Chrysanthemum Drawing Tattoo Novels & Stories

The poor woman has dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks hollow and her overall complexion is alarmingly pale. Most noticeable is the intricate floral tattoo that snaked down her right arm to the wrist and the one inked onto her shoulder blade: a raven with red feathers and an arrow in its beak. It feels strange seeing the design on someone else. It’s cleaner, the linework neater than it used to be, but its purpose is still the same. She’s a part of Chet’s crew. Penelope runs into the room with the first aid kit. I rip into it and get to work, cleaning up the worst of her wounds before applying bandages.

He looked like he was carved out of a stone, so majestic and mythical. I was flabbergasted and speechless. He was also having a tattoo on his left arm. It was a creeper plant with roses and it was intertwined with thorns. There was also a black wolf howling near it and the moon was above the plant. The art was beautiful and the guy himself was a rare piece of art.

I can’t show him how happy I am about that. "It was interesting in the beginning, and yeah I got this one on Monday," Interesting. "Let's get tattoos together, not matching tattoos but I want to get one too," I traced the Lotus tattoo. Seeing how pretty it looked on his wrist, I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss it, it’s slowly becoming one of my favourite flowers because of him. "When do you want to get it?" He pulled me closer to him.

The marks crawl higher, winding up my arm in intricate patterns, like veins of living fire. When they reach my shoulder, the bloom dissolves into light and imprints itself into my skin. A tattoo of crimson petals blossoms across my shoulder blade. It is warm and alive with a pulse humming with the same rhythm as the heartbloom itself. Then, with a single deafening crack, the entire garden dissolves around me. The vines shatter. The thorns crumble. The maze collapses into dust. I stand alone on the clearing floor, panting, trembling, with an arm blazing with new power.

I walked to the shop and Joey followed. "Hello beautiful, may I help you?" "Can you draw me a rain drops?" I asked. "Rain drops?" Joey asked "Yeah." They guy who drew the tattoo nod. "Where so you want me to draw?" He asked. "My right shoulders" I wore a loose dress so I can easily slip my hand through it and let the guy draw it on my shoulder. "You want to get some?" I asked him and he nodded. "What do you want him to draw?" "A star with a number one in it."

I am thankful he let me listen to that song. “Thank you… I almost forgot about those important details.” I bluntly said. He moves closer messing my hair making me grunt and gesture my hand, sliding it vertically to my neck. It’s a warning not to mess with my hair. “Oh… the tiger is now back.” I never mind what he was saying. I just focus on my drawing; maybe it will help me to find them. I picture out the tattoo I see on that bastard's left chest. It’s the only thing I can hold to find that tattoo. I draw a wolf eating the full moon looking up…maybe to praise the Moon Goddess or the opposite meaning? Devouring?

I decided to make a drawing for each person. So far, I have finished one for Nova, Axel, Waylon and Jessica. Since I didn’t know Lilith that well, I just drew her a big ass flower. The dimensions were very delicate work. Since Tiger Lilies are my favorite, that is what I went with. Using come bright orange, it had spots of yellow and even red in it. The stem was dark green and the middle was a dark brown. Overall, I loved this picture.

Rounding the corner past another canvas, I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize it is just another painting, only to stop when I realize what I’m looking at. A single chrysanthemum suspended above a body of water. But unlike the one I saw at the gallery, this is different. There is no light airiness to it, nor the beauty of isolation that Kaori so effortlessly imparted in her painting. No, this painting feels brutish and violent. Every stroke of paint betrays unmuted anger. The thin petals of the chrysanthemum look as if they have been carved into the canvas by a jagged knife. And mixed among the white and yellow petals are splotches of red that remind me eerily of blood.

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”

Gianna gazed down at her wrist, looking at the small tattoo she got in her teenage years. It was a dandelion, some of the seeds scattered as if blown by the wind, forming a small musical note. Nothing about the drawing was unique, as surely, a lot of women already had the same tattoo as hers now. She had been thinking about erasing it many times over but decided not to. The black ink looked good in her milky skin, but she would rather it stayed hidden.