Chrysanthemum Drawing Tattoo Novels & Stories

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.

Jessamine wanted to pull her hand away, but Thaddeus tightened his grip so much that she felt a jolt of pain. As they pushed and pulled, they heard the sound of something ripping. The sleeves of Jessamine's clothes were torn. Thaddeus was stunned to see the tattoo on her shoulder. It was a picture of a Red Spider Lily. If he looked closely, he could see the indents of a horrifying scar hidden in the petals. The red spider lily was a flower that symbolized death and rebirth, a fitting symbol of Jessamine's situation.

R H Y K E R My eyes are drawn to the sunset laying down in the sky as I smoke my electronic cigarette, I fell on the couch with my arm supporting my head while closing my eyes shut in order to breathe in peace and silence outside of the hospital garden, with colourful flowers and fountain. My mind went to the woman who captivated me, taking me to her body. Just the thought of her wearing a white blouse, hair up for work, her glasses on to see well since she's far-sighted and those full pink lips begging me to destroy, branding them with my mouth. Fuck. She's lovely and didn't change after all, except her hair and the butterfly tattoo on the other side of her neck. The butterfly tattoo suited

As I work my way down her bruised back my fingers touch over puckered flesh that has been covered by an intricate tattoo of various flowers, none that I could identify other than a rose, with butterflies and hummingbirds. The tattoo was almost the complete width of her upper lower back. It sat too high up to be considered a tramp stamp. She was not the type to have a tramp stamp that’s for sure. This was definitely a work of art. I slowly ran my fingers across the scars. The tattoo did an amazing job of hiding them. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was rubbing my hands all over her body I probably wouldn’t have even noticed them. Now that I have, I’m curious.

The tattoo artist gestured for her to lie down on the bed, his eyes already focused on the task ahead. "Let's get started," he said, his voice professional and detached. "What design did you have in mind for this... reminder?" Emily's voice was firm. "I want a tattoo of butterflies." The tattoo artist nodded, "Beautiful choice. But you said you wanted a tattoo to remind you of the wickedness of the world..." Emily's expression turned resolute. "I never said I was done talking. That's not all. I want you to add flaws to the tattoo. Blood and a spine tree."

His hair was wet, and he had nothing but boxers on. I had a vivid view of his tattoos. Adorning his back was a fierce-looking wolf, jaws agape and poised to seize its prey. On his chest, a heart ensnared in thorny vines bled profusely, the tendrils winding their way to a blossoming rose, seemingly coloured by the lifeblood drawn from the heart. Positioned on the left side of his chest was a strikingly fierce yet captivating eagle. Additional intricate designs adorned his arms, crafted with bold strokes of black ink. The well-defined muscles accentuated the synergy between his movements and the artistic lines. I found myself pondering about the talented artist behind these captivating creatio

My breath hitched as I caught sight of it in the mirror he pulled out of my bag—a faint yet intricate design swirling across my collar bone, glowing faintly silver before settling into a deep, ink-like black. The tattoo was mesmerizing, an elegant crescent moon at its core, its curves etched with delicate runes that seemed ancient and alive. Surrounding the crescent, fine lines branched out like veins, forming patterns resembling intertwining vines and stars, as though the night sky itself had been imprinted onto my skin. The vines wrapped gently outward, framing the crescent in an intricate lattice of beauty and mystery, their edges tapering off just shy of my collarbone. At the crescent’s

"There are two different kinds. Chrysanthemum and dahlia." "That's amazing work." Almost as if they were living flowers on her skin, there were no harsh black lines. Just pinks, golds, whites, greens, burgundies, and purples. They were so life-like I had to stop myself from leaning down and sniffing them. "What do they mean?" I turned her around so I could see it up close. My nose almost brushing her skin, I saw that the tattoo edged up her spine in a color so close to her skin color, I could have mistaken it for a shadow or something. "It's huge."

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

It's simple, yet, captivating. It features the Italian flag in colour, a black and white rose, rosary beads entwine with the stem and thorns, and the Esposito name is carved into the rose's shaded knuckle busters that rest beneath the rose with a single petal beside it. "I'm going to cut this from your body," I tap the scalpel against his tattoo, "And I'm going to keep it as a souvenir in my husband's family home." I sneer with a wicked smile playing on my lips.