#he's got symbols of every known god etched into him like tattoos

[blujayonthewing]

'wow I never would have guessed that melliwyk gets so strongly and instantly attracted to people for being clearly and overtly passionate about something, how funny' I say, as if her response to the warforged cleric with the life's mission of discovering lost and forgotten gods wasn't 'I've only had caretaker for five minutes but if anything happens to him I'm killing everyone in this room and myself'

[ilytuan]

Etched 「yugyeom」

genre › tattoo artist!au ︱ fluff  

pairing › reader ︱ yugyeom / mark tuan

word count › 4,890

warning ›  language 

“Hyung, you can’t just-” A voice whispered, although it was far from hushed. You heard heavy footsteps approach before the warm Egyptian cotton duvet was ripped away from you, making you shiver as your body became exposed to the air that came rushing in.

“Yugyeom, she’s awake. Just get her the fuck out of here before I do it myself.” A gruff voice commanded. You had only stirred away a few moments ago, when the door had been violently swung open and the knob hit the wall with a loud crash. The covers were already pulled up past your mouth before they walked in, so you shifted yourself down the bed a little to cover your face and try to stay calm amongst the commotion.

You had no idea what was happening, or where you were, but the familiar name made you gather enough bravery to peel open an eye, but you regretted it instantly when you were startled out of your skin at the sight. A rather tall and cold looking man, whose arms and neck from what you could make out were completely tattooed with black ink drawings of intricate designs and mostly unidentifiable Chinese characters, was standing right next to the bed, an angry scowl on his face and you guessed he was the culprit in the case, ripping away the warm duvet and slamming open the door. Or maybe you were the culprit.

A gasp of blind stupor escaped your lips before you could help it and in a flash Yugyeom had crossed the room with only a few long strides from where he was standing impotently at the door, snatching your hand and pulling you up from the bed with ease as if you weighed as light as feather. You didn’t.

“Thanks for the bed, hyung.” Yugyeom spoke in a clipped tone, barely nodding his head at the man who’s eyes were no longer focused on the pair of you, but the rather messy state you had left his bed. In any other circumstance, you would’ve gladly left it clean and well-made before departing, but obviously Yugyeom had other plans.

“Oh God, you almost got me killed, Y/N.” Yugyeom exaggerated, dropping your hand when you were finally in the clear. “Jaebum hyung does not like it when I touch his bed, let alone some complete stranger to him. It took you so damn long to wake up.”

“Why was I even in his bed?”

Yugyeom looked extremely unimpressed when he heard those words. “Do you seriously not remember? Not a single thing?” His eyebrows rose in curiosity.

You shook your head, at a complete loss for words. You were still drowsy too, the traces of sleep evident in the way your eyes were drooping and your hair was an utter mess. Shivering, you only just noticed the attire you were in, or lack of.

“Where the fuck is my shirt?” Your voice trembled from your decreasing body temperature despite how infuriated you tried to sound, attempting to cover yourself with your arms to salvage a bit of decency, or as much as you could from being only in a hot pink lace bra. Yugyeom had disappeared and you prayed for his own sake that he was gone to find your shirt, or at least something to replace it.

Glancing around, you discovered that you were standing half naked in a tattoo parlour. There wasn’t a sign to show the name of the store, but you could only imagine that it was insanely popular from the numerous amounts of drawings and sketches that adorned almost every wall in the place, to help customers with choosing what kind of design they wanted to get inked. If it wasn’t a drawing, it was a shelf full of coloured inks, needles and jewellery, which you tried to avoid looking at because body piercings had never settled well with you.

“I couldn’t find your shirt, but I found one that you can wear.” Yugyeom made his presence known by speaking considerably loud, or maybe it was just because you had been in the silence for far too long.

“Does it belong to you, or your hyung?” You joked, not really wanting to deal with the man you had seen from earlier because it was easy to tell that he wasn’t the friendliest of people, or maybe he had something against you for sleeping in his bed. You pictured the scowl he had worn so apparently on his face and shivered again, grabbing the shirt and pulling it on despite Yugyeom not having answered your question yet.

“I think it’s Mark’s. Or maybe Youngjae’s. But it’s safe to wear as long as it’s not hyung’s, right?”

You nodded in response, feeling so much better now that you had recovered your modesty. You began walking around the main lobby area of the parlour, inspecting some of the gallant drawings on the walls. Some were particularly interesting to you – the symbols, flowers and one that you instantly recognised, Yugyeom’s star tattoo that was etched into his right side.

“Is this where you work?” You questioned simply, moving on from admiring the drawings to peer at the interior design of the place. A comfortable black, leather couch was placed in the left corner of the room beside the receptionist’s desk, on the wall behind it was multiple paintings of anonymous artists, in front of the couch was a glass coffee table with a vase of white flowers and the walls were painted black with more drawings done in white and grey paints. You spotted a few sculptures here and there too but you didn’t look long enough to figure out what they were of. There was two rooms opposite the coach, leading into where you assumed tattooing and piercings took place. Leather chairs placed strategically in the centre of the rooms and wooden cupboards which stored materials but everything looked strangely modern and contemporary, and you were impressed by whoever designed the whole place. Even the lights were a bright light from the LED bulbs that were installed, giving a pretty glow and setting the atmosphere. You noticed it was dark out, but light enough to signify morning.

“Wow. I know it’s your first time here and everything, but you act as if we’ve been living in entirely different worlds.”

