Rose Collarbone Tattoo Novels & Stories

She was shy away and hid her in my chest. I placed her in a hot shower, pressing her back to me and kissed her neck. I was stunned when I opened my eyes. There was an old Italian tribal tattoo on her neck. What is it doing here? It was an arrow design with a crown holding double letter A. It was a symbol of the deity of death.

Is she. Naupo ako ng maayos at maingat na ibinaba ang kwelyo ng suot kong damit sa kaliwang balikat. Humarap ako sa bed lamp para maliwanagan ang ibaba lamang ng collarbone ko. Noon ko nakita ang dalawang maitim na marka. Hugis crescent moon iyon at magkatalikod. Isang nakaharap sa kaliwa at ang isa sa kanan.

And now this crow changed as soon as I wished it was white. "No way." I gasped as I marveled at the rose tattoo on my palm.

I said, my voice steady despite the unease crawling through me, “can you ask him to turn the body around?” Nikolai repeated the request in Russian, and the doctor complied, carefully turning the body. As the corpse shifted, something caught Nathaniel’s eye. “What’s that on his shoulder?” he asked, his tone sharp. We both stepped closer, inspecting the body. There, just above the shoulder blade, was a mark. It was faint, almost burned into the skin. But it was not just a burn - it was a symbol. A symbol I recognized immediately. The Crimson Rose crest.

He rolled up the first of his sleeves and stretched his hand out so it caught the light. His entire sleeve was a canvas of intricate tattoos, with a clock dominating the design, its inner gears showing and extending down to his wrists. Surrounding the clock was a blooming rose flower, its petals wilting. Delicate rose flowers bloomed around it, their petals hugging the clock, yet also wilting, as if succumbing to the passage of time. Dominating the top part of his hand was what I assumed was an angel, with a dark cloak over his body and a blade buried in his chest

The natural waist dropped into a sheer fabric with flowers stitched into it. The scars have relaxed and really created a pretty chain-link pattern. Although our wolves really worked on healing me, they are just now calming down and looking like regular scars. I have grown accustom to them to the point that I want to get them tattooed. As a symbol of my strength and determination to not let evil win. Soft music was playing as I paced around this tent. The only thing I knew about this event was the smell of lilacs. “Ready?” Colt lifted the side and stepped in.

It was a masterpiece of art, the most beautiful and precious thing she had ever seen. The collar itself was made of pure white gold, woven into an intricate and delicate pattern like vines from a fairy tale. At the front of the collar was a beautiful diamond pendant in the shape of a white rose, Lalisa’s symbol. And most amazingly… on the back of the collar, at the clasp, were the intertwined initials of all four of them—K, S, K, and L—beautifully and unified. It was not an instrument of bondage… but a royal insignia that signified her highest status.

SCARLETT Her hands moved steadily, wrapping the last bandage around my shoulder. Her touch was firm, precise, but I didn’t miss the way her breath caught when she brushed the ink etched into my skin. Her fingers froze. “Scarlett…” I stiffened. “What?” Her hand traced the mark just below my collarbone, where the edge of the bandage left it exposed. A black tattoo, shaped like a crescent blade tangled with thorned vines. I had almost forgotten it was there.

I say to him and he gasps quietly. "That was smooth. Does that mean I can get something dirty?" "No, I'm not letting your first tattoo be something like that." "Please can I get and arrow pointing to my ass?" "No way! Nathan would kill me!" I laugh and Cole pouts. "Okay, what about this one?" He says as he points to a vine of roses that would stretch across his lower back. "I like it, I think you should get that one." "Can I get yours and Nathan's initials on it?"

But whenever I looked at him too long, my mind compared him to the image of a man who had rejected whatever he felt for me. “Anyway,” Chris continued, slapping her fork down, “you should cover it with a tattoo if it bothers you so much.” I blinked. “A What?” Her eyes lit up. “You heard me. Like something totally badass and beautiful. Boom—scar gone, and you look hot.” “That’s actually… genius,” I said slowly, imagining it. "What would I get, though?" Tyler grinned. “Of course. A rose for Rosie. Classic. Beautiful.” He drew out the compliment in a way that made me avoid his gaze.