Tattoos Vampire Diaries Novels & Stories

Dear Diary, From the very first day I became a vampire, I hated my life and I always thought that God was punishing me for still choosing to work in the tavern even though he did not like it. I stayed in that empty cave alone with nowhere to go after leaving the town. During those lonely days it felt as if death would have been a better option, because there was nothing happy or interesting about life anymore. Until my sister, Dana found me. I call her my sister because from the very first day I met her, that is all she has been to me. She gave me a home with a nice big room, she gave me comfort, she gave me love, and she took me on so many wonderful adventures. It was on one of our adventur

I was putting on my shoes by the front door when Daisy stopped me to hand me a small bottle. I looked at it, then looked back at her. “What is this? I know the city’s not so safe right now, but I don’t think pepper spray is going to stop a serial killer.” Daisy rolled her eyes. “It’s garlic powder.” “Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re still on this vampire bullshit?” I pushed the bottle back into her hands but she stepped back. “Just hold it with you. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” I shook my head, but stuffed the bottle in my bra. My Uber was waiting outside, and by the time I pulled up to the event hall, the party was in full swing.

Something she could only imagine existed in books and movies. A pair of red eyes and two long fangs that stuck out of the mouth as though they were always meant to be there. Except there was no blood dripping from his mouth as always described in books. Yet, she was still scared senseless at the sight of a living, vampire right in front of her eyes. He moved closer to her again but this time, she was prepared and understood what he was. She lunged on her feet in fright and prepared to flee. But she had barely moved two steps when that figure appeared in front of her again.

“You’re reeking of anxiety right now, and Priest will immediately smell that on you.” “You’re one of them, you asshole,” I say while maintaining a smile on my face, then knowing who he is, I turn around to face him. Why the fuck do vampires have to be so goddamn gorgeous? He’s dressed in black, the same as everyone else, but he’s not even wearing a shirt. His body is immaculately ripped, with tattoos covering his entire right arm right up to his pectoral, his long blonde hair is hanging down over his shoulders, and his green eyes are the lightest shade I’ve ever seen.

she said, turning to look at him with a smile. Marcus stepped into the tub, and Zyra’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tattoo on his back. It was intricate and fearsome, depicting a cursed demon lycan, with dark, swirling patterns that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. She felt an inexplicable pull towards it and reached out, trailing her fingers along the lines of the tattoo. Marcus stiffened, surprised by her touch. “You just touched my tattoo?” he asked her and she hummed “Yeah” “You good?” he asked her worriedly

He watched as his mate fell limp on his arms due to the vigorous exercise; he washed her body from the residue and put on his shirt on her. His lips curled into a beautiful smile when he saw the replica of his birth tattoo on her exposed back, although hers was designed in red colour. The crown wolf showed prominently around the blazing fire with petals around the fire—a true-born Queen. Their soul and body have been bounded together, and her blood became forbidden for his vampire. "Stop grinning like a fool!" Ryk commented, rolling its eyes at Zaccheus's grinning face. Zaccheus ignored him because he couldn't wipe the smile from his face; he didn't care if he behaved like a lovesick puppy.

Lucifer asked confused and their eyes widened. Lucifer checked himself in the mirror and saw it. The tattoo like carving on his back. It was a dagger with a snake clinging to it in black colour, it looked so perfect and real like it's their skin. "What the fuck..." He heard Vincent cursing. Lucifer looked at them and Nicolai and Vincent had the same tattoo like thing on their back exactly where he has it. Below their neck. "What is this..." Nicolai frowned touching it. "I felt something burn on my back yesterday when we were mating... I thought it's because she was scratching my back..."

What was that supposed to mean? He blew out a long and tired sigh, taking her hand in his before placing a kiss in the middle of her palm. Coaxing her to rest it on his shoulder right after. The other one simply followed, her arms snaking around the back of his neck on their own accord. She continued to watch him. Gaze roaming over his face searchingly. "These roses on my body, these tattoos as you call them have appeared from the moment that I was turned into a vampire," he started to explain, his voice so calm and even.

“No.” He attacked. Not with a wild lunge, but with a swift, controlled strike meant to disarm, not kill. I ducked, the shard in my satchel thumping against my ribs. The movement brought me closer to him than I intended. As I twisted away, the collar of the rough leather vest he wore shifted. There, on the side of his neck, just above the thick muscle, was a tattoo. Small, intricate, but unmistakable. A black raven in flight, its wings spread—the exact symbol on the bloodied badge in my pocket. The mark of Damon’s pack.

Despite not choosing to be a pure-blooded vampire, I was born that way. My mother, who was a human hunter and fighter, caught the attention of a pure-blood vampire a hundred years ago due to her strength. However, since she was a human three generations before me, she has already passed away, leaving behind cells that carry a hereditary trait. These cells determine if a pure-blood vampire is born and cause my father excruciating pain, as if he were giving birth. Additionally, they manifest as tattoos on my body, initially appearing faint but becoming more prominent as I age. This is why I can walk during the day despite the intense sunlight. In contrast, servant vampires, who are only bitten