Prompt: Everyone in the world is born with a very unique tattoo on their ankle. Every time they fall in love with someone, that person's tattoo appears somewhere else on their body.

Alyx hated mirrors, because they were a constant reminder of him.

It was there, a single blotch on her collarbone, a tiny embellished crescent moon, Finn's tattoo that was hers now. She had hated herself for falling for him and his honey-gold hair and electric blue eyes, the surfer guy who would never be hers, but when she saw her tattoo on his forearm, a seven-pointed star inside a circle, that rush of pure joy she felt was stronger than any drug, pure ecstasy. She couldn't stay away.

She should have known better, seeing him freckled with tattoos of girls who had loved him in vain, but she was determined to be the one who lasted. Finn was real, and he was hers. Salty kisses on the beach, glances stolen over triple-scoop chocolate ice cream cones, and a perfect movie night with burned popcorn. He was a beautiful disaster.

Hours were spend memorizing his tattoos, sprinkled across his tan arms and shoulders, in all shapes, but she knew hers, the one that matched the seven-pointed star on her ankle that she had traced with a pen as a kid, wondering who would hear her heart on their skin. Their permanent love, their universe of each other.

But no amount of hate could make that tattoo go away. No level of malice could erase that scar Finn had left on her – not only on her skin but on her heart. She tugged up her collar, hiding the crescent moon from view.

"Not today."

---

Troy liked to watch his grandmother show the grandkids her tattoos and explain them, like she did every year when she came over for Christmas. Her face would light up and she'd smile as she recounted her past crushes as a teenager.

"This was Henry French – oh, he was a rascal, do you remember him, Pop?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, dear."

"I think every girl at school had his tattoo, but he never had any of ours. Never found love, it's a shame."

"I'm gonna find love!" Britt shouted indignantly, and Grandma tousled her curly hair.

"I'm sure you will, dear. And this one here, Spencer Young. He was my date before senior year, when I met your grandfather." She sighed. "An arrow and a triangle, I'll never forget. Pop was just a teacher's aide then for my English class, you know. It was meant to be."

"What about that one, Grandma?" Rosa pointed to a small blot of ink on her grandmother's shoulder.

"Oh, this? Larry Pink. That was second grade, mind..."

"Grandma, you were kind of a player!" Maddie squealed, and the grandkids tittered.

"Oh, stop!" She retaliated. "And don't you try to hide that tattoo on your leg, Maddie, I see it!"

"Maddie!" Her father thundered, and she squeaked and hurried away.

"You'll find love, all of you."Grandma beamed. "I know it."

---

"Did you hear?" Cate shrieked through the phone, and Em leaned away from the speaker, wincing.

"Hear what? I was writing a heart-wrenching scene and you disrupted my psyche."

"Psyche, whatever. Ooh, who dies?"

"Ivan."

"Good, he's a butt. But anyways, mega-news!"

"Bigger than extended death by gunshot wounds?"

"Bigger."

"Okay, but make it quick. My parents grounded me because they caught me looking at baby names. It was for a character!"

Em settled back on her pillows, closing her laptop, while Cate chattered at top speed.

"Okay, you know the convention you went to, and you actually got to meet Kade Kaplan? So anyways, the media was stalking there, obviously, and I was stalking the media – you were so lucky you got to go, I had to watch from here! But anyways, I was stalking all the new news feeds about him and I saw something. Mega-big news! Everyone's been freaking out about it for hours, my phone just about blew up with alerts. I'm telling you, everyone's on this, everyone! My favorite bloggers are going non-stop, and someone started cranking out fanfictions and stuff, it's gone global in zero-point-two seconds!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. What's the news?" Em put the phone on speaker and walked to the bathroom, where she began brushing her hair. It looked like a wreck after sleeping and lazing around all weekend and was in desperate need of rescue. She had just turned on her straightener when Cate screamed from the phone.

"Kade Kaplan has a new tattoo!"

Em dropped her hairbrush with a thud, then picked it up, flushing with embarrassment. She didn't even like Kade Kaplan – he was a big media star, and she just liked the show he was in, Façade, about superheroes and stuff. It was a pretty good show, and Kade was one of the stars, and, okay, he was pretty attractive, and she might have the slightest crush on him, but just the slightest! Not at all like Cate, who had just about fainted when Em had told her she was going to a Façade convention in town. She had somehow managed to shake hands and get a picture with the superstar without looking like a total idiot, except her hands were probably grossly sweaty and her hastily done makeup looked ridiculous, and definitely not like her. The real her stared back in the mirror – messy-bun hair, a constantly tired and bored expression, and very unremarkable. Kade Kaplan had seen hundreds of people that day, but him falling in love with one of them? Impossible.

"Are you sure?" She asked Kate, jumping back on to her bed and pulling up Google searches on her laptop for Kade Kaplan and his new love interest.

