Tim Henson Tattoos Novels & Stories

My name is Artie. I lived with my family, mom and my dad, in the jungle. We had no neighbors but only listening to the sweet melodious voices of the singing birds from the jungle. I grew up from the house and never moved out. My parents used to tell me I was the only reason for their happiness so I made sure to keep them smiling. I was a type of girl who liked watching fantasies so I always wished to make the impossible possible. One day on my birthday, dad asked me to make a wish. I just told them I wanted a tattoo on my thigh instead. My mom scolded me for asking such a stupid thing on my day but it's what I wanted.

I ask her making her wince at the taste of aspirin in her tongue. "Nope. I've never been much of a drinker, you know that. I mean, a glass of wine here and there, but, not really the type to just go off and drink for a night." I chuckle, kissing her and laying next to her. "I see you got a new tattoo. It's in memory of your mom, isn't it?" I say, pointing towards the tattoo on her left shoulder. It was a beautiful cluster of flowers with a pink ribbon and the initials H.P. for Hailey Patterson.

I said as he took the bowl before wolfing it down. “Woah there tiger,” I giggled as he set the bowl aside, “Where do you want this tattoo?” He asked as I bite my lip, “On my back,” I replied as he raised his eyebrows, “Okay, and what have you decided on getting?” He asked, causing a smile to appear on my lips, “I was thinking of getting a blossom branch with the word rebirth in Chinese on my side,” I explained causing his eyebrows to raise once again.

Henna was something that he did for our pups because they all thought our tattoos were cool. An artistic banner that Damon designed was hung up over one of the main booths. It had my mate’s sexy ass name and the logo design that was associated with him. It was an ouroboros made of water with flames inside of it. Damon was leaning against the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. A proud smile was on his face. He had dropped everything the moment that he learned that my mate was going to be featured this year. He had been instrumental in Maddox’s success, whether he agreed or not. He had taken my mate underneath his wing and taught him how to spread those wings of his and fly.

A succinct sombre chuckle escapes her before she lowly orders, "Go back to the cottage." Relieved, I stood and bowed, then sped out of the office. Phew! I live to see another day. Over my heart, an illuminated wolf paw flashed, with the initials HHC.T on the metacarpal. It will continue to blink in this manner until Heron completes the mating process, much like an ornament on a Christmas tree. After that, the imprint's emblem becomes a tattoo. It stood for Heron Hudson Carter.Tyr. His wolf branded me like a cow on a cattle farm.

Azrael and Hunter have the same matching tattoos. It is just an inscription in Greek. I begged my dad and after persuading him for months he allowed me have it. I replied the message. Guess I have a date this Saturday.

I asked him while eating my burger. “It is a Chinese character of hope. I decided to tattoo this to remind me that there’s hope for everything,” He said while looking at his tattoo. “And how about that tattoo?” I asked him while pointing to his right tattoo and gave him a mean look “No, it is not what you think. I don’t have a wife and a kid,” He defensively answered. “This is my mom and me. It is my tribute tattoo for my mom. I want her to know that she’s always remembered”, He added.

I bow my head, pretend to focus on the screen. "You were staring," he says in a low, amused voice. He leans against my desk, arms crossed, towering over me. "My tattoos interest you?" I shake my head, too quickly. "No, I… it's nothing." He chuckles softly. "Liar." He pulls up the left sleeve of his t‑shirt, revealing more of the raven and other symbols: a miniature cathedral, eight‑pointed stars, Cyrillic numbers. "Every design has a story. The raven… it's for memory. For those we've lost, but never forget. The stars are rank. The cathedral… the faith you keep even when everything else goes to hell."

"It's just an old one, sweetheart. From a long time ago." Noé nodded solemnly. "Papa has tattoos too. Lots of them. He says they are stories he carries so he doesn't forget important things. Maybe yours is a story too. Maybe it's about being strong. Or about vanilla. Or dinosaurs." He grinned at his own idea. "I think it's about dinosaurs. Because you always remember mine are the best." A small laugh escaped me despite everything. "Maybe it is." He beamed, pleased with himself for making me smile. "So you will come on Thursday? And show off your pretty flower tattoo?."

“Enjoy your stay. But hey, word of advice? Steer clear of the Red Zone if you’re really just here for the sauna. Unless you want more than a quiet night, of course. In that case, the Red Zone’s your best bet.” “The Red Zone?” “It’s on the far end. Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.” With a wink, he turns and walks off, flip-flops slapping against the tile. That’s when I catch the enormous tattoo spanning his entire back—a bird, wings spread wide, talons out. A hawk.