“Well, if you’d care to explain what the hell I’m doing here, then that’d help me to make a lot more sense of things.” You countered him, raising an eyebrow when he huffed.

“I’m Kim Yugyeom, your best friend, and only friend. It’s nice to meet you.” He quipped, proud at himself for whatever stupid reason. He stuck a hand out in front of him too, as if to shake his hand but you pushed it out of the way.

“Cut the shit, Yugyeom. Just tell me what happened, from the beginning.” He grunted a response, scratching his head as if he had forgotten himself. If he did, you would’ve slapped him because the audacity of that boy.

˞˞˞˞

You bustled into Black Phoenix, a frown permanently glued onto your face as you pushed open the absurdly heavy door of the intimidating store. You had never been in here, and you never wanted to because tattoos and piercings were entirely out of your world and you wouldn’t even imagine getting anything of the sort. The idea of getting something so committal inscribed into a part of your body never quite wrapped around your head.

A bell above the door chimed upon your entry, drawing the attention of Mark, who was sat at the receptionist’s desk. He had been hunched over on the chair behind the spruce wood desk, playing PubG on his mobile phone before you diverted his attention with your entrance. He put the phone down and flashed you a charming smile, before asking, “here for a tattoo?”

You shook your head rapidly, revolted by even the thought of someone thinking you’d even consider getting a tattoo. Mark titled his head to the side, “a piercing then?”

That made you shake your head even more, despising the idea of putting a hole into your body and skin more than you did of the ink. Mark scratched the back of his neck in brief confusion before shooting back up and springing out of his chair. An amused and triumphant look was now on his face as he scribbled something down on a piece of paper and turned to you after dropping the pen on the desk.

“You’re here for a removal!” He exclaimed, feeling proud of himself for finally figuring it out. You almost felt bad for shaking your head, because the disappointment that crossed his face was so gut-wrenching. A smile suited his handsome features much better, but you weren’t about to tell him that when he didn’t even know you. The only information you knew about him was that he was new to the job and was only just learning the basics of tattoo artistry. Yugyeom had talked to you about it one night about two weeks ago and you were thankful you remembered bits of it.

“Don’t tell me there’s more than those three? Just how much is there to learn.” Mark pouted and you found yourself smiling at how inexperienced yet adorable he was. It was strangely beguiling.

“I’m here to see Yugyeom.” Your voice was croaky from how long you had been walking for in search of this damned store, without getting a drip of water at all since your breakfast which was a shocking ten hours ago. “Is he here?”

Mark hummed in thought. “I think he’s with a client at the moment, but you’re free to wait here for him.”

You took a brief look around the space, deeply impressed by the fashionable interior of the place and how well everything looked in contrast with each other. The drawings attached to the wall were the most impressive, that and the multiple sculptures scattered around the place which were made of white marble and painted clay. There was only one place to sit, which was in the left corner of the parlour so you made your way there.

“Are you Yugyeom’s girlfriend?” Mark questioned innocently. He had sat back down quietly in his seat after you had taken yours, but he found himself unable to concentrate on his game and wanting to make conversation instead, which was a first because Mark hated talking.

You almost choked at the inquiry, shooting Mark an amused look that had him looking back at you sheepishly. “No way. We’re just friends.”

“Are you here to collect a bottle of wine? Yugyeom mentioned it this morning, said an ugly girl would come by in the evening looking for him and to give it to her when she did, but I think you’re far from ugly.”

You paused to think for a moment, barely containing a smile at him and his infectious happy mood. Wine? You were almost completely sure that you were here to collect the deposit money that Yugyeom was due to give you for entering him into a drawing competition that he hadn’t had the chance to apply for himself.

“Thanks man. See you in two weeks, make sure to keep it disinfected.” Yugyeom’s voice filled the silent air, a loud clap following just as you turned your attention to Yugyeom and a slightly older man who was heavily inked, to see them shaking hands vigorously. The man gave a brief nod to Mark, who nodded back and he did the same to Yugyeom. “Two weeks. I’ll be back.”

He left without much else, the chime of the bell which signalled your entrance ringing again to signalling his exit. Yugyeom turned to you after watching his retreating back for a short while.

“You’re early.” He noted, reaching behind the desk for something which you couldn’t quite make out. It was a pad of fluorescent yellow, which was what Mark had scribbled on earlier. Before you had a chance to reply to him though, another guy walked in after coming out from the room beside where Yugyeom had come from, a petite girl following behind him, although it was more like she was hiding. She whispered something to him and without even a nod of acknowledgement towards everyone else in the room, dashed for the door with hurried footsteps and pushing open the door you struggled with admirably.

“Hyung, I know you own the place but isn’t it gross to-” Yugyeom started, but he wasn’t able to finish his sentence before the guy wrapped his arm around Yugyeom’s neck and held him in a tight headlock. “Wanna finish that sentence, punk?”

Yugyeom shook his head, eyes begging for mercy but you knew he found the whole thing entertaining. He always has loved teasing everyone, especially you, so much so that he practically lived and thrived off of it.

“Jaebum, let him go. We have a guest.” Mark spoke up, successfully diverting Jaebum’s attention from ruffling Yugyeom’s hair playfully to you. His face immediately turned into an annoyed scowl, eyes glaring at you slightly with judgement. Jaebum released his hold on Yugyeom with a push forward in your direction, making Yugyeom stumble and almost trip over his own feet.

