Poison Ivy Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

Zoey “What’s this about?” Bri asked, sitting back in her chair. She wore Wyatt’s shirt open with only a thin low-cut bralette beneath. The new tattoo she’d had Issac drill into her skin was simple and elegant as it rested on her sternum just below her breasts. Up the center of her chest, the water lily bloom birthed a crescent moon, a series of lines and dots indicating its glow in a circle around it, and above that a dainty fleur de lis. It paired with the twin Hyacinth Bean vines that now wrapped around her biceps and snaked down her arms and around each ring finger all in elegant black and grey. She and Issac had this thing about being in each other's company in companionable silence. The

Author's pov “I still think red would’ve made more of a statement,” Mason said, as he adjusted the straps on Ivy’s heels with practiced ease. Ivy glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her lips curving just slightly. “This dress doesn’t need to be red to make a statement.” The emerald green clung to her figure perfectly. It looked elegant, understated but still somehow deadly. She looked like money, power and revenge blended into one. Mason stood, brushing invisible lint from her shoulder. “Well, you’re going to break necks either way. Try not to cause a lawsuit.”

I also gripped her hands as firmly as I could so that she wouldn't run away. There was only one thought in my head– I must make friends. “Hello, my name is poison…I mean poison Ivy. No, I mean Ivy." I say to her while violently shaking her hands. I didn't need anyone to tell me I fucked up before I knew I fucked up. Why the hell would I call myself poison Ivy? What the hell is fucking wrong with me? And all this time, there's an uncontrollable creepy smile on my face like I'm a murderer in a horror movie with really bad acting.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

The tattoos incorporated yantras (designs based on sacred geometry), the Om symbol, miniature depictions of Hindu deities, and even mantras written in sanskrit. Savitri sat me on a stool, the air thick with sandalwood and something sharp, like lemon. She squeezed a muddy green paste from a cone, tracing swirling patterns on my arms—loops and flowers that looked like they belonged on a temple wall. She called it mehndi, said it was a kind of temporary tattoo made from crushed leaves, used in India for weddings and blessings, but this batch was special, mixed with herbs to keep the Vetala’s spirit out of me. It didn’t hurt like I’d feared—no needles, just a cool, wet tickle as the paste sank i

It was a testament to his unwavering dedication to all aspects of his physical fitness. One of the most striking features on Logan's left arm was the anchor tattoo, a symbol known to represent strength and stability, perhaps even serving as a connection to his time in the marine. Yet, what made this tattoo particularly intriguing was an unexpected addition. Just below the anchor, a smaller, seemingly incongruous tattoo came into view. This tattoo was a depiction of a little girl holding a toy, a charming but puzzling image etched onto his skin. It seemed to tell a story of its own, one that didn't readily align with the symbolism of the anchor.

with those words, Bryan touched Ivy's forearm and silently urged her to move. Ivy started moving on autopilot. She is not thinking straight. She is still shocked. Once Bryan helped Ivy inside their waiting vehicle, he turned to face her from the front seat. "Ivy, what was that about? What is it about his tattoo that made you look like you have seen something you were not expecting to see?" he inquired. Ivy didn't look at him. But his words registered in her mind. "He is the one Bryan. The fourth one" she replied simply.

are inked between the bird’s wings. “Blackbird,” I say, naming the Beatles song. “Yeah,” she sighs out. “It’s my favorite song. Means a lot to me. The colors all stand for my survivor status. Green for mental health. Purple for domestic abuse. Teal for sexual abuse.” Without knowing what I’m doing, I step forward and my fingers trace down one of the bird’s wings. I feel her take in a shuddering breath and she leans into my touch. I’m lost in the beauty of her tattoo.

But now I became hesitant even though I was excited in the forest. Seeing my hesitation, Evelyn sucked on my waist. "Step up; Alpha is waiting for you." Done, she pulled up her sleeve to reveal a tattoo. "My tattoo is here." This is the first time I've seen it at such a close distance. It's a very delicate tattoo. The symbol of the Black Moon, surrounded by a black moon, in the center is an image of a mighty black wolf sitting with its back to the moon. It's haughtily, as soon as I saw it, I loved it.

"Yevgeniy saw the kids born from those women as assets. The boys would go on to become his boeviki, and the girls ... Well, we had other uses." We? Did she just say we? My eyes widen as I hold my breath. She straightens up, advancing on me with purpose. I start to stand, but she's faster. She kneels in front of me, ripping open her jacket and shirt to expose the skin on her right shoulder. Pressed into it is a tattoo of a fox sitting on its haunches. Its black body is surrounded by thick, detailed chains. One look, and I can tell that the tattoo has been there for a long time.