"Positive! It's on his wrist and was partially obscured by his shirt sleeve, but someone caught it and the picture is all over the Internet. There are even rewards for the girl who has the tattoo, and they say you can meet Kade Kaplan in real life! Can you imagine?" Cate dissolved into squeals.

"So they haven't found her yet?" Em held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, zooming in on the already blurry image of the tattoo, which only turned it into blocky black and tan pixels.

"They can't get the photo to work, but a blog I know is working on putting it in high-res. They said they'll post by tonight. Can you believe it? Kade Kaplan found love! Oh, I hope she's wonderful!"

"Didn't he already have a thing going with Mia Whatshername?" She was the leading lady in Façade who played alongside Kade, and she had it all: long blonde hair, deep green eyes, and elfin looks that could charm even a blind homeless person. She was always prancing in front of the camera, getting the best shots of her gorgeous dresses and adoring fans. Em could appreciate her acting skills, but thought she was a little stuck-up. Kade, on the other hand, was just like what he looked like on film – shy, but kind, and smiling that quirky half-smile she had admired a thousand times.

"No, that's all talk. And he didn't get Mia's tattoo, did he?" Cate squealed again, at a much higher pitch. "Can you believe this? Our true love is all grown up!"

"Ugh, Cate, stop... He's not twelve." Em groaned, rolling on her back.

"He's seventeen and one-quarter and perfect!"

Em pulled down her sock to look at her own tattoo, a tribal-looking half-butterfly wing, no larger than a quarter. She imagined that tattoo on Kade Kaplan's wrist, just hidden by his sleeve, a secret he never wanted to give away. Kade Kaplan's tattoo looked almost like a fancy Egyptian ankh, on his upper left arm, a tattoo that Cate wore proudly but Em never had. She only liked Kade Kaplan, she didn't love him, and that tattoo was everywhere. Fans of Façade sported their Kade Kaplan tattoos and showed them off wherever they went. Em could appreciate Kade's work, but how could she ever feel like that for someone she had never met?

Or had met, but just once.

It hadn't been too awkward, actually. She had just waited forever in line and then went up to him and shook his hand. He was dressed in a polo shirt and nicer pants, and she was wearing her favorite skirt and cute top, one of the only cute outfits she owned, with a slim gold headband and matching bracelets. Cate had insisted on doing her makeup before she went, and her eyelashes felt strange – she had to force herself not to rub them. It was so unreal, shaking hands with someone known all over the world for his skill and looks. Then they had posed for a photo, and he had gone in for a hug, which surprised her, and the camera shutter clicked just as she was laughing, half-turned to him. As she was walking away she had turned and called out to him.

"Thank you so much! I think your work is amazing and you're incredibly talented, thank you for sharing that with the world."

He had frozen for a second, then laughed. "You know, you're the first one here who has said that to me. Thank you, Em." And, cheeks blazing, she had hurried away.

Ugh, thinking back it had been pretty embarrassing... But she would never admit it. And she had actually met Kade Kaplan! That was crazy amazing in its own right.

"How many people at the convention had his tattoos?" Cate begged, and Em laughed.

"It's kind of funny, actually, some of them had them on their shirts. The pattern, I mean. They were showing them off too, of course, one girl took off her shoe and showed everyone, she had it on her heel."

"Awesome! I would buy that shirt!"

Cate's side of the line was silent for a second, which never happened, and Em brought the phone closer to her ear.

"Hello?"

"They posted the new picture! I'm sending it to you right now!" Cate screamed, and Em pulled up her email, heart thumping in her chest.

Never. No freaking possible way. Stop being stupid, it would never be you.

Cate's email appeared, Subject: OMG!!! <3, and Em clicked it open, zooming in on the sleeve.

Peeking out from under the sleeve was a small dark spot, but when she got closer it began to take form, into a half-butterfly wing that was all too familiar. No. Possible. Way.

Em looked down at her ankle, where the wing's pair was, and, for the first time in her life, admitted she loved Kade Kaplan.

When she opened her eyes again another tattoo marked her, on her wrist, an Egyptian ankh, but much fancier. A match.

---

Aldo brandished his forearm at the tattoo artist, who raised a bushy eyebrow.

"You sure you want it covered up, buddy?" He asked, and Aldo nodded firmly. The memories were too painful, and he had enough scarring already. This would stay with him forever, a sign of his failure.

"Okay. I can change it to something else, if you want. You got a sweetheart you want done, or just cover it up?"

Aldo shook his head. "Just cover it up, please."

The tattoo artist shrugged. "It's your choice, bud. Just know that tattooing over these kinds of marks can be... A sensitive process. Do you still want to proceed?"

"As soon as possible, please."

The tattoo artist was getting ready, but it was all a blur to Aldo, who was staring at the mark on his arm, numb.