“We’re closed. Come back tomorrow if you’re getting a tattoo.” His voice was unbelievably hostile and you found yourself copying his demeanour, a scowl and glare of your own forming.

“I never said I was here for a tattoo, did I?” You challenged him, but Yugyeom shushed you, pulling you up from the comfortable black couch and dragging you along with him to his studio. You pinched his bare arm roughly to make him drop his hold and he yelped in pain, immediately letting go of your wrist to rub the spot you pinched.

“Do you have to argue with everyone you meet?” Yugyeom sounded annoyed with you, but you only took it as good nature. Both of you were always poking fun at each other, and this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I didn’t argue with Mark.” You defended yourself but Yugyeom shook his head in dismay. He wasn’t wrong when he said you commonly argued with people, but in your defence they were always the ones who started or tried to aggravate you.

“That’s because Mark is Mark.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You were about to say, but Mark popped his head in the door and said it instead, a teasing glare directed towards Yugyeom. Good God, he was attractive. His skin was clear without a trace of a blemish and his hair was the perfect mix of styled and messy – just perfect, as if he had styled it earlier in the day but the course of today had tousled it a bit to make it what it is now.

You briefly glanced at the clock to see that it was nearing nine o’clock and you needed to get home soon and sleep decently because work was beckoning your name. Getting here was so tedious and tiresome, and you had instantly regretted not asking Yugyeom which side of town it was on and the exact address, because it was inconveniently situated all the way on the opposite side of where you worked and lived and you had gotten lost more times than you could count on your two hands. All for some money that he hadn’t even given you yet.

“Nothing. You’re just too kind for Y/N to pick a fight with.” Yugyeom smirked, pleased with the glare that deepened on your face and the smile that broadened on Mark’s. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. I think you’re fine the way you are.”

You stuck your tongue out at Yugyeom, edging closer to Mark who was giggling at your childish bicker. “Anyway, is the wine for you? You didn’t reply to me earlier.”

“It’s not. I think Yugyeom’s been mistaken, because I’m not ugly and he owes me money, not wine.” You replied, smiling warmly at Mark. He hummed in thought, glancing back towards the desk where you now noticed a brightly coloured gift bag was placed, no doubt containing a bottle of wine.

“Yugyeom owes you money? And here I thought he was rolling in money.”

Snorting, you couldn’t help but laugh at that. Mark was so innocent that you found him incredibly endearing and easy to talk to. “I agree. I mean, have you seen all the designer clothes and jewellery he wears? Not to mention his car. That goddamned Audi.”

“Yeah! He drove me to work once and I wasn’t going to say anything, but how much did it cost bro?” Mark turned to Yugyeom with a curious look, only to receive a groan in response.

“Hyung! Don’t play along with her, she’ll make you evil.” Yugyeom whined, cheeks turning a bright pink colour at the mention of his car who he named Younghee. There was nothing he loved more than his car and the day he brought it to show you, you had fallen to the floor in a heap of uncontrollable laughter, because who on earth names their car, let alone the name Younghee.

“Mark, you know what name he gave his car?”

Mark turned to look at you incredulously, disbelief coating his dazzling features. “He named his car?”

“Yup. He named it Younghee. Kim Younghee.”

Both of you looked at you each other for a fleeting moment, neither of you saying anything before you both erupted into laughter at the same time. You had to clutch your stomach from laughing so hard and Mark had rolled onto the floor in a similar way you had the first time. Yugyeom had his arms crossed at his chest, growing agitated at you and Mark for making fun of him.

When you finally calmed down, which took a considerable amount of time and honestly, you were still occasionally giggling to yourself whenever you met Mark’s eyes, or there was a moment too long of silence, Yugyeom led you out of his room and back to the main lobby. Jaebum had disappeared long ago.

“If the wine’s not yours, who’s is it?” Yugyeom wondered aloud to which you shrugged your shoulders at. “We can just share it.”

Somehow, within the next ten minutes, you had given up on getting home and to the warmth of your bed and decided on playing a game of truth or dare where you would drink for everything you didn’t want to do or answer with Mark and Yugyeom, and Jaebum who decided to join too, much to his and your dismay. Yugyeom promised he would give you the money he owed by the end of the night, just to ensure that you wouldn’t run away if he or the boys gave you a particularly harsh challenge or if the alcohol ran out. You doubted the latter though, because whoever the wine was gifted from, gave you a whole three bottle set of deluxe Dom Perignon.

“Truth or dare?” You asked Yugyeom, an evil smirk appearing on your face as you tried to conjure up some good questions. He had been the sore loser of the game of rock, paper, scissors and you were more than glad to kick off the game. “Truth.”

You decided to start out easy, not wanting to say all the good ones right at the start but still wanting to start as fun as you could, with Yugyeom chickening out and choosing truth. “What’s your most embarrassing memory?”

Yugyeom visibly gulped and shifted uncomfortably in his spot, glancing towards each of you before taking a deep breath and answering. “I was with all my friends – hyung, Jackson, Jinyoung, Youngjae and Bam. They were pranking me with some stupid hidden camera for Jackson’s Youtube channel and broke a bottle of wine. They blamed it on me and I almost died of embarrassment on the spot, thinking I dropped some million dollar wine when it actually only cost like twenty. God, I wanted to kill all of you after I found out.”

