Moana Maui Tattoos Novels & Stories

I watched as she nervously withdrew a folded piece of paper from the pocket on her apron with shaking hands. “Moana had another… episode,” she said, shakily handing me the paper. I took it with a furrowed brow and unfolded it. My eyes widened as I saw the contents of the page. It was a drawing made with dark, heavy strokes that depicted a strange knife with a slightly curved blade and a wolf’s head on the handle. It looked oddly familiar to me for some strange reason, but the pressure of the lines and the way that the drawing seemed so chaotic indicated that it was not drawn while Moana was in a normal mental state. What especially gave that away was the fact that it was drawn over the pictu

he mused, "my heart beats fast too." Mona let out a breathy laugh. This man was dangerous. Her gaze dropped to his arms again, where his tattoos stretched up to his neck. She hesitated, then—without thinking—she reached out, fingertips grazing a tattoo that looked like an old, intricate map. Kane inhaled sharply. His entire body went rigid. Mona didn't notice. She was too busy tracing the lines, too busy being mesmerized by how warm his skin was. Until he moved. A sudden shift. A slow, deliberate stand.

Malachi stands with me still straddling him as I run my hand through his brown hair. I let him put me down and stare at his body, taking my attention to the tattoo in the middle of his stomach that shows his birth year. I lead him to the bed, and he lays back, propping himself up with his elbows to keep his gaze on me. I spread his legs so I can fit my body between them and kneel, while my finger traces the tattoo that says 1994 on his torso. He shivers at my touch and he's already hard as a rock. I trail soft kisses along that same tattoo, thanking the Moon Goddess for creating such an exceptional creature. I unbuckle his pants and start to pull them down slowly while his heated gaze

The smile was back on Moana's lips when she said, "I understand what you are trying to say, my mistress. But don't you think we should accept today, be happy for what it brings, and leave tomorrow to the hands of the Supreme? Neither our fear, nor our anxiety can change the inevitable, why should we rob ourselves of the joy of this moment?" Moana was right. We are all ruled by fate. The fact that she was an Omega and of no property means nothing if she was destined to marry an Alpha. I had to confess, Moana deserves this shot of happiness. She had dedicated all her forty years of existence to serving my mother and me, and nothing gladdens my heart than the thought of her having her own fam

As my eyes follow his neck I find our mark sitting there like the most beautiful tattoo with its simplicity. The triple moon sits on our neck, the outlines clean and crisp. Inside the full moon sits two paw darkened paw prints. Three stars connected by thin lines rest above the full moon and waning crescent. Tracing the image I enjoy watching Damon shiver while I whisper, "it's beautiful."

I looked at Moana. She didn't look down at the crag lord with hatred, nor did she flinch at the sight of eighty silver-tipped pikes gleaming in the pale winter light. She raised her right hand, her bare palm open to the sky, the raw cut across her skin completely healed into a thin, silver scar that pulsed with a faint, golden light. "Blow the caps," she commanded softly. Kaelen didn't hesitate. He struck a flint against the iron wedge, a single, brilliant spark catching the end of the hemp fuse. The fire raced down into the granite crack with a sharp, hissing snap, disappearing into the dark heart of the ice shelf.

Her makeup was done lightly because she wasn't fond of makeup. Liara looked at Moana, who was wearing a thin spaghetti strap dress of golden color, reaching just before her knee, matching with a beautiful gold chain with a heart-shaped pendant on her neck. Since she didn’t get her ear pierced, so she didn’t have to wear earrings. Her short hair, reaching her shoulder, was kept open, which Doctor Sara had cut an hour ago.

"Everything tasted so good, so fresh." "It is always so here," Mahana said. "Perhaps you'd like Manahau and Rotui to help you relax after your meal? Manahau is Tahitian for wise spirit and Rotui is the name of a high peak on Moorea island between Opunuhu and Cook Bays." "I'd like that," Krista said without hesitating, looking admiringly at the two sturdy, broad-chested men in their 30s, like Mahana dressed in just a long sarong.

I’m truly blessed. An hour later, the house was bustling with people. The event organisers and the catering company for Alaia’s birthday party setting everything up before family and friends arrive to celebrate our daughter's first birthday with us. The house was decorated to perfection, Hawaiian style. Everywhere I looked, I saw Moana and Maui and pictures of Laia we took of her growing up. Her birthday cake was four tiers, blue and white with shells, resembling the ocean with a chocolate mould of baby Moana sitting on the top.