Crossed Nails Tattoo Meaning Novels & Stories

It was on the verge of fading. His whole body was stained by deadly marks, also designed with sharp-looking tattoos that held hidden meanings. Not only that but on his back, there was another deep wound that left her scared. She dared not to touch it, feeling it as fresh and alive as if it was the latest wound given by his enemy. However, Nathaniel assured her it wouldn't hurt him at all if she gripped him too right. Rather, he chuckled at her, and couldn't help but kiss her again.

"Doing what? I wasn't doing anything here. Not like you wouldn't say yes, it doesn't take much for a woman to fall in love with me." "Yeah and it doesn't take much for you to seduce and take them to bed or isn't that what you're implying? Then leave them broken and shattered. It's literally written all over your face and that tattoo of yours. What does it mean by the way? It's Angel's wings right? Folded around a rosebud then a pack of three wolves? And there's some sort of Chinese written all over it, what does it even mean?" "So now you're spying on me whenever I'm naked?"

Zach’s sketching something on a napkin with a half-dead pen, his sleeves pushed up just enough for the edge of one tattoo to peek through. It’s an angular design, geometric and sharp. I’ve stared at it more than once, wondering what it means. All of his ink looks deliberate. Scar-like. Every line says: I earned this. There’s another on his left hand, just beneath the knuckle, three dots. I don’t know what they stand for, and I haven’t asked. But sometimes, when he’s staring out the window, he rubs at it like he can’t forget what it cost him.

Her photo no longer came up on the evening news. “When we had asked her about the tattoos she explained each one. The one between her breasts represented all the parts of herself she was able to salvage, the place where her heart longed to be. Among the waterlilies, beneath the moon, at home with us where she belonged. The flowered vines wrapping down her arms and hands to twine around her second finger on each hand represented the tethers she had accidentally created between us, the bond she couldn’t break, the thing that nearly destroyed her. The magnolia symbolized a loss up to now she carried very much alone, now we all carried that weight together as we looked at tomorrow; towards a pin

Instinct took over and with the guidance of Scarlett, the baby latched onto her mother’s breast. “Definitely my child.” Knuckles murmured as he gently brushed his hand over her soft red curls. Protect what’s mine The tattoos over his knuckles held a new meaning as he looked at them holding his daughter. Neither saw Siobhan as she snapped a picture of them. Nessie leaning against Knuckles’ bare chest with Abigail at her breast. Finger tattoos proclaiming PROTECT WHAT’S MINE cupped the tiny head. The other hand declaring DEFEND WHAT’S MINE were interlaced with smaller fingers with runes on them holding the small body.

I left his lips and moved my lips to his throat while my hands felt his sculpted abs,like he was carved out of the finest marble. I grazed my finger on his tattoo he had just below his right nipple. "It's a symbol from Roman mythology which signifies bravery and readiness for sacrifice for a good cause."He explained me about the beautiful tattoo.There were many on his back and biceps,most of them inked to hide his scars from old fights.I dropped a wet kiss on it and then trailed downwarda whereas my hand moved to his awakening member.

The eyes of the wolf glow with white ink, glowing faintly under the overhead light. Scars…deep, long and old–slash through parts of it, like he earned both the ink and the pain layered underneath. I am staring too much and I force myself to look away. And immediately regret it. Because my eyes land on Nico. He's lifting weight, tattoos on full display, biceps bulging with each curl. His sweatpants ride low on his hips, teasing the dangerous V-line. His tattoo is sprawled across the left side of his chest, creeping down his ribs and disappearing into his pants. And another, a burning rose, thorns curling into flames that occupied his left arm and hand is rendered in dark, smoky ink.

Otherwise, given her personality, she would never have considered getting a tattoo. Rowan had several tattoos himself. She could see the initial ‘P’ for their surname on his right index finger. He often wore decorative rings, so it wasn't immediately obvious. Additionally, he had recently gotten a cross tattoo on the inside of his left bicep, which he said was a symbol of redemption. He had gotten it at the same time Nora had hers. The ‘f’ was Nora's idea, a way to remind herself to forget and let go. However, as she sat there staring at the slender letter, she began to ask herself if she had truly forgotten.

“Saturday?” The doctor made a hmm noise, apparently not impressed with this man helping me. No surprise. Doctors were no fun. “How many fingers amI holding up?” Ronan translated. I stared at his other hand resting on his knee, at the tattoos on his fingers in between the first and second knuckles. One was a cross, another a raven. The third, a king of hearts playing card. Ink and déjà vu. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t stop myself from touching him, from drawing an index finger down the tattooed raven. The whispered words were pushed from my depths by an irresistible force.

Slowly, he turns away from me, tugs at his shirt, and lifts it up. There! Pristine and raw, is a new tattoo on his skin. A black crown on his shoulder. My mouth goes dry and suddenly I can hear Layla as if she’s standing here with me: Tattoos. Every man of the Bratva has some. Some signify their past deeds, terrible or great things they’ve done, and their ranks. It doesn’t take a genius to know what the crown means. I'd suspected Yannick planned to kill me, but now I know for sure.