All of you were in fits of laughter at the story. You didn’t even have to be there to picture what the scene must’ve been like, and it was a damn funny one. Yugyeom was a naive person and easily took the blame for others even if he knew he wasn’t at fault just so issues could be resolved quickly and forgotten easily. His friends loved him for being so kind, but it didn’t stop them from messing with him equally as much.

The night progressed and each of you got remarkably drunk, too out of mind to play the game properly anymore. Most of the wine had been devoured by the five of you, Youngjae had joined after waking up from a nap and coming down to find you all heavily invested in the game. Now it was your turn for the umpteenth time and you were amazed at how there was still more to be asked. Yugyeom pointed a lazy finger at you, barely able to hold it up with how dizzy his head was feeling. None of you had actually outed on a challenge, but the wine was disappearing like a cloud of smoke.

“Y/N, I dare you to get a tattoo. Right now.” His words were slurred, but you heard him clearly enough. “What? Are you fucking crazy. No way. Pass me the wine.”

You stuck your hand out, expecting to receive the green bottle any second but it never came. Jaebum was smirking, looking around at the rest of the guys who were egging you on, stating that a tattoo really wasn’t that bad and that you’d look cool with one.

“Oops, what can you do. Looks like we’re all out of wine.” Jaebum stated, a mischievous glint to his eyes. You refused to believe him and stumbled to your feet, tipping your head back and dangling each bottle over your tongue, only to find that they really were empty. Disappointed, you staggered around the parlour, looking for any sight of a fridge or stash of alcohol. You knew two of the boys lived upstairs. Surely they would have some alcohol there, they were all guys after all.

“Take me upstairs. There’s alcohol there, I’m sure of it.” You demanded, placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to look fierce but failing miserably when they all laughed at you.

“That’s against the rules, Y/N. You have to play fair; Mark streaked down the street, Jaebum has a mullet now and I got a tongue piercing. Youngjae joined late but even he’s done more than you! It’s just a tattoo.”

Sighing heavily, you gave up on trying to win against them. “I’ll get the tattoo. But you have to get the alcohol because there’s no way I’m going in there this sober.” You were far from sober, but not drunk enough to have enough courage to do this.

They agreed and each of them went their separate directions. Youngjae retreated to his room for the night, Mark went to prepare Yugyeom’s studio, Yugyeom went to wash his face with cold water to wake himself up and Jaebum went to retrieve the bottle of soju he had upstairs. You followed Mark to Yugyeom’s studio, pestering him about the whole process because as much as you hated to admit it, you were nervous as hell.

“I don’t have a tattoo myself but if the boys are so addicted to it, I can’t imagine it to be that bad. And hey, if you get scared, you can just hold my hand.”

Mark flashed you a blindingly bright smile, wiping down the seat and prepping it with a layer of cling film. He wiped down the tattoo gun and needles too, making you gulp loudly to which he chose to ignore because he knew it wouldn’t be nice to make fun of you when you were getting something etched into your skin for life. It was a commitment he wasn’t sure he’d like to take either.

Yugyeom sketched a few things for you after returning from the bathroom before you finally settled on one with a brisk nod of your head, afraid that all the alcohol you consumed that evening would come back up if you dared to speak. It was a long sequence of sakura blossom flowers, and it would be done in white ink on your lower back. Yugyeom warned that the white ink would be much worse than the black if you were to remove it, but you decided if you were going to get it done regardless, you would stay committed and not remove it, so might as well get something that you’ll actually enjoy seeing and not grimacing over each time.

Mark stayed true to his word and held your hand whenever you let out a yelp of pain. You would be lying if you said it didn’t soothe you immensely. The feeling of his warm hand tightening on yours whenever you got startled was incredibly nice and you may have feigned pain a couple of times just to feel it again. If he noticed, he chose not to say anything and the same went for Yugyeom. They had the decency to cover you with a warm blanket and shield the bits of skin that you exposed from taking off your shirt and of course, to keep you warm in the chilly parlour.

Jaebum never came back with the soju, but that was already expected and you were slightly relieved because he would’ve no doubt made you more tense with his presence and ruin the calm atmosphere you had going with just Mark and Yugyeom with you. Everything felt calm and familiar, which eased your racing heart a little.

Somewhere along the way, you must’ve fallen asleep because when you came to consciousness was the moment when Yugyeom and Jaebum entered the room earlier this morning.

˞˞˞˞

“So, you’re telling me, that you coerced me into getting a tattoo, while I was drunk out of my mind. And I slept in Jaebum’s room because there was nowhere else you could bring me.” You stared at him in disbelief, impatiently tapping your foot as you waited for an answer.

Yugyeom snickered, biting his lip to try and refrain himself when you glared intensely at him. “Pretty much, yeah. But don’t be mad at me, I know you enjoyed holding Mark’s hand. And the tattoo looks pretty good!”

“Hmph, yeah right. Show me what it looks like, asshole.”

Yugyeom manoeuvred around you, grabbing your phone from your awaiting hand to snap a picture of your lower back where the tattoo was laid, now etched into your skin for the rest of your life. The shutter of the camera went off at the same time as the bell chime of the parlour, signalling someone’s entrance and you turned your head back past Yugyeom to see Mark.

He greeted you with a warm smiling, bounding over to look at what you and Yugyeom were doing and making a sound of understanding. Even with the insanely early hour of the morning, he looked breath-taking and stunning, as if he had just come out of filming a commercial.

