Heaven Sent Tattoo Novels & Stories

he gave me his most charming smile. "Why so?" "Because my mother has taught me to give love to others. She says that the world is already filled with hatred, one or the other person is burning in the fire of revenge. If we want to stand out from the crowd then we should love and protect everyone. She wants me to protect people and bring peace to their lives. That's why she named me Raphael - the name of one of the archangels whose work is to heal people's mind, spirit, and bodies so that they can enjoy the peace to its fullest" he smiled making my heart flutter. Today my heart is acting very weirdly.

Above the chain tattoo, I’d tattooed the very same words to honour the Queen in my life. “I was fourteen when I found out she had cancer. Having been well educated and advanced, I knew what that entailed. So I created a heaven for my mother, in my head, for when the time comes,” I turned to the picture again and her smile is as radiant as ever. She looks young in the picture. Dressed in white; her favourite colour. “Endless field of sunflowers, blooming under the sun, as it shines upon them. The same way she’d shined upon every life she touched,” there are murmurs of approval. “A small white house right at the end of the field,” I looked back to the crowd. “And endless stream of dance music

"I never wanna do something that you're uncomfortable with. That's why I'm not sure we should be doing all of this in the first place... Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying myself, but if I had to choose, I'd pick what you and I have over bomb sex in a heartbeat." When I was younger, I used to go to church every Sunday with my family. Even now, almost two decades later, I still had this memory of a grumpy old man telling me and other kids that people with tattoos couldn't go to heaven... Something about how every person's body was a temple, so it shouldn't be 'desecrated.' Although I firmly opposed that nonsensical idea, if it turned out to be right, then heaven would be sorely missing out. 'Ca

I got even more wet and excited just by thinking about the things he would do with me and the positions he'd put me in. Gasping at the discovery, I couldn't believe it. No way it couldn't be, not him, not Mariah's brother. The tattoo was proof it was the exact same one, an angel with burning wings falling, it was in the exact same placement as well on his chest. Fuck! it was him, Danny's the guy from the fucking club.

It looked perfect on her and thankfully it seemed to be the right choice. Angel’s eyes zeroed in on my newest tattoo that Uncle Dante designed. My brother had the same one. It was a bold choice, but we wanted her to know that she was going to be our choice whether or not there was a fated bond. It was a galaxy scene that morphed into an image of Angel’s beautiful face. ‘Angel – My Queen’ was written in calligraphy. “We had these done last week and are definitely our favorite tattoos,” I said, winking at her.

I trail my index finger over the words that were written in a language that I did not understand. “Your tattoo” I asked, and he looked down at his chest where my hand was trailing. “What does it say?” “Hemel” he answered, his voice breathy. “Hmm?” “It says Hemel, in Dutch. It means heaven” he responded, and I blushed furiously. Is that what my endearment means… heaven. “Are you going to stop?” his eyes were so intent that they were locked onto mine. “Ain't you in the middle of something?”

Xavier cursed. "Just like us, they shared the same symbol to their family. Their emblem is a certain wildflower, Achillea millefolium, or Yarrow. The tattoos are printed against the skin on their nape. It's too small to be even noticed," Zeus explained. Xavier's brows furrowed as he looked closely into the picture. "A month ago in L.A when I was on my honeymoon, I received this strange message," he admitted. "What did it say?"

Her eyes swept over him slowly. From his lean, muscular torso, down the ridges of his abdomen, and across his inked chest…and that was when she saw it. A tattoo. One she hadn't noticed until now. It started from beneath his left collarbone, curling like smoke across his pec, down his ribs, wrapping over his left shoulder and down the length of his arm. It wasn’t just art..it was storytelling ink, a tapestry of symbols and sharp lines. A Roman centurion stood at the heart of it, helmet tilted upward with a stare to the heavens. Surrounding him, a serpent curled and bled into feathers, and beneath it, Latin script ran along the bottom edge like scripture.

The tattoo, an indelible mark on his skin, became a symbol of our enduring connection, a visual anchor that soothed his mind in the midst of challenges. The evening breeze carried with it the echoes of our shared history, and in Logan's gaze, I found a reflection of a love that had weathered the tests of time and distance. The tattoo on his arm became not just an image but a testament to the resilience of our connection, a love story etched in ink and whispered confessions beneath the vast expanse of the night sky.

Then her eyes landed on a very small cursive writing on the left side of his chest. She squinted her eyes so she could see it clearly. Then her eyes widened. 'ARIEON' was written on it with little hearts and a small sun. Why would he tattoo my name to his body? Especially on his left chest?, she thought as she looked back at him. He looked so beautiful and innocent while he slept. She couldn't believe she was still in love with him. I'll still love you even if you'll never love me, a tear slipped down her cheek as she traced the tattoo with her fingers.