Drogon Tattoo Novels & Stories

Petr only nodded his head at the compliment and I pulled my shirt and jacket back on. I left Petr in the back just as Milo pulled his shirt on as well and paid the artist for his tattoo. He grinned and lifted his shirt and over his chest was one man, three fairies and four dragons with his parents name cradling them on either side. “It’s magnificent Milo.” He nodded his head and I could sense his sadness as he pulled his shirt down and picked up his jacket. “Your turn.” I lifted my shirt at his request and he looked at the artwork. I lowered my shirt as we walked out of the shop and reached the car.

He’s wearing a large black coat and when he raises his left hand to run it through his hair an eye-catching tattoo appears, it’s a dragon tattoo coiled around his wrist. It's head resting on the inside of his palm while its tail is wrapped around his wrist, and the entire snaky body is covered in flames of red. Tilting my head in wonder, I can’t help but stare at the tattoo until it disappears when he puts his hand back down. The colours of the tattoo are so vivid and bright that it almost looks like it was painted on his skin. Not seeing anything else that could tell me why I’m uneasy next to him, I turn away and settle further into my seat to concentrate on the music from my earbuds.

He also told me where he buried her. “Why are you telling me about this story?” I asked curious more than being afraid of him. “Because you are going to be my twenty-second Daisy.” “But you can’t kill me.” He looked surprised that I read between the lines of his story. “Yes, I can’t kill you. You see my therapist told me to get someone to talk to and I met your grandfather. He—” “What did you feel when you kill them?” “Why?” The man chuckled, “You know what, let me tell you about the story of my tattoo!” He removed his shirt revealing a tattoo of a huge dragon on his arm. “This is Vrtra. He’s the dragon that caused drought to many nations on old—’

"The tattoo on the man who held them captive. The man who... who might have killed Nathan and... and Hero's parents.” "Okay, slow down," Kristina said, her tone gentle. "You said you knew the person? What are you talking about?" "The red dragon," I repeated, my hands shaking. "But it's not just a dragon. It's... it's symbolic. It has wings folded along the wolf's back, and a crown hovering above. The wolf... it's like it's becoming a dragon. Like it's going to be a ruler.” Kristina nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on mine. "Okay. That's... that's a very specific image. Where did you see this tattoo?"

He chuckles as if amused. While trying to avoid his eyes, mine fall to his chest. My mouth falls agape. I remember getting a peek of a tattoo above his t-shirt the other day. Now, it’s unobstructed and free for all to see. It’s a massive Chinese dragon tattoo, spanning from his right bicep, over his shoulder, with the head drawn over his right pec. The dragon appears to be tangled in flower vines. I look back up at him to find him watching me.

My hair is down my back in waves, covering the exposed skin. When I look down the dress, I can see the black ink of the tattoo I had done in the month that Dalon and I hadn’t spoken. I had wanted a permanent reminder of him and our time together. A reminder that Italy wasn’t just some dream. The tattoo is simple, but the meaning behind it is powerful. The tattoo is a sun with a moon inside it to symbolize two opposite worlds coming together in the most unexpected but beautiful ways. Like an eclipse that is so rare, but so powerful and beautiful to witness.

“Which boy? Officer Blanc mumbled, smiling. Mr. Vlad jumped to his feet, clenched his fists so tightly that the rod made a sound as if cracking under the force of his hands and got closer to the officer getting even darker. “YOU KIDDING ME…!? THE CHILD IN THE PICTURE!” The impenetrable man came so close to the officer that the latter clearly saw a tattoo appearing and disappearing in Mr. Vlad's temple area. A tattoo ... with a green dragon. Maybe because of fear, the officer imagined the tattoo was mobile, so he took a step back, very frightened. He didn’t expect such a reaction. “Excuse us, Mr. Dragoesti. I didn't know you talked about the child in the picture. But that boy you're talking a

It was the ink. A dragon, winding up from his chest, the tail curling along his ribs, the head climbing over his collarbone and stretching up the length of his left arm, almost entirely sleeved in intricate black and gray tattoo work. Scales, smoke, fire—details that felt as much like armor as art. This wasn't some impulsive drunken mistake. This was deliberate, meaningful. A story etched upon his skin. His throat, too, was fully covered in inked. And then—

No one could tell that way that inside me was purely chaos. Vasilis turned Danae over, ripping the clothing over the spot where the seal sat. An ancient symbol in red and blue unfading ink. "Slit your palm and place it over the seal. Quick about it." Delphina ordered whilst Vasilis chanted. I let my beast slip and my claws dug into my palm, piercing my skin. I crouched and placed it over the seal before it could heal. I looked away from the leaking liquid that reminded me whose child I was. Who I truly was and how powerless i'd become.

She gasped. A massive dark blue tattoo between his shoulder blades caught her eye. A dragon. Its wings were spread wide, the clawed tips arching over his shoulder blades, and it seemed to move when he moved his muscles. It was not unlike the dragons stitched on the dressing gown she wore. He must have an obsession with dragons. It was a bit odd, but who was she to talk when it came to obsessions? She loved old stones, and not because they were old or because they were sparkly or valuable, but because they were something pure and amazing that the earth had created.