“Last night was quite the event, huh?” Mark jibbed, trying to dodge you in a failed attempt as you reached your hand out to grab him for the comment, chasing after him as Yugyeom stared at the photograph he took on your phone.

Yugyeom really wasn’t lying. You could see the obvious skill and care he took into sketching the flowers itself, and then inking them onto your skin, aware of how big of a commitment it was for you. The white blossoms had pink and brown accents and looked ethereal on your skin and you clapped him firmly on the back, feeling proud of his talent after seeing it so up-handed and personally. He smirked knowingly at you.

“I wouldn’t fuck up on something like that, Y/N. Don’t you know how skilled I am?”

That comment made you chase after him like you did Mark, disturbing Jaebum who was already in a sour mood as he came waltzing down the stairs like he owned the place. You know he did actually own the place, but it’s a figure of speech. Youngjae trailed behind him, looking as bright as ever and immediately rushed to your side, eager to see you tattoo after hearing about it from Jaebum. You figured Jaebum slept in Youngjae’s room last night after Yugyeom pleaded to let you stay in his room.

Yugyeom poked you lightly on the back where the tattoo was, making you whine in pain but both of you were grinning madly, amused by the whole situation even if you were fearful and drunk at the start.

His eyes trailed to where your hand was gently tracing the outline of the tattoo, feeling all of the crevices and bumps it had for the moment until it became fully settled into your skin. “Addicted yet?” He asked, eyes glimmering with a thrill that you would find yourself growing familiar with.

“Not quite yet,” you smirked back, but you know it wasn’t going to be long until you were etched in ink all over.

[jeongyeonandsunflowers]

‘I'm saluting to your lips’ ~ Kim Woojin Soulmate AU ~ Part One

I know this took ages, I'm sorry, but here is part one, it was getting way too long, so I thought I’d split it up, otherwise it would have ended up really rushed at the end. and no one needs that. I also proofread this like 6 times so if there’s a mistake I need to be taken out. 

Not a lot of things are certain in this world, but of the few things that are, finding my soulmate was the most exciting. Knowing that someone somewhere was absolutely made for me? That was the most incredible thing I could ever think of.

I used to be teased in school, kids told me that I didn’t have a soulmate, and if I did they would take one look at me and want nothing to do with me. But I knew I had one, somewhere in this world.

See, I have proof, the squiggles and weird lines that pop up on my arm every so often, they’ve been existent since I was 13, that’s when they start showing up on everyone, your soulmate writes on their own body you get to see it too, in the exact same place the exact same handwriting, and size, its all the same.

Some people find their soulmates straight away, they’re lucky enough to have their soulmates live close by or even be someone they’ve known forever.

My friends Bailey and Felix found each other on Felix’s birthday, Bailey couldn’t see her own drawings yet, but Felix could see his, and what he had written on her arm just seconds before in class, “if you let me copy your homework I’ll love you forever.” And sure enough, in his slightly messy handwriting on his left knee, as it was on hers, was the same phrase. To keep the story short, he squealed like a little piglet and ran out of class, later showing Bailey why, and they cried together, their soulmate was their best friend.

That’s usually everyone’s dream, that its someone they know, that way they don’t have to learn everything about a new person. But that’s sort of what I dread, there are only three people in my life that I can stand, the first being Felix and Bailey who are already soulmates, and then Chris, he’s two years older than me, and been my best friend since I could remember, I used to have a massive crush on the guy, but then I realised how great of a friend he was, and how much I needed o value him as my best friend rather than my crush.

That and on Chris’ 13th birthday drawings started popping up in his arm that weren’t mine, and that’s when I knew there was no chance anyway.

On the day of my own birthday I become indescribably excited, I woke up that morning and before I could register it was my birthday, I looked at my hand and saw tiny symbols on my palm, not remembering writing them, it suddenly clicked in my head, these were my soulmates symbols, my soulmate wrote this, they did this. I screamed. I quite literally screamed, my mum came into my room, looking panicked wondering why I was screaming, I showed her my hand and she screamed as well, then raised the question. What was it on that was on my hand?

I asked everyone I could, everyone that might have an answer, anyone I could find, and no one had any idea. No one except Chris.

I hadn’t seen him that day, not until the night of my birthday, going out for dinner with my family, Chris, Felix and Bailey, who basically counted as family anyway. New symbols had appeared throughout the day and I still had no clue what they were or what they were supposed to mean or represent. Chris sat next to me, and took one glance at my hand, and asked, “since when did you know Korean?” and suddenly it made sense, they weren’t weird little drawings, just a different language. Oh no, it’s a different language.

“its Korean? Like? From Korea, Korean?”

“yes Y/n from Korea, Korean,”

“my soulmate is Korean?”

“it seems like it.” 

The weeks went on, the Korean continued, and I began trying to learn the language, Chris tried helping translate, since his family spoke Korean at home, but he couldn’t be around to translate every word that was written, so I had to start learning myself. It seemed that my soulmate had also begun to try learning English, throughout the weeks I saw messily written “hello” and “I love you” because obviously that was an important phrase.

 It went like that for 5 years, we both bettered our second languages, each becoming better and more fluent, I started seeing reminders pop up, some in Korean, some in English, I was starting to understand his lifestyle, they’re training for something, but I can’t figure out what yet. Felix, Bailey and I were still friends, and still trying to decipher everything.

