Itachi Tattoo Crow Novels & Stories

“Grandmother despises schemers. When she finds out you’re the reason I lost my inheritance, she will make you pay. I promise you that.” “I’m the reason?” I scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from you.” “At least I have true Moretti blood in my veins!” Dante suddenly thrashed, trying to get up. “You’re nothing! You’re just a cheap—” His words were cut short. In his violent struggle, he tore the sleeve of his hospital gown. I saw it then—a black tattoo on his forearm. The design was distinctive: a double-headed eagle with Cyrillic letters beneath it. My heart skipped a beat. That was a Bratva tattoo. The mark of the Russian mob.

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she noticed the tattoo of a horse on his neck which was mostly concealed by his shirt. "This is one of Christopher Stallion's men," she said. "What?" "Look at him," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "That is impossible," the governor incredulously. "My men are all trusted men." "But he has the tattoo of a horse on his neck. It would interest you to know that Stallion has a similar tattoo, and so does every member of his gang. Do you doubt it? I have a tattoo of a scorpion on my back because I am a Black Scorpion. All the members of the gangs have tattoos on their bodies."

The last time I saw him without clothes, he had only the Bratva tattoo; the twin stars of a Vor v Zakone on his left chest; stars that marked him as untouchable in the Bratva. But now his entire upper body was covered in ink; Dragons and demons. I know those tattoos. No, it was not the Chinese Triads; this… this was Irezumi, a traditional tattoo style belonging to the Yakuza; the fucking Japanese Mafia. Was that where he had been these past four years? I was stunned. Why would a Bratva Don wear the mark of another syndicate? “There is not enough hot water for two, but we can share,” Nikolai’s voice shook me out of my thoughts.

Slowly, he turns away from me, tugs at his shirt, and lifts it up. There! Pristine and raw, is a new tattoo on his skin. A black crown on his shoulder. My mouth goes dry and suddenly I can hear Ulyana as if she's standing here with me: Tattoos. Every man of the Bratva has some. Some signify their past deeds, terrible or great things they've done, and their ranks. It doesn't take a genius to know what the crown means. I'd suspected Yevgeniy planned to kill me, but now I know for sure.

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to

The ones lined around and up his arms were normal. But the ones the crawled up to his back, shoulders and neck didn’t look ordinary. On the side of his back, crossing to his shoulder and a certain path that crawled up to his neck looked like a chained bird that got loose. That loose chain was the crawling one on his neck. “What does this tattoo mean?” I asked, hoping he’d answer me. Martil sighed, puffing smoke into the room. “It’s an Omertà.” “What’s that?” The name itself sounded strange.

How did you know that name? "You can say I have been doing my homework well." "We only hear of the name and not everyone says it and apart from Igatus, I doubt if anyone has seen the Moonkings' face. We know he is the leader and Igatus is his right-hand man." "What does the tattoo mean then?" "It is a mark that signifies that it once belonged to the faction of the " The Crowned Moon". When the symbol is deciphered it is a Moon and a crown. The kind only befitting a king. The tattoo is a symbol for Moon and the king, which gives MoonKing"

My focus glued to this stranger and my heart beating through my chest with the sensation I’m being chased, stalked, or hunted. He's exactly as the visions showed. Perfect as a man, with good looks, and sculpted physique, a presence that screams dominant alpha male. He’s muscular and tall, covered in black Aztec tattoos which are there for all to see as he once again turns towards us. The large blazing sun sign of the hunter on his left peck, right where I hoped it wouldn’t be and it seals his fate. The symbol has not changed in hundreds of years, and even though this is a tattoo and not burned, carved cruelly on the skin of the hunter, it’s still exactly as it’s always been.

“Happy Birthday Ahsoka. Now we are complete and everyone will know you are mine. Come let’s shower.” I follow him to the bathroom and Nico turns on the shower, letting it warm up. I look in the mirror at my mark. It’s a crescent moon with a wolf’s head howling in the middle of it. There are also angel wings coming out on either side of the moon. It looks like a tattoo the size of my palm. Nico comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “All mine,” he whispers, kissing the back of my shoulder.

I took a close look at it before my eyes slightly widened. A snake wrapped around a sword and a skull tattoo. The sword was into the skull and the snake was coming out from the skull's eyes, mouth and other holes on it's face. It wasn't big but any person who is or was, in my case, involved in the underworld knew what this tattoo mean The Italian Mafia. Ace was part of the Italian mafia. A C E I stared at Ivy who had her eyes fixed on the tattoo on my wrist which represented the Italian mafia. Her eyes were wide opened and her lips were slightly parted. She hadn't realized that I was staring at her, she was too concentrated on the tattoo.