Web Of Wyrd Tattoo Novels & Stories

Everything went fuzzy and I was out. Present Day. I stood from the couch and walked over to the picture on the wall. I stood in front of it, moving my eyes over the mix of colours. It was like a galaxy of stars, glitter, and beautiful colours. It was the kind of picture that would make someone calm and happy. It was the type of picture someone could marvel at for hours. It was the kind of picture that someone would smile at. But not me. It was the same picture that I have been forced to look at thousands of times throughout my life. I crossed my arms and my fingers moved slowly over my forearm. The fingertips traced over the countless raised scars left behind from my childhood education. I l

Tyr’s mark is on his upper left back, just right where his shoulder blade is. Because of the location of his print, Tyr thought the moon must be teasing him. Aside from having a different mark from everyone, a one of its kind at that, he couldn’t see it unless he stands in front of a mirror and look at it from his reflection. He kept on pressing on it and the skin around his mark would turn white from the pressure of his fingers while his mark remains rosewood red. Other werewolves would have been over the moon bearing that colored print under their skin because it only means to be given to royal werewolves. However, for Tyr, having only a half mark printed on him means he must be cursed.

I felt a huge surge of power once it was around my neck, we moved on to Aspyn. When we got done with all four of us and we all had our amulets on the room started to glow from each of us a bolt of energy rose to the ceiling, and they are were intertwined with one another weaving all four of the colors of our amulets together bind them as one. I looked at the parchment paper that I had used for my spell earlier it was doing something marvelous, it bound with the magic bolt it created a mark a tattoo, its had each of our names and bloodline origins one the paper, what kind of familiar we had their names our wolves names and mine had my dragon name as well, I felt something sting on my back and

It would be easier to just jump from underneath, but I don’t want to run the risk of anyone seeing me, as I have the convenience of having several steps to get here. I go inside and close the door behind me, small pangs coming from my right shoulder. I undress and go to take a hot shower. The water seems to relieve my external wounds, but not internal ones. I have a tattoo on my right shoulder that depicts a half-moon with a wolf’s head next to it. This tattoo identifies me as the cursed Alpha, my father used to tell me. According to the ancients, those born in the night of a red moon were destined to hatred, loneliness, and do great things. I honestly never cared much, but I know that every

Harken just narrows his eyes, fed up with the night’s events as is, but lifts his shirt to rip it over his head, revealing the large mixed tribal and Celtic style tattoo that runs from his left wrist up his arm and to his chest, the intricate symbol of the Lewis tribe crest in the middle of his breast, and the large head of a wolf covering his shoulder, winding and thick brushed tribal designs covering the skin around them. “Guess again, asshole. If you’re so familiar with their markings, you probably know what my ink means.” Harken glares down at Karl, watching as the kids’ wide eyes wander over the tattoo, his fingers gripping his forearms. “Well, w-what’s that one then?” Karl asks and poi

“You are now a third-tier dominant wolf.” Shock coursed through me as I stared at the glowing tattoo on my wrist, watching it transform before my very eyes. Shit.

, appeared on the right-hand side of the wraith. The wraith shut his eyes again, and drumming noise racketed again, now in an unbearable clamour. With an uproar of the heartbeat, the wraith rumbled: “Divus”. My eyes started to bleed my ichor as a new magmatic vein shot and carved from the wraith, and a new engraving, “Divus”, appeared above the head of the wraith gatekeeper. As my energy continued to ebb, I was sucked off my ichor which flew through handprint engraving. While I roared in agonising pain, two handprint engravings connected to newly made Divus, Terra and Demonium inscription, forming a new vein system which looked like a pentagram and radiated in a mixture of embers and my icho

What in the world? I see a small crowd of angry faces egging them on. Why isn’t anyone stopping this? A girl yells, “Kick the crap out of him, Gaston! Show the royal punk werewolves aren’t to be messed with!” The wind ruffles Sapphire Eyes’s short, glossy brown hair, making it look like he's doing one of those shampoo commercials that make you wish you had better hair. I notice a tattoo on his back: large, black tribal markings that zigzag across his shoulders and go down to the middle of his back in a complicated pattern. When he throws another hard blow, I whistle to get their attention. Andddd it’s ignored. I sigh and make my way toward them.

"You have another chance at life. You have a new chance to be something different. Become someone different. Liam may have poisoned you, but he also burned away your connection to the Witches, to your family. Ezra and the others have supported you and will continue to do so, as your new family. Yes, you have lost your roots, but don't forget about the rest of the forest." I glanced away from Poe, down at my hands. He had a point. I was definitely no longer a Witch. But to have such a power as life or death at my hands- "What's this?" Poe asked, taking one of my hands to examine it closer. The smudge of what I'd thought was dirt hadn't been that at all. Instead, it looked like I'd gotten a ta

“The wolf, the moon… but the magic, the blue lines... that’s yours." The realization settles between us, heavy and undeniable. This mark isn’t just a symbol of our bond. It’s a testament to the fusion of our worlds, a visual representation of the union that defies the boundaries set by our people. It’s both Elven and werewolf, a blend of our identities that speaks louder than words. I feel a rush of emotions. Pride, fear and wonder all colliding inside me as I trace the lines once more, trying to make sense of the inexplicable.