Chris and his family moved to Korea after my 14th birthday, he kept in contact for a while and then he just sort of faded away and only Felix had been graced with his presence, and even if it was apparently the equivalent to passing words and phrases, at least he had some contact. At least I knew he was doing well.  

Apparently, Chris had started “training” as well, and went by ‘Chan’ now. Felix said that he was trying to become an Idol, which was like a celebrity for us, he was getting into the kpop industry and so our friends got into it too, Bailey and Felix became devoted to it, they kept up with all the latest news just waiting for a glimpse of Chris, or Chan I guess. It made me wonder if maybe my soulmate was doing the same kind of training.

I’d always assumed it was something sporty, but now I understand why “drink more water to help voice” was written almost every day for 3 years.

I started looking into kpop too, waiting, and hoping that one day I might see someone who I feel could be my soulmate, but no one ever made me spark like I thought I would. I started to lose hope, realising tat there were many different obstacles in the way of us being together. I was a broke uni student now, I had no means of getting to Korea, and it seems as if my soulmate had no intentions coming here either.    

 But still I remained optimistic, I had to be, I’d been dreaming about my soulmate since I could hold a comprehensive thought, I would fine them one day and that is a promise I made to myself and my soulmate. I couldn’t give up and I wouldn’t.

The day it happened is a day I won’t soon forget, I was in the middle of class at university, when I got hit with a sudden sharp and almost unbearable pain in my wrist, I saw words start to etch themselves across my skin, forming words I was yet to recognise, my squiggles never pained me like this before, it felt like something was wrong, this wasn’t a common occurrence, in fact I don’t think anyone on record, has had this happen before.

The professor stopped the class since I was making so much noise, he took one glance at my wrist and sent me straight to the office to find the nurse.

She sat me down on one of the plastic chairs, looked over my wrist, poking the other squiggles, asking me what language they were, whether the rest of them hurt as well, to which I replied, that no they don’t, she grabbed out her phone headed to google translate and did her best to translate the other words on my arm, in hopes that maybe there was some sort of clue.

She translated the last one, fading on the palm of my hand ‘오늘 오후 1시 30 분에 문신’

“well love, it looks like this might be the answer, it still doesn’t make any sense, but by the looks of things, your soulmate got a tattoo today.”

She was right, that didn’t make sense, usually tattoos didn’t affect the other half, but that came to be the genuine outcome. There truly was no explanation.

I called bailey to tell her about what happened, but as soon as she picked up the phone she was ahead of the gun and already talking.

“oh my god y/n you’re not going to believe what I just found out! Chris found his soulmate, apparently, he was out travelling in Seoul and this girl bumped into him, he accidentally spilt his coffee all over her white shirt, she ran before he could even say anything to her. Anyway, so he gets back to his dorm and sees a new note on his hand, that says, “reminder: call Carmel about cute guy who spilt coffee on me,” and then Chris was like well that’s me I guess and wrote his number on his hand just below I with his name! who knew that dork would be so smooth right?”

My world felt like it was crashing down around me, not because Chris had his soulmate but because he didn’t call to tell me. He promised, ever since his 13th birthday that he would call as soon as he found the person, and he didn’t. I suddenly felt betrayed, I told bailey that I would have to call her back, and then immediately bombarded Felix for Chris’ number. He gave it over almost immediately, I must have scared him because he’s never been that easy to break before.

I sat there contemplating whether it was a good idea or not, he hasn’t spoken to me since I was 14 but he is the person is known longest, I decide to call later.  

Later ended up being 30 seconds later, soon I was met with the ringing, and then someone greeting me in Korean, I heard Chan and I started ranting.

“listen here prick, you promised me that would message or call me as soon as you found your soulmate, and I had to find out from Bailey? What the fuck is up with that? Come on Chris, you’re the one who made that promise, you’re the one who told me it would be okay when you moved away, you told me that you would still talk to me, that it would be the same. And now I haven’t heard from you in almost 6 years, I don’t even recognise your voice, who even are you?”

There was silence, for a little too long, and then the person cleared their throat on the other end.

“I am really, really sorry, Chan is a dick for doing that to you, and I didn’t know he was even capable of being rude, here’s not here right now, he left his phone when he went out with Jamie, ahh that’s his soulmate or whatever. Umm I’m Woojin, I’ll yell at him for you when he comes back, what’s your name so I know who I’m defending?”

“oh um, I’m so sorry for going off at you for that I’m, I’m really really sorry, my names y/n but you don’t have to go off at Chris for me, I’ll just call back later, but thank you.” “that’s okay Y/n it was nice talking to you.”

”You too Woojin thank you for listening to me rant even though you didn’t have any choice”

I hung up the phone, smiling and annoyed at the same time, I looked down at my wrist again and noticed words that weren’t there before.

“reminder: tell Chan about call from y/n, ask him when he got mean.” 

[keepyourgoodheart]

Despite almost definitive perceptions of the forbiddance of permanent tattoos in Islam, a snapshot, both historical and contemporary, of Muslims throughout the world convey a very different story from the monolithic narrative that is often adopted.  

In terms of religious posturing, it is important to outline exactly where scripture falls on this issue and how different conclusions and consequent religious authority (or lack thereof) have developed accordingly. Sunni Islam falls decidedly on the line of prohibiting tattoos, as based on Qur’anic scripture and Hadiths, however, converts with pre-existing tattoos are generally not regarded as having broken the religious prohibition. In terms of the Qur’an, Chapter 4: Verses 117-120 provide the basis of Sunni understanding that tattoos are forbidden as they constitute changing the creation of God.

