Harry Potter Matching Tattoos Novels & Stories

Oh my God. "I think it's okay. Harry Potter-ish." I hear her say, but I ignore her. On my forehead lay a scar, a prominent one, so ugly. "It's okay, better than The Dark Mark" She says, and I snap. "Enough with the Harry Potter bullshit!" "You don't like Harry Potter?" Her eyebrows rises. Reluctantly turning away from the mirror, I say "I don't know who the fuck Harry Potter is. Who the hell are you, and what do you want?"

My attention shifted to a young boy standing by the roadside, his eyes brimming with anticipation. "This fits your personality, I admit," I said with a playful smirk, acknowledging the child's enthusiasm. His smile widened, revealing a genuine joy in response to my observation. Seizing the moment, I decided to share a curious detail. "The mark on my neck burns when you look at me," I confessed to the boy, curious to see how he would react. To my surprise, he extended his palm, revealing a serpent tattoo curling around his wrist. I reached for his wrist, as my fingers gently traced the serpent tattoo on the child's wrist, a magical transformation unfolded. Before my eyes, the young boy seamle

Like every thing else on him, his ears were big, bigger than mine, but they were just the right size for his head. He had a string of tattoos littering the across his left fore arm, the rest of it, disappearing into arm hole of the shirt he was wearing that looked like it was going to burst open from his muscle. They were mostly dark figures, in black ink, I narrow my eyes to make out a few skulls, but his shirt blocked me from seeing the rest. “What is the name?.” He asks and I frown up at his giant frame. I utter the name of a perfume I saw an ad for, one time I went to town. “My passion.” Hoping he’d just accept it and leave me like every other werewolf does. Instead, he walks even closer

If anger or fear took hold of her, the gemstone would darken, turning a deep, unsettling black. The feeling of the pendant against her skin was both grounding and empowering. The cool touch of the silver filigree and the smooth surface of the gemstone provided a tactile reminder of her connection to her heritage and the protection it offered. The runes and symbols etched into the silver felt cool against her skin, their presence reassuring her that she was protected and that her powers were being kept in check.

“Jesus, woman, you’re perfect for him. He’s out there right now, probably tattooing your name on his other ass cheek just to balance it out.” I choke on my whiskey, coughing like I’ve inhaled a cactus. “He did what to his ass?” “Long story,” Harper chimes in, sliding back into the conversation with a fresh drink and a grin that says she’s loving every second of my meltdown. “Short version, he’s branded. You’re it. End of discussion.” I rub my temples, feeling a headache blooming like a mushroom cloud. “Great. So I’m stuck with a psycho who thinks kidnapping is foreplay and tattoos are love letters. What’s next? He gonna build a shrine in my honor? Sacrifice a goat?”

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 murmured while examining the included photographs. One image depicted Aurora during her teenage years, alongside a teenage boy, evidently deeply in love. Presumably, this was her mate. Another photograph captured the boy shirtless, his shorts riding low enough to reveal a discreet D&D tattoo just below his abdomen, where his V-shaped muscle disappeared beneath his shorts. The tattoo would have gone unnoticed if the photographer hadn't intentionally focused on it. A third photograph showed the two of them reclining together, the camera zeroing in on their matching initials tattooed on their skin.

She took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. With a delicate touch, Hazel began assisting Francisco in removing his shirt. As the fabric slid off, her gaze inadvertently lingered on his well-defined physique. Despite her efforts to maintain professionalism, the sight was undeniably captivating. Glancing away, Hazel reached for a black shirt and a maroon tie, choosing the combination for him. Hazel delicately touched Francisco's broad shoulders; she couldn't help but notice the multitude of old scratches on his back and chest. However, what caught her attention the most was a striking tattoo—a snake—etched across his entire back. The intricate design added an element of allure and

The parchment was now there, falling to the ground off the monster's ear when he began shrinking. The girl took the parchment in her hand and read: “Antimagic ...” Then the Parchment disappeared, turned to dust. The girl felt at once on her neck, under her ear, a tattoo taking shape. Unlike the other tattoos, it was a hollow circle. That’s all the girl could see being drawn on her body.. Unaware, she headed for Fahria in a hurry, looking at that wolf. She was much quieter now, because that Lycanthrope had been killed forever.

"She does the designs, I handle the tattooing." The blonde huffs and approaches me. She shows me a photo of a guy I immediately recognize. It's Harry Styles. "I want to get a tattoo of my boyfriend's picture." She looks me in the eyes, daring me to contradict what she just said. Which, of course, I do. I smile defiantly. "Are you aware that he's a singer?" "Of course I know that my boyfriend is a singer. Are you jealous or something?" Oh God, besides her breasts, she also has neurons made of silicone.