Persephone Tattoo Drawing Novels & Stories

like it knew I hadn’t touched it in months. Wrapped in velvet was the sketch of Selene. My dead mate. I pulled it out, my hands trembling more than I wanted to admit. Sera’s eyes locked on it like it might explode right in her face. She unwrapped the cloth, and when she saw it.. her breath caught. “This... this is me,” she whispered. Her fingers traced the drawing like she needed to feel it to believe it was really her, like touching it might make it make more sense. Then her breathing changed.

Heath put his hand on Rhett’s shoulder and squeezed it, before going to the door. Rhett walked over to the drawing table under the window. The morning was beginning to brighten, and the birds were flocking to the bird feeder that he kept outside. He liked to study their feathers and poses, trying to bring the details into his sketches for tattoo designs. He flipped open his sketch book and reviewed the designs he had in mind for Aislen, and the stencils he had prepared. He’d do the piercings first, he told himself, whilst she was most angry. When she’d calmed down, he’d start the tattoos.

Shuule gasped. Hand carved out of limestone, all four figures stood on the same pedestal. They were sweeping designs, not overly realistic, but ornate, much like the spousal marks left on the women by their mates. To the left, stalked a leopard, mouth open, spots dug into his coat. To the right, a tiger mirrored the same prowling, roaring stance, stripes carved into his body, as well as a slash over his eye. In between the large cat forms stood a woman, long hair lying loose behind her, both arms outstretched forward and then upwards, palms out to the sky. She wore a knee length dress with a sketched in cross stitch pattern. And behind all of this, was the largest statue, a serpent, carved

The tattoo had been left to heal, and remaining true to the promise I made him, I hadn’t looked at it; no matter how much I was itching to. Gulping, I closed my eyes as he gently peeled off the plaster. “This is my way of claiming you, Rose,” he said and kissed the exposed skin of my shoulder. He removed the bandage, and I slowly opened my eyes. On their own accord, my hands came up and covered my mouth as a gasp escaped my lips when I saw the beautiful drawing that had taken over the hideous scar. It was a motorcycle lost to time and consumed but a wildflower bush. The vines wrapped the metal in their embrace, and big red roses bloomed around it, claiming it. Right next to it lay a huge gra

When I don’t move for a good ten seconds, he shoved the thing in my face. Taking the paper, I turned it over, looking at the sketch. “It looks like Medusa,” Indra says. “Male version of Medusa,” the sketch was as Indra had said, the typical drawing of Medusa, but instead it was a male. His eyes are white, wide and panic stricken. His mouth is covered by a black duct tape, his head full of snakes. “What does this mean?” I asked Jordan. ‘This is Ludo’s tattoo,” he signed, informing us. ‘It’s on the inside of his thigh,’

The last mention described her cult as “dissolved by decree.” Seraphina looked up. No one watched her. Quills scratched. Dust swam in the light. A distant bell marked the hour. She turned to a list of symbols. Scales. A circle split through the center. The breath left her in a quiet rush. She pressed her palm flat on the page. The mark fit perfectly over the drawing, like ink meeting its mold. The paper cooled under her touch. Frost bloomed in a ring around her hand and faded before it stained the parchment. She lifted her fingers quickly and glanced down the table. The scribes did not notice.

Gianna gazed down at her wrist, looking at the small tattoo she got in her teenage years. It was a dandelion, some of the seeds scattered as if blown by the wind, forming a small musical note. Nothing about the drawing was unique, as surely, a lot of women already had the same tattoo as hers now. She had been thinking about erasing it many times over but decided not to. The black ink looked good in her milky skin, but she would rather it stayed hidden.

Charilaus had never heard of him and had only accepted him because he needed the child out of her room and much to his amazement, after thirty minutes, he was out with his daughter who stared at him with brown eyes filled with near joy. What he never knew was that Hades had met Persephone, a child that was lost and lonely and scared because she had a black tattoo of a three headed dog on her back and told her that she was his goddaughter and that he loved her and accepted her, and would protect her. As a child, she had asked if he could bring her Mother back.

He looked at me briefly then back at my hand that was holding onto his. The biggest and clearer of the tattoos was on the back of his palm. It was drawn with dark ink that stood out on his well tanned dark hands. At first it looked like a sun rising in the horizon and glazing over a field with details of how it shines around it in tiny well drawn marks, I soon realized it was the sea the sun was rising on and not heaps in a field. "Solem Orientem Ghe Mari" I called out the foreign words written right under the tattoo of the sun and the sea. It sounded Latin or was it Italian?

The emotions swelled within him, a mixture of tenderness and awe. Percy's gaze shifted to Prescelle, who had put the finishing touches on her drawing and now looked up at him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Her eyes, the same shade as her mother's, held an innocence and wonder that he found endearing. He offered her a genuine smile, a smile that spoke of shared secrets and unspoken promises.