If you wash your hands, grab your nearest Qur’an, and turn to these verses, you will find something curious: the language is a bit more nebulous than anything that could possibly give way to a hard line religious conclusion. Instead, the verses reference the determination of the Shaitaan (Satan) to lead believers astray by, among other things, encouraging the alteration of God’s creation. Thus, the act of tattooing the body is synonymous with an action guided by evil, in terms of Sunni religious analysis.

With respect to Hadiths, the Sunni ban of tattoos finds more sure footing as there are narrations of the Prophet Muhammad (saw) outwardly condemning tattoos and those who give them per Bukhari. As a residual issue, there is also a long-standing belief that tattoos prevent proper wudu (cleansing for spiritual and physical hygiene). However, given that tattoos are completely permeable, there is nothing about tattoos which prevent the skin from being cleansed and, thus, invalidating the purification process. Whether or not the content of one’s tattoos—images or words—could invalidate wudu, however, is another inquiry altogether.

The Shi’a tradition, on the other hand, is largely critical of the authenticity of hadiths thus granting the narrations with less reverence than that granted by Sunnis. However, because of the pervasive anti-Shi’a sentiment that stems from Sunni supremacy within the global Muslim community, permanent tattoos, while not forbidden, are strongly disfavored and looked down upon by Shi’a scholars because of the underlying desire to fall more in line with Sunni traditions and thereby lessen the gravity of anti-Shi’a discrimination. Nonetheless, some Shi’a communities’ standing traditions of religious tattoos feature various Shi’a symbols and illustrations of Imams.

Despite these various religious decrees surrounding tattoos, Muslims—both Sunni and Shi’a—have adorned themselves with tattoos of cultural display for centuries. Pathans of central and south Asia are known for tattooing themselves with Sheen Kaal, or etchings to deflect the evil eye. Often times these tattoos would be placed on their faces as prime anatomical real estate for guarding against dark energy.

In Algeria’s Aures Mountains, there resides a tribe in which the women have elaborate facial tattoos in accordance with pre-Islamic cultural traditions. Under this tradition, the tattoos serve as both methods of beautification and healing. With growing literacy in these once secluded rural spaces, however, the tradition of facial tattoos in these Algerian tribes is waning as their populations learn that tattoos are doctrinally forbidden in Sunni Islam.

Outside of longstanding tattoo traditions among Muslim communities in certain pockets of the world, more and more Muslims without such cultural predispositions have started taking ink to skin. In October 2016, Huck Magazine published a feature piece on Kendyl Noor Aurora, a fully tattooed hijab sporting Muslim woman. Although Aurora got most of her tattoos before she converted to Islam, the feature piece revealed that she viewed her tattoos as visual representations of her love and devotion to God—just like her hijab.

Aurora is not alone in this belief. Many tattooed Muslims do not believe that their tattoos serve as any kind of hindrance to their faith and, similarly, do not believe that they are any less Muslim for having them.

In fact, here are a few Muslims, who speak about their favorite ink and decision to get tattooed as weighed with their Islamic faith.

“Behind almost every tattoo is a story and mine is no different. To some people, tattooing is an extreme action, but to others, tattoos offer peace in knowing that one’s story will always be with them, forever on their skin. My most significant tattoo takes up my entire back and is dedicated to my late grandfather Mohammed Khalleel.

While growing up in New York, I was lost and was rapidly heading down a path of destruction, to a point of no return, to a life in prison or just another dead person on a New York street. I was a product of my environment, poisoning everything in my path. It was as though I was in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper until my grandfather offered to have me live with him and my grandmother in Florida while I completed high school.

My grandfather was exactly what a good Muslim should be: he knew exactly who I was and he never judged or treated me differently. Instead, he chose to welcome a troubled kid into his home and help him not only find himself but become a responsible man in the process. Living with my grandparents changed my life. My grandfather never had a son, so I became the one he never had.

On December 11, 2011, my grandfather passed away and I was devastated. On the day of his funeral, I went down to the bottom of his grave, received his body and lay him to rest gracefully and with pride. Since then, I have tried to live up to the man he wanted me to be.

I am currently serving in the US ARMY, and I am making my family, friends and colleagues, very proud with all that I do in my life and with how I have been able to turn it all around. I owe all of this to my grandfather. He gave me a second chance at life. This is my story behind my tattoo and why it is part of my life story. The main and largest portion of my tattoo is a verse from Surah al-Baqarah, which reads, ‘Who, when a misfortune overtakes them say, Surely we belong to God and to Him shall we return.'”

“My decision to get a tattoo was based on simply feeling comfortable in my own skin and being able to express what I find beautiful on my own body. Having a tattoo doesn’t make me any less Muslim. I pray, I fast during Ramadan, and I don’t let my tattoo make me feel less grounded in my faith. There are Muslims without tattoos who commit far graver acts while pointing fingers at those with ink, which makes very little sense. My favorite tattoo is of a flower on my back. It represents exactly what I have described here—an expression of beauty on my body.”

“I have about 19 tattoos. I got my first tattoo when I was 19-years-old: A tiny heart with a square inside of it, tattooed on the right side of my ribs. It was done very poorly and not in a tattoo shop. It’s not something I show off but I adore the memories behind it.

