Holy Trinity Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

Wait a damn minute. Could Trinity like Rodri Darnell? My eyes strayed to him again. He looked absolutely majestic. And the color grey, looked so mouthwatering against his tan skin. The hoodie covered a part of his chest, but I could see the traces of dark ink on his skin. A tattoo. He had a fucking tattoo that made him even more sinful to look at. A low trim of a neat beard lined his chiseled jaw, and his dark brown hair under the hoodie looked messy and damp at the tips, like he had been sweating—

Tristian points out reasonably and As I think about it, I can’t help but see that he just might be right. There are indeed thousands of people with the same tattoo, same spot. The last thing I want to do is to jail an innocent person. I know how that feels like. Thinking more about that, eve marigold has that same tattoo. Same spot as that’s quite a popular spot for that type of tattoo. I’m not saying it’s marigold in the frame as she’s obviously a female but what if the person is one of her holigan friends and the tattoo is somewhat a symbol of their friendship bond?

Perhaps the recent events were showing her a rather depressing answer. She just smiled down at the eagle tattoo that she had on her right wrist. It had the savanna skyline wrapped around like the band, while the eagle head was in the center. The lion tattoo on Gryphon’s arm did survive long enough for it to show properly, and she hoped for it to stay as long as it would. Ten years more… and perhaps, along with their wedding vows, they could retouch their wedding tattoos.

I really did not want to feel weak ever again. My parents totally thought I was crazy when I decided to get a few tattoos. I had a big one slung over my shoulder that reached down to my bicep—our crew's tribal symbol. I also had another large one on my back and a warrior symbol on my inner bicep, courtesy of Gaspar. But my favorite was a cool tattoo guys get when they find their match. It sat just below my waistband, right in the middle of my stomach. A symbol that looked like this: ∞.

A woman in the crowd screamed when they saw my tattoos. Celtic symbols were tattooed down my spine with intricate vines weaving in and out of the symbols, the vines weaved and circled the tree of life, which was tattooed on my right ribcage with the symbols for the maiden mother and crone in the roots. I had more tattoos covering my body, but the clothes in this time hid them very well. The men poked at the tattoos and scratched at any marking they could find on my body. “Are you done yet?” I hissed with a warning.

Where are you? Voices echo on the wind, multiple people trying to call on his name. He’s running for his life. His tattoos – four stars on each of his arm – a symbol for every life he has ever lived, and will be living. A star for every deity that he’s ever mocked. A star for every partner he will ever love.

“Unless I altered the fate the gods planned for me. Maybe that’s why my tattoo is twisted because, from that point, the path they imagined for me ceased to exist.” “Only the gods can answer that.”Tristan hesitated, still holding my hands. Or a seer.” “Know one?” I asked, then immediately regretted it when he dropped my hands. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. What happened to my mother was not your fault.” And certainly not anything he wished to talk about. I searched my brain for a way to shift the conversation that wouldn’t feel weird, ultimately blurting out, “What does your tattoo depict?”

“Trinity weaving isn’t about strength—it’s about flow. Let the threads catch what comes, then turn it back.” Ellie darted between the wolves, her silver fire weaving tiny trinity symbols above their heads. “Like this! Fire friend says wrap the threads tight, but not too tight.” A group of pups cheered as their shadow threads, once clumsy and faint, now coiled neatly around a practice dummy.

Eventually my brother also got dragged into the conversation and blamed for the tattoo just as he had been blamed for the first one. Speaking of my beautiful little brother I glanced down the other end of the bar where Mark was talking to Mitch and a couple of his biker buddies and stared at his right arm where the other half of my money had gone. Like mine Mark's tattoo covered his arm from shoulder to elbow and was an evil version of the great god Pan. This wasn't the silly looking Greek Pan, this was the original Celtic version complete with horns, hooves, red glaring eyes and a long horn that called to all the lost souls. Between the size, the colors and of course Mark's extremely well m

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.