Persephone Tattoo Drawing Novels & Stories

The curtains swayed gently in the morning breeze. He examined the stone ledge carefully before crouching. “There.” We joined him. Carved into the pale stone was a single symbol. A serpent. Its body coiled around itself, its eyes formed from two tiny black gemstones pressed into the carving. Serena. She had wanted us to find it. Not because she’d failed. Because she wanted us to know how close she’d come. Ares’ voice was low and dangerous. “She was here.” “No,” Kael corrected quietly.

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.

By evening, she was back at the tattoo shop before she could talk herself out of it. The old artist raised an eyebrow when Aria walked in. “Third one already? Most girls wait longer.” “I need it,” Aria said, voice low. She chose a bold design this time — a intricate black and crimson serpent that would coil around her right thigh and disappear between her legs, its head ending teasingly close to her clit. The pain during the session was intense, but Aria welcomed it. Every prick of the needle made her wetter. When it was finished, the serpent looked alive, scales shimmering with dangerous beauty.

But did I really want that? I was kind of lost right now. This felt like a lot, and I was not even sure what was going on between us. We still had a lot to chat about. I raised my hands, running them through my hair. As I did, I felt the cramping in my lower body ease up. My eyes wandered over Percival's tattoos. The Southern expert warrior symbol on his bicep caught my attention, along with the intricate design that flowed over half of his pec, across his shoulder, and down his arm, stopping halfway on his forearm. Earlier, I noticed a large symbol on his upper back. He looked so rugged now.

Her reason had already evaporated. That was when Belle’s half-lidded gaze caught something on Bastian’s left hip. The skin there was still red and irritated, where the tattoo artist had just injected fresh black ink. A small silhouette was etched there. A sparrow with its wings spread. Belle’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened as she stared at the new tattoo, then lifted her gaze back to Bastian with stunned disbelief. “You… tattooed that?” she whispered. Her finger trembled as she pointed toward Bastian’s hip without daring to touch it. “On your body?”

"Danny suggested I draw a larger tattoo to go over my girl to help cover the scar. She will always be there, just we will be beside her." I felt tears in my eyes as I looked at his drawing. He had merged our two wolves, facing each other. My girl had her snout in Kota's chest. "Wesly," I whisper as my fingers trace the wolves. "Do you like it?" He asked me. "I know it's a little larger." "I love it!" I said, and then I showed him my gratitude.

When they’d drafted the terms in ink, never once mentioning what it really meant. This wasn’t about affection. It wasn’t even about heirs. It was about obedience. Breeding. Binding. Blood. She stared, frozen. The girl on screen sagged, losing consciousness. And then—the man turned toward the camera. For one moment, light caught his jaw just right. And Leora saw it. A tattoo. Small. Black. Etched into the skin just below his ear. A serpent devouring its own tail. Ouroboros. She’d seen it before.

Much like the man himself! Asides from the writing the tattoo looks like Something older, darker, heavier than anything I’ve ever seen. It snakes across his chest in a pattern that feels… almost alive. There’s a drawing of a serpent or is it a dragon?, its body curling and twisting in a perfect ouroboros on the left side of his torso, scales etched so finely I swear I could almost feel them under my fingertips. His heart beats beneath it, steady, slow, eternal, and it’s like the tattoo moves with him, shifting slightly as he exhales.

I look at him and I feel like I'm going crazy. With a trembling hand, I touch the tattoos on his left hand. I feel hypnotized by them. There are thorns surrounded by roses. The drawing climbs on the cloth to the shoulder and then descends slightly on the back and chest. It's a great drawing. I follow it lightly with my fingers feeling tingling as I walk my finger over the tattoo. Something is written between thorns and roses near the heart. A name. "My Forever Elle". I put my hand to my mouth and sigh. What the fuck is this? Is this a bad joke?

I am thankful he let me listen to that song. “Thank you… I almost forgot about those important details.” I bluntly said. He moves closer messing my hair making me grunt and gesture my hand, sliding it vertically to my neck. It’s a warning not to mess with my hair. “Oh… the tiger is now back.” I never mind what he was saying. I just focus on my drawing; maybe it will help me to find them. I picture out the tattoo I see on that bastard's left chest. It’s the only thing I can hold to find that tattoo. I draw a wolf eating the full moon looking up…maybe to praise the Moon Goddess or the opposite meaning? Devouring?