Tris Tattoo Insurgent Novels & Stories

"Tristan, this tattoo may have been inked only recently. If he was really a guard who had been trained since young, it is impossible for the tattoo to be this fresh. You know the rules. They don't recruit people this age." "Hearing this, Tristan quickly walked over. As expected, the tattoo had become infected as it had been soaked in water." Such a situation would only happen when the tattoo was only recently completed. Which meant that someone was trying to push the blame onto Prestin. Did they want to see Prestin and the Acker family slaughter each other so that they could benefit from it? Who would think up a plan like this?

The conch was colorful. It was a rare species. Winston tapped open the comment section. "That's a Triton's trumpet, isn't it? It's so pretty!" "Can't believe you're so punk, love it!" "Why did you get a tattoo here? Was it to cover a scar?" Under this comment, Megan replied with a simple "Yes." Seeing this interaction, Winston saved the image and enlarged it. It was a rather gruesome scar. It was covered well with the skill of that tattoo artist. However, the shape of the protruding flesh resembled a word.

His lips found the sweet spot on her neck, and he grazed it slightly with his teeth before lapping his tongue. His jaw tightened, and his eyes swirled from their usual blue-green to a golden brown as he tasted blood. The veins in his jaw ticked, and his nostrils flared. "Shit!" He grunts, feeling his canine piercing out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, darling." "What are you talking about…?" Tricia's words were cut off as she moaned. "Oh gods, Trevor. Continue doing that!" She groaned, pushing her back into him more.

I carry my face from his chest slowly and carefully, not to wake him up I roll over and lie on my side. I admire his sinful beauty, if I can just touch it once more. That's right I can touch it, after all he's sleeping. I flatten my palm on his chest and feel each rhythmic movement his chest makes when he breathes. I outline his body with my hands, over the six divisions on his belly to the tattoo on his chest. I remember when he got that, I came back tired from the classes I had and he came into my house grinning like he just won a lottery. He made me close my eyes, trust me I still cheated, opening my eyes slightly to try to take peaks of whatever surprise he was bringing up. When I opened

The training grounds for the troops were crowded with males that surrounded the entire ring. Elise could not help but feel intrigued as she walked closer, finding a part to squeeze through as she noticed who stood on the ring. Kaide and Taz were both shirtless; Taz's muscles were hard and thick; his left arm was covered with a black band; and he had two striped tattoos. Elise had noticed that it was on all the males' left arm; one band meant you were delta, two bands were beta, and three bands were alpha, like the one she saw on Rygan's body.

I grabbed my wrist with my other hand and held it tight and the pain kept going anyway. "My wrist," I got out scared. "Something's wrong with my wrist." He took it carefully. Turned it over in the lamplight. And then he went very still. I looked down. On the inside of my wrist, glowing faint and blue-white against my skin, was a mark. Not a bruise. Not a burn. Lines. Clean and precise. Circular at the center with three branches extending outward. Each one ending in a different shape. The Triskelion.

He was so pissed off for being late that he couldn’t stop taunting her with words. “Don’t you think you are taking it too far?” Daniel commented after everyone left and the door closed. Adam pinched the tip of his nose and then pulled out a cigarette from his pant pocket and lit its end. Dragging a long puff of smoke, he let the hot air soothe his nerve before blowing through his nose. “Stay out of it. She is my prey.” __

Marcus ordered. I did. Hand trembling, but I signed. The pen felt heavier than the collar around my neck. “Good girl.” Vesper took the papers and smiled. “Now the tattoos.” They laid me on the table. The artist they brought in was one of their own — silent, efficient, needles buzzing. First came the big one right over the brand: bold black letters spelling “COLLECTIVE CUM QUEEN” arched above my pussy. Then smaller marks on my inner thighs — “Free Use” on the left, “Breed Hole” on the right. A crown dripping cum right between my tits.

His face was carved with something dark and menacing. The same tattoos were inked on the rest of his crew members like they were part of a death squad. The word ‘OUTLAWS’ was written on the back of their jackets. A gold medallion swung from Max’s neck. He had a cool swagger. It was nothing like the mysterious, dangerous air that Aston possessed. The two boys stood facing each other. The air was suddenly charged with tenseness. Giselle cast a worried look back and forth from her brother to Max.