Greek Mythology Geometric Tattoo Novels & Stories

Running down his spine was a tattoo of a dagger, flanked by two cobras coiled around its blade, each poised to strike the other. The crossguard was shaped into a Trinacria—its eyes hollow and haunting, its hair a wild tangle of serpents. On its three bent legs were the words etched in a stark, gothic script: Famiglia, Orgoglioso, Patria. The ink stretched over the planes of his back like a warning—Family, Pride and Homeland. He stood up, and my suspicions were confirmed—completely naked, without a hint of shame. He slept next to me completely naked—fucking naked. But before I could even start to argue or throw some biting comment his way, something else pulled my focus—his ass.

Master made sure I was well versed in literature, poetry, music, arts and dance. Master kept me indoors until I was thirteen years old, before he began hosting concerts and big dinner parties where he charged royals and demanded gold coins and expensive jewellery for them to catch a glimpse of me. I was not allowed to converse with any person and to be honest, I do not believe that I can because when I enter a place, everyone hushes and mumbles my name of Aphrodite. That is the name my master has given me, Aphrodite. One of my teacher's told me about Aphrodite and how she was the Greek Goddess of love and beauty. My teacher went on to tell me, I got the name Aphrodite because my beauty surpa

“I understand your doubts. But this isn’t just about a mark. It’s about what it represents: unity, strength, and a future where we’re not defined by old wounds or past conflicts. I’ve been blessed not just by the Moon Goddess, but by Athena and by Aphrodite as well. And I want to use their gifts to help us, all of us, find a path forward.” I point to my back when I mention Athena and show them the sword marking, then I lower the waist on my gym tights to just under my hipbones, just enough to glimpse the markings from Aphrodite. But I felt I needed to do more than just show them. Maybe I needed to make them feel.

I raised my head, frowning as I stared at the crown, trying to figure out whether my eyes were playing tricks on me. “Do you like it?” Damiano asked. My eyes widened. “Damiano!” I gasped and looked at him in shock. “Yes, my love?” He smiled softly. I looked back down and traced my fingers across the base of the imperial crown tattoo as I stared in shock at the new ink on his chest. Αλθαία. It was my name in Greek. “You’re insane.” I said breathlessly. Damiano looked satisfied, pulling me into a kiss that left me even more breathless. “I told you, only for you, baby.”

This might mean nothing to others, but those of lycanthrope blood know that the Omega symbol for the Greek God Ares implies war. “What the fuck?! Who is declaring war on the Five?” I exclaim with a hammering heart and wide eyes as I turn to Kai, but he simply crosses his arms and points to the ceiling. When I look up, I see what he means, and instead of wondering how the fuck they came into this club and killed a Volkov pup to do all this, I feel my entire body light up with fury. A skull adorned with a crown of daggers and eight spears encircling it, and next to it was a maiden skull with a crown of roses holding a sword in a skeletal hand.

There lay two words tattooed in greek. Προστατευόμενη and από which means 'Protected by' and then there were two names tattoed under it, one on each wrist. Cliff. And Joel. And then my eyes met something red, something red pouring over the new tattoo, and dripping down my arms. I turned them over, plams out flat, face down, and realized that punching tree's? Wasn't my best idea. My skin was broken in 20 different places, and gushing blood. Yum, I thought sarcastically.

I was beginning to think that running from home was a mistake in the first place, but then, I never would have met Rebekah and Cliff and Joel. My wrists burned again at the thought and I had to look down. A gasp left my lips and rushed out in a puff of cool breeze. It must be a chilly night. Being me wouldn't know that but focus. I looked down at my wrists again. There were two words tattooed in greek. Προστατευόμενη and από which meant 'Protected by' and then there were two names tattoed under it, one on each wrist. Cliff. And Joel.

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 set it on the table between us and opened it. Inside were sketches. Dozens of them. A design for a full back piece that was breathtaking in its complexity. A phoenix rising from flames, wings spread wide across the shoulder blades. But woven through the feathers were geometric patterns, sacred geometry, mandalas. And beneath the phoenix, falling figures that morphed into abstract shapes before reforming at the base of the spine. Death and rebirth. Destruction and creation. Chaos and order. It was stunning. Possibly the most beautiful tattoo design I'd ever seen.

The smooth velvety warm caramel skin clung to seductive massive curves of muscle, trailing up to broad full shoulders Outlined in what appeared to be intricate golden tattoo ink in hieroglyphic patterns some I recognized like the Ankh the Egyptian representation of life on his rose gold armored gauntlets, others were completely unrecognizable to me with their intricate curves. My eyes slowly traced his tattoos the odd tribal patterns leading from his wrist up to his forearm up his biceps disappearing beneath his armor. Each new glimpse of his body sending my pulse through the roof. I could barely breathe with the way he was holding me so close to his chest. As I looked up at the face of my r