Stoic Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

“I get what you're trying to say. But seeing a therapist-” “Is imperative. Raise your shirt.” I bulk at his request and stare at him as if he’s nuts, seeing my expression he rolls his eyes and phrases his words. “I meant your sleeve. Raise it.” Relaxing, I stare at him in suspicion. “Why?” “You know why?” Settling back with a sigh, I do as he asks and he stares at the triquetra symbol on my elbow for a long minute before looking away. Running a hand through his hair he leans forward and stares into my eyes when he says. “Do you know what that tattoo means?”

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

I wasn't ready to move on, not yet. I walk out of my room, hugging my clothes, and at the same time, Ares, my brother, comes out of the bathroom while steam from inside is smoking out. His short black hair is damped and loose, and his five o'clock shadow has been shaved as the towel wrapped around his waist reveals his torso with tattoos of the Filipino sun on his right chest and a Japanese design covering his whole right arm. He has another one on his back with the Greek words agape, pistis, and theos.

Most of the tattoos Dimitri and Lorenzo had were done by me when we were still living on the streets in Kansas after our father ordered his right-hand man to have us killed. Not wanting to entertain the silence that settled in, I asked. “What kind of tattoo do you want to get?” “Frankly, I'm not sure. But something nice to cover up an old scar. Do you have any recommendations?” I tried to cool off the anger simmering within me at the thought that Tymon had not only left mental and emotional scars behind for her, but she had to deal with physical ones too. The thought made me fucking mad. “I have a few that would be perfect for you when you're ready just let me know, and we'll have it here,”

I reach a hand out and trace my fingers along the line of one of his tattoos, knowing its just an excuse to touch his sculpted abs. “Sri Yantra I believe the geometric designs are called,” I comment, remembering studying the designs when I took art during my senior years of high school. “Yes,” he confirms, smiling at me like he's impressed. “They symbolise balance and meditation, two things I need in my hectic life” “I love them,” I tell him, resting my palm on his chest. I can feel his heart beat increase and for a moment I think he's going to lean down and kiss me but instead he surprises me by pulling away.

“Okay, thanks for terrifying me again, I mumble uncomfortably, trying to soothe the rising panic in me. I'm frighten he will soon tire of me and kill me just for bothering him. He looks back down, scribbling something on the paper. He clearly doesn't want to be bothered, but I'm not done talking to him. “Is there something you want?” He sighs, turning a paper over. “What does your tattoo mean?” I gesture at his bicep. Keo has a few tattoo's, although most don't appear to elude to anything. But this striking piece on his arm does, made up of various objects, text and patterns. “It’s something that once meant a lot to me," he responds carefully.

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.

Katherine pov For me, the sexiest spot a tattoo can be found is on a man’s rib and of course his fingers. I’ve heard a number of time how painful getting one on those spots can be, maybe that’s why I find it sexy. But is that why I can’t tear my eyes off this hot dude across this counter as well?

“The one I cut on the back?” I blinked at her. “You mean the little asswipe with the shitty tattoo who wanted to fuck up my pretty face with his brass knuckles? Yeah, I’m fairly positive I don’t care if he’s okay. But from the way he lit out of there like his tail was on fire, I’d say he’s just fine.” “It wasn’t a shitty tattoo,” she mumbled. “It was the eye of Horus. Some thought it was a symbol to ward off evil, but it’s actually supposed to symbolize healing.”

Finally, I had second brother and treated him like my own brother, he said with joy. Atty. Nicdao, Mr. Jones and I, are best friends since then. One time, Mr. Jones invited us in a tattoo shop and said, "As a sign of our strong friendships, let's put a tattoo on our pulse." We went to the tattoo shop and followed Mr. Jones, the tattoo maker asked what sign we want to be painted in our pulse, Atty. Nicdao suggested an infinity sign. So, we agreed. I told them to put it on my left hand because I'm left-handed, they wanted to make it uniform so, they asked the tattoo maker to make the tattoo on their left hand too, he said reminiscing those days, he smiled. "I missed them"