Roman Numeral Tattoos Novels & Stories

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

The tattoo on his right arm became prominent as my feet took away the distance between us. That very same ink I saw at the party two weeks ago, and that very same ink I saw the night of my father’s murder. A naked woman with her back profile smiling over her shoulder. Her wavy hair propelled on one shoulder; the serpent's head rested on the other with its slithering tongue sticking out. It was an exquisite art, one that was certainly drawn for the bearer’s desire, a unique mark that will remain forever sketched on the bearer’s skin. “Viviana...” Roman’s voice vanished into the loop of my emotions and thoughts, consuming my reasoning. Vision tunneling, all I saw on the other side was red… dea

It smells of him and it calms me down immediately, but when I look up and find his shirtless body staring back at me, my jaw drops, and my blood heats. Calm is long forgotten. Rome is ripped and covered in tattoos. He’s always had them, I know. However, it’s more now, and his arms are covered in tattoos, not excessively, but enough. His front is untouched, all except for one that’s directly on his chest, specifically his heart. My heart seems to stop beating when I see the tattoo. It’s an infinity mark with a single vertical band running around the middle, and two dots on both ends of the band. It’s exactly like mine, only bigger. I stare at it with an open mouth.

A woman in the crowd screamed when they saw my tattoos. Celtic symbols were tattooed down my spine with intricate vines weaving in and out of the symbols, the vines weaved and circled the tree of life, which was tattooed on my right ribcage with the symbols for the maiden mother and crone in the roots. I had more tattoos covering my body, but the clothes in this time hid them very well. The men poked at the tattoos and scratched at any marking they could find on my body. “Are you done yet?” I hissed with a warning.

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.

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”

I left his lips and moved my lips to his throat while my hands felt his sculpted abs,like he was carved out of the finest marble. I grazed my finger on his tattoo he had just below his right nipple. "It's a symbol from Roman mythology which signifies bravery and readiness for sacrifice for a good cause."He explained me about the beautiful tattoo.There were many on his back and biceps,most of them inked to hide his scars from old fights.I dropped a wet kiss on it and then trailed downwarda whereas my hand moved to his awakening member.

Zach Romano. Leaning against the kitchen doorway like it belonged to him. His black hair was a mess, his blue eyes flat, unreadable, and his bare chest on full display, carved with muscle and shadow. On his ribs, a tattoo stretched over olive skin, an Italian cross with Latin scrawled underneath. Mors tua, vita mea. Your death, my life. I stared at the tattoo. Then, slowly, my eyes dropped to his torso. Abs, tight and low, vanishing into a pair of dark gray sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips.

I stuck to my gun, playing with him just a little. "What about this one?" I ran my finger across a set of Roman numerals on the left of his chest. It was the first bit of skin-to-skin contact I'd had, and sent an electric tingle through my entire body. His chest was just as hard as it looked, which made me all flustered just thinking about it. "Sixteen and eleven," he translated the numerals, bringing my focus back to the tattoo. "It stands for sixteenth of November: the day my little sister was meant to be born, and the day my mum miscarried her."

He said and grabbed my hand before I could touch a tattoo on his left side of chest. “What is the meaning of your tattoo, it’s beautiful.” I complimented a beautiful and unique design with something written in old language. His lips which were on my mid riff, stopped and those hazy eyes again locked with mine. Did I make a mistake? I promised not to dig into his personal life until he’s ready to share it with me. “It is an ancient Roman symbol of war and victory and the phrase defines a man who never sees the defeat.” He explained the meaning of his tattoo to me. I was surprised, he didn’t shut me out.