Tattoos have always intrigued me since I was a teenager. I knew it was something that was not permitted in Islam but I also knew that Muslims have been getting tattooed for centuries. I struggled with the fact that I may be rejected from the Muslim community because of my tattoos but quickly decided that it really doesn’t matter what people think, because at the end of the day, Allah knows what’s is in my heart and knows me best.

As long as I remain faithful to my religion, that’s all that matters. All of my tattoos have special meanings behind them. I’m currently getting work done on a piece that is inspired by geometric Islamic art, located on my left forearm. This piece and my hand/ finger tattoos are the most meaningful tattoos I have. The ones on my hand and fingers are inspired by plants and Mehndi designs. Both are things I love and I also bring these designs into my own art as an artist. So why wouldn’t I put them on my body forever?”

“I grew up a Shia-Ismaili Muslim, so my childhood is littered with small glances of half-sleeves and ankle tattoos of the more alternative auntie and uncle population. In general, I never had an issue with body modification, my parents only had slight concerns. My dad actually took me to get my first six piercings throughout my teen years and didn’t bat an eye to dying my hair green. My mother was less sympathetic, of course, but still, they all just sung the “no tattoos or we’ll peel your skin off,” song when I turned 18-years-old.

At 13, my father decorated my room with Ankh’s to help me understand my femininity—I gave myself a tiny stick-n-poke tattoo of one when I was 15. They have yet to notice it, five years later.

My real tattoos didn’t come until I left home and moved to Los Angeles. I come from a home of mixed religious traditions, and my mother has always kept Ganapathi (Hindu Remover of Obstacles) as her de facto patron saint. On my first Jummah in Los Angeles, I went and got ‘Siddivinayaka’ or ‘Long Live Lord Ganesh’ on the back of my neck.

My other tattoos play into my mysticism. The broken chains are for the chains we Shia’s beat ourselves with during Ashura. Even though our pain binds us to this earth, our souls remain unfettered. The noose is for Hazrat Mansur Al-Hallaj, Sufi Saint who was martyred for stating in ambiguity ‘I am the Truth’” I keep the noose he died on close to me, to remind myself that being a mystic makes you an enemy to broader populations–our death is just as guaranteed as our devotion.

My tattoos are expressions and extensions of Islam; direct adornments that heighten my relationship with Allah and Ahl Al-Bayt.

To those who say my tattoos are sins, my response is that it is only through sins that we can create a relationship with divinity. I see God as the purest manifestation of empathy, ink or no ink, and I simply exist to be a devotee to that empathy.”

“I’m a practicing South Asian Muslim with tattoos and piercings, things that aren’t common amongst my peers. When they find out, frightened stares melt into passive aggressive comments. ‘I mean, they’re cool but I would never get one. It’s against the religion.’  I’ve been having this conversation since I was sixteen when piercings and tattoos became both a coping mechanism and form of self-expression. My creative soul wanted to honor my journey through art. The adrenaline rush through the process was a bonus.

Much to my mom’s dismay, I sat under the gun at eighteen to get a small tattoo on my hip, which has transformed into a large piece featuring a lotus, crescent moon, and a representation of the lote tree from the Q’uran with some jewels representing a ring my grandfather wears. The lote-tree, a tree bearing fruit where angels play in Heaven, represents knowledge, but it’s also a tribute to my faith.

My family lives on my shoulder, where they help me bear the load of the world. A lily for Mom and orchids for grandmother, aunt and uncle, surrounded by mendhi designs as a tribute to my South Asian roots, are always with me. These pieces are huge and peak through my clothing. They serve as the label by which my friends in South Asian circles deem me the rebel. I wouldn’t change a thing about how I tell my story or honor my journey.”

“My name is Rashed Alison but many people just call me Rodi. I’m 38 years old and I have been living in Sweden since 1990. I am a tattoo artist and have been tattooing since 2010. I own my own studio—Ink On Skin Tattoo—in Malmö, Sweden. My views about tattooing and religion are quite open. Since I am Shi’a Muslim, it is neither forbidden nor haram for us to tattoo ourselves because we do not believe that it stands in the way of proper wudu (the washing of our face, arms, and feet before prayer). Tattoo ink is inserted underneath the skin and it does not prevent water from cleansing skin during wudu. I know that for Sunni Muslims, however, it is haram to have a tattoo.

I believe that God is the only one who has the right answers, and on the Day of Judgment, God will punish me if I ever did something wrong. As for what people say or think— I do not care so much about that. More important than what is on our skin, I believe that God examines our actions toward others in life and how we treat fellow human beings. I just want to say to everyone: Do what feels right for you and in your heart, and do not worry what others say or think. People always have an opinion about everything, but who cares? If it feels right for you then do it.”

The Muslims featured above represent a large and perpetually growing community of tattooed Muslims who are still firm in their faith and their religious identity. Their tattoos, however, are not a new development in the Muslim community—Muslims have been getting tattooed throughout the world for various purposes, be they cultural or spiritual.

Their stories reveal that they are not as taboo or as rare in the Muslim community as many would believe. In fact, they are slowly becoming more widely done as religious understanding surrounding tattoos continues to adjust.

If you’re Muslim and tattooed, share a pic of your favorite tattoo(s) with us at BG with the hashtag #BGMuslimAndTatted. We would love to feature you here.