Cross With Butterfly Tattoo Novels & Stories

The way he said ladies made me cringe like we were something other than ladies. “Teresa Montés and Isabella Valéz.” Chino responded. “These wouldn’t be my brother’s daughters, would they? “They are.” “So, you escaped Zamora. “ “Yes,” I said. “You must be Isabella. The older one, right? “He looked me up and down. “Hmmm.” He walked over to Teresa, she looked at me nervously. She is only 19. Barely even legal in the United States. He touched her shoulder, she jumped. “It’s no reason to be afraid.” He rubbed her shoulders.

She immediately diverts her attention to the sunflowers dancing with the singing wind that blows to the west. "Yeah...My heart flatters...My stomach has thousands of flying butterflies. It tickles... Ughh, She's so beautiful. I can't believe she's here smiling in front of me..."In his mind, Marqus is babbling about his uncontrolled emotions. He smiles at his daydream. One moment, he inserts the butterfly hairpin ornament to Aria's hair. ..."W--" "It's a simple gift...for your w-wedding..."Marqus defends as he averts his attention to the surroundings. "D-do you l-like it?"

I approached their weak-ass leader and pulled him by the collar. "Remember my face and this tattoo you dummy, cause this day forward I will be your master. You and your useless gangmates will be my slave. You understand?" I said, looking hard at him. I grabbed his jaw and took a dagger that I always hid inside my boots. I carved a letter 'V' on his face. It stands for Violet. I tap the wound I made. "Aarrgghh!" He cried out in pain. Oh, my, my. Music to my ears.

"I do not seek revenge. I only seek restoration." "What is that supposed to mean?" The witch's eyebrow shot up. It was as if my reply surprised her. She paused for a moment and continued drawing her sigils. As I stared on, I noticed in the middle where I sat, was a sigil that looked more like a butterfly of some sort. What the hell was this woman doing, I wondered. I looked across the room to where Satake was tied up, a similar sigil was below him connected by a series of interlocking circles and one straight line that connected to my side.

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

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 twist a little to the side so I can see it clearly—the mark. It's truly red, like a bold, fearless tattoo shaped like a sun with sharp pointed rays stretching out in all directions. At the center, there is a large crescent moon cradling a five-pointed star, as if the crescent moon is protecting the star. Around the moon and star, there are small dots growing bigger with each next dot, and below the crescent moon, there is a bigger dot and even more dots that trail down in a straight line, leading into two sharp triangles pointing downwards. How did this mark end up on my body?

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.

This one she could see better with her own eyes, but less well with the face-level mirror. She swallowed hard before beginning to remove the third bandage. It was this, the newest addition, on the v of her thighs where her pubic hair had grown in rebellion of the Triquetra’s mockery, and that Rhett had waxed from her before beginning the tattoo, that was most mysterious for her, as lying flat as she had been, she had been unable to see anything at all as he had done it. He had continued the greenery theme with leaves and flowers, and a butterfly perched on a chrysalis.

My jerremy coiled out, wrapping around his butterfly tattoo again, when its purple wings nipped with magic. “Your ink,” I asked, “is that what’s controlling your nature?” “Do you like it? Such a clever tattoo with magic woven into it that hides my Curse, when appearing nothing more than the mark of the Alpha Empire, where the Purple King butterfly is our national emblem,” King spat out, flinching as I reached to touch the tattoo. I instantly pulled back. “I’m sorry, it’s just so…”