Chrysanthemum Drawing Tattoo Novels & Stories

special. "Just you?" I don't know if that's an answer or a question. He just grinned and went straight to the monitor. "What design do you want?" I thought about it, and I decided to have the Gladiolus flower tattooed on me since it typically symbolizes honor and remembrance. But it has many other meanings too such as: Strength of character. Faithfulness, sincerity, and integrity. It's just so perfect for me. "Gladiolus. You know that?" My answer.

Chills ran down my spine because that smell was familiar, and my eyes dropped on the small table by my bed. My breath hitched seeing a single chrysanthemum. This time, the color was purple. Its petals gleamed from the dawn light, the stem looked like it was freshly cut, and on it, there was a note tied. I immediately clenched my hands after locking the door. How on earth was he able to get into my quarters and always bestow me with my single flower with a different hidden color meaning? Chrysanthemum was supposed to elevate my feelings because it was my favorite flower, but this stalker always made me feel like I must start to hate it.

The third attendant dipped the brush into the molten ashes and looked at us both as if they were trying to figure something out. Whatever it was, when she was done, she began to draw on the right side of Ayame's right wrist. The brand was no bigger than two inches tall, one inch wide. She drew a simple, elegant crescent moon, a three-tongued flame between its points and a dainty little diamond in the middle of the flames. It was so small and yet held so much power, so much weight.

Her eyes were blue colored and she had full kissable lips she painted over with some clear lip gloss. She had a large watercolor tattoo of a Phoenix on her left side in red orange and many other colors. On her thigh was a watercolor tattoo of a wolf howling to the moon. What bothered her the most was the three most personal tattoos she had. One was on her right forearm it was a watercolor tattoo of a Celtic Love knot the read “Love is real”, Rhys has the same one that read “Real is Love”. Another one was the was of their fingerprints that came together and formed the shape of an heart, Rhys also had the same thing. And the last was the obvious one, It was and eternal love tattoo right above

Sick sick sick Morana, so sick. ‘Oh but we’re not sick. Just look at him.’ My wolf purred along my dirty thought. Running my gaze through the tattoos drew on him, that beautified his manly appearance, my mouth watered at the sight. At his upper trunk around his neck was a crossed feathery tattoo, with the word “Pure” written and carved underneath. Visible from the sides of his shoulder was the bottom of a rose flower that was drawn up his broad shoulder. His arms, the both of them were covered in different tattoos, ones my eyes could caught. There was a splitted dagger among the drawings, a broken heart, a crescent moon, marks I have no idea what it represents.

All of them had a silver hue, yet it was clear that they were not crafted from actual silver. One had a small ruby, another had elegant cursive inscriptions, and another had delicate floral etchings. I couldn't help but admire the intricate artwork that adorned his arm, from his fingers all the way up to his wrist. "What is the significance of this?" I gently ran my fingers over one of the intricate tattoos on his arm. The elegant script, adorned with delicate vines, roses, and lotus flowers, intrigued me, even though I couldn't decipher the Greek letters.

He undid the zipper of my dress and before I knew it, I was left in just my underwear and my heels. Not wanting to be the only one undressed, I pulled off his shirt and threw it somewhere I couldn't be bothered about, then moved back to admire his chest. Tattoos of different kinds were etched on his skin, each one a different story than the last. There was one particular one that caught my eye at the left side of his chest. It was " Carpe Diem." Written in cursive with small roses woven around the words. It was so beautiful that I knew it wasn't just a tattoo.

’ And immediately, even though, to my surprise, I want him to kiss me, I pressed my palms even harder against his chest before he could kiss me, and whispered, “F-Felix….I have; I need to ask you something.” He paused, but did not look alarmed. My eyes glanced from his deeply piercing silvery grey eyes, before moving back to the tattoos around his chest. Some of them are names, embedded in what looks like my favorite flowers. Right on the one drawn to his left breast, I can see the words, Hazel eyes, drawn intricately into a dahlia bud. My fingers traced the artwork slowly, like it’s a map, before it stops directly on his beating heart. I can feel the organ beat powerfully against my fingers

Alexander turned sharply, irritation flaring—then stopped. In the man’s palm lay a small black box, no larger than a matchbox. Its surface was matte, faintly warm, as though it had just been held. Etched into its lid was an intricate crimson carving. A red spider lily. The flower seemed almost alive in the low light—its petals curved like flames, blooming darkly, violently, like blood against black stone. Alexander’s breath stilled. He recognised it instantly. The same pattern. The same unmistakable design as the tattoo on her back.

After I shower, I opt for a wife beater and a pair of loose-fitting shorts. My right forearm is still scabbed over from my latest tattoo. Every time I look at it, I am proud that I now have my pack displayed on my body. It had taken me a while to draw out the design just the way I wanted it to look. It depicts a full moon coming up over a hazy horizon. A wolf's head with bright red eyes is baring its teeth as it emerges forth from the moons' surface.