Persephone Tattoo Drawing Novels & Stories

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.

I leaned forward, focusing on the tattoo before me. It was a serpent biting its own tail. More like swallowing it. But it wasn't in its usual circular figure. It was in an 8-figure. It was not that huge, but it was noticeable. It stretched from his nape to his lower back. My fingers moved with caution to feel the tattoo. The ink was black. It made the serpent appear more realistic and frightening. Typical Hael. By the time I lifted my gaze, Elion was already sitting in front of me just like Hael.

The sensation of her around me, combined with the sting of the tattoo, sends an overwhelming rush of pleasure through me. With each careful stroke of the needle, she traces a new design onto my chest. The symbol, unique and powerful, reflects the merging of our lives. Her concentration is intense, but I can see the love in her eyes, feel it in the way her body moves against mine. This mark isn’t just for the world to see; it’s a testament to us—our bond, our passion, our forever.

"Master, I’m just a bit tired. I want to take a break for a while." Bernard narrowed his eyes and suddenly lifted the hem of my shirt, revealing a daisy tattoo on my waist. Upon closer inspection, he realized the tattoo was meant to cover a long scar that resembled a centipede. "Girl, what on earth happened to you?!"

I had a folder with all the entries for the tattoo ideas in it. "My favorites are these three." I mind-linked. She took out the top three and looked at them. The first one was a crescent moon with a swirling cloud thing behind it. The description was that we were called shadow pack, so it would make sense that we had a shadow of the moon to represent us. She then looked at the next one. It was two hands that looked to be made from shadows reaching for one another. Then she came to the last one.

She was very touched. She gave him a quick peck on the lips when no one was looking, took her pen, and drew on his hands. He let her do whatever she wanted as he watched her with a barely visible soft smile on his face. When she finished drawing, he looked at his hand to see a drawing similar to the tattoo she had on her shoulders. “Why did you draw your tattoo?” William asked her curiously. “Because her tattoos are the perfect representation of her, or at least what she wants to be,” Tessa replied on Rosaline’s behalf.

Marcus ordered. I did. Hand trembling, but I signed. The pen felt heavier than the collar around my neck. “Good girl.” Vesper took the papers and smiled. “Now the tattoos.” They laid me on the table. The artist they brought in was one of their own — silent, efficient, needles buzzing. First came the big one right over the brand: bold black letters spelling “COLLECTIVE CUM QUEEN” arched above my pussy. Then smaller marks on my inner thighs — “Free Use” on the left, “Breed Hole” on the right. A crown dripping cum right between my tits.

“This is completely new territory for me.” My eyes betray me. They drag over his bare chest, his abs, the way his pants sit low on his hips. And I feel my stomach tighten at the sight of his tattoos — ink and meaning and temptation. A yin-yang with hearts instead of dots and the number thirteen at its center, about the size of a big coin, is on his left side underneath his arm. Curling above it is the Peter Pan lettering — Sniff pixie dust and soar — in a cursive font. And on his bicep — the Reaper logo stamped on like a warning label.

She was upset that I didn't recognize her, and seemed deeply upset when I pushed her arms away and stared at her. Despite the simple black dress, the neckline was deep enough for the tattoo of his capital sin to be quite significant and easy to decipher. In the center of the small trunk was the image of a fat badger with his mouth wide open, where a small man fell into it. Around the animal, crosses, tombstones and flames spiralled over the woman's pale skin. The rest of the drawing was not noticeable enough for me to lose more than a few seconds staring, so I looked away when she also looked.

“She wasn't in her room when we got back. Her dress was on the floor alongside this note.” Without much of a thought, I shove Perseus aside and race over to Anesha's room. The hallway is suspiciously empty save for one server cleaning up the rug right in front of her open door. He stops working abruptly to give me a stiff nod and starts walking in the opposite direction, quickly. Too quickly. There's a red tattoo at the back of his neck. Squinting I see that it's a lotus flower. It feels familiar but my mind doesn't make any connections.