupid tattoo, it just makes you look like a gangster." "You're wrong," I replied. I hope he will understand. "A tattoo is an expression of art. It's a work. It's a passion that I have. If you want to get rid of this tattoo of mine, you have to be more than just a boyfriend."

But they just sighed with no energy to even say anything. “Rude but not so... Rude” Priya mumbled. “Badboy but not so... Badboy” Akhila mumbled. “Player but not so... Player” Ritika mumbled. “Jerk but not so... Jerk” Kritika mumbled. "Why do we all have such an amazing selection in the boys?" Asked both the twins at a time looking at their elder sisters. "We will definitely note the sarcasm." added the middle sister for them.

Funny how I get nervous again, wanting to back out when I was so courageous earlier until I saw them. Some of his men went outside, and some were still there. They all have tattoos on their arms and probably up to their body. Well, tattoos are all over the world now. Even minors have! “A million and a hundred dollars.” His eyebrow shut up. A loud burst of laughter suddenly echoed inside the room.

Truth Tattoos. It was time for another one. It had been time for another one for weeks. My body was covered in them, bright, colourful ones that women loved. My own personal story of violence and death. Sure they were beautiful but wasn’t death beautiful? In its own macabre way?