They were driving, and it was an ordinary day. He had taken her to dinner and they had laughed until their sides ached. Lorelei, as ethereal as her name sounded, shining jewel-bright. Down the highway, going the speed limit, whatever, and then bam. Crash. That was it. She was gone before the paramedics came. He held her in his arms, wiped away her tears, promised her it was going to be okay...

"You all right there?" The tattoo artist asked as he readied his equipment, and Aldo shook himself out of his reverie.

"Fine. Let's get this done."

The tattoo artist cleaned the area of Lorelei's tattoo and applied the transfer paper, and when he pulled it away a single black heart remained.

"I thought it was appropriate, but it it's not there are other options."

Aldo had to wait a moment to trust himself to speak. "It's fine."

A smear of some substance was rubbed over the tattoo and the tattoo artist glanced up at Aldo again.

"Last chance to go back, buddy. Still game?"

Too painful. I can't live with that anymore. "Yep. I'm ready."

The second the needle touched his skin pure fire was injected into his veins. It took all of his strength not to scream at the top of his lungs. The pain wasn't in his skin, though, but it was also in his heart, his mind, like Lorelei was being defaced and thrown out, gone forever, but further than she had ever been. She was gone, and he had made sure of that. His lips formed her name and he struggled to breathe, keeping the tears at bay, until the tattoo artist announced that he was done. Aldo sagged in his chair, sweating and trembling, and the artist returned soon with more ointment and a bandage. After the ordeal he had just been through the prickling pain in his arm seemed like nothing, and he was out the door in minutes after paying the tattoo artist and out on the street again.

Lorelei was gone, and his heart would be black forever. He didn't need a tattoo to prove that.

---

They were best friends, which was the strangest thing. Kaylie was positively covered in tattoos, from the members of her favorite boy bands to random people she saw on the street. She could fall in love with anyone and it showed. Tattoos speckled her arms, legs, and throat like scales, and she was proud of them, not trying to cover them up like other people did. Kaylie was a lover, plain and simple.

Gemma was everything Kaylie wasn't – shy when she was boisterous, timid when she was bold, and secluded when she was open. The only tattoo she had was the one on her ankle, her personal tattoo, and one that she knew no one else would ever wear.

"What do you think of this outfit?" Kaylie asked, then popped up from behind the clothing rack to observe a cute boy walking past them. "Oh, he's not too bad..." She began, then smiled wryly.

"You did not..." Gemma laughed as Kaylie pointed at her left arm, where a new tattoo had appeared, a circle with curling flames. "You are ridiculous. How could you fall in love with someone that fast?"

Kaylie just shrugged. "Sometimes I think my heart is too big. It just kind of goes out to people, you know? Everyone is so amazing, I just can't help loving them."

Gemma knew the truth in Kaylie's words, but still laughed every time her friend counted up her tattoos at a sleepover and the amount was greater and greater. Kaylie could love like no one else she knew, or would ever know... And she would never love like that in a million years.

---

"I'm gonna marry a prince when I grow up." Reagan announced to her kindergarten class, and the girls all sighed. "I'm gonna be a princess!"

"You can have pretty hair like Elsa! And ice powers!"

"Princesses are dumb. I'm not going to marry anyone." One boy said, crossing his arms.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"My mommy says we're all going to fall in love when we grow up." Amelia said quietly. "You just have to wait for the right person."

"I'm going to have so many marks that I'm going to be all covered up!" Cecelia cheered, and the boys stuck out their tongues.

"Girls are stupid. I don't want marks, I just want cars."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, I think cars are stupid. So there." Reagan said, and the boys stuck out their tongues again.

"My grandma said that we're all going to find love!" Britt smiled, and the girls sighed again. "We'll all find our Prince Charmings, even if he isn't a real prince."

"I'm going to marry a real prince!" Reagan said.

"From where? There aren't any real princes anymore." Amelia asked. Reagan looked flustered, then shook her head.

"That's okay, I'll find one!"

"Princes are stupid!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

---

It was a custom in cemeteries to inscribe the tattoo designs of the deceased on their tombs. Ennis wandered through the tombstones, hands in his pockets, aimlessly walking about the grounds. Generations of lost love and hope and scandal formed a beautiful silence here, and he could imagine the excitement these marks caused, these brands of affection. He had only one tattoo, the mark of his own. Others would tease him about it, but he knew it was for the best. Love was something for the rest of the world, and he just liked to observe.

Thick mist hung over the dull gray-green grass, dampening the very ends of his pants legs, and he ignored the condensation as he knelt before a small gravestone, decorated with a name and a small emblem, a rose petal and a leaf. The only person he could ever come close to loving, the love of a brother.

"Happy birthday, little sis." Ennis whispered, and laid a single rose on top of the gravestone. Sometimes a tattoo couldn't define love, and love lasted forever, ink or not.