Ares Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

I had a folder with all the entries for the tattoo ideas in it. "My favorites are these three." I mind-linked. She took out the top three and looked at them. The first one was a crescent moon with a swirling cloud thing behind it. The description was that we were called shadow pack, so it would make sense that we had a shadow of the moon to represent us. She then looked at the next one. It was two hands that looked to be made from shadows reaching for one another. Then she came to the last one.

Before he and Cyan talked again. "Why is it that everyone has a tattoo?" this is what I've been asking for a while now. "Everyone is required to have one." "Really? So even us? Are we going to get tattoos too?" "Uhuh? And at the bar we're going to, there's the tattoo artist who will put you in. I'll go with you." "What style tattoo do we need to have?" "It depends on you, darling." "You? What about you?" "Three ravens." He showed the part near his chest. Three birds were there and it was all a raven.

“OK, losers, why don’t I give you some options? Here we go: Option 1: We can start with tattoos for each of you. I am thinking the word ‘SLUT’ would look really good tattooed across your backs and foreheads. We could do pink for Paige and black for Luna Cassie. Option 2: We can give each other pedicures and manicures. Of course, for yours, we would have to remove each finger and toe from your body first, so it might take a little bit longer than normal.

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."

"What the fu-" "The tattoos." I push the mass of doctors away from her and turn my gaze to her ribcage. There are several small tattoos, but each one is easily distinguishable from the others. The first in the line is a wolf's head with a number eight between the eyes. Next is an arrow, a dagger, two crossed arrows, a gun, and a target symbol.

His hands automatically came to rest on my thighs, caressing them up and down. "I thought of a matching tattoo we could get," I told him and his eyes lit up. He had suggested that we get matching tattoos and if I didn't want any, he wanted to get one of my name on his chest. I said that I was open to getting a tattoo but not names - I found it too cringy. But ever since, we had been trying to find a good tattoo idea that wasn't cringy or cliche. Something that was just for us.

“It goes away after a few weeks.” Her eyes lit up. “Can I get one too?” Rosa ruffled her hair. “Of course, princess.” We picked our designs—Rosa chose an intricate floral pattern for her wrist, while I opted for a delicate crescent moon on my ankle. Francesca, of course, insisted on butterflies on both hands. As the artist worked, Rosa smirked at me. “We should get real tattoos next time.” I scoffed. “I don’t think Alaric would be thrilled if I came home with a full sleeve.”

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

Her mesmerizing and radiant beauty and the graceful curve of her figure, a captivating silhouette, drew his gaze like a moth to a flame. Her eyes, akin to liquid emerald pools, shimmered in the light, and he found himself ensnared in her eyes – where he felt the intoxicating pull of drowning within their captivating depths. Yet, it was the way she ogled at him that stole his breath away. Her eyes fixated on his tattoos, drawn to the intricate details inked into his skin. On his left arm, the Celtic Knot work with Fangs unfolded a captivating narrative, where fangs seamlessly blended with ancient Celtic motifs. The Veins and Blood tattoo, like a river of life, traced mesmerizing paths within