Sirius Black Tattoo Novels & Stories

They played for a bit she sighed dreamily as the Carson, Matthew, and Chuck took off their shirts, a few minutes later Leon, John, William and Blake followed suit, and she couldn't help but smile as she noticed that Carson and Blake had similar eagle’s tattoos on their left shoulders. But she also noticed the black jaguar that ran mid-back on Blake and the lion on Carson.

He couldn't since he had never experienced similar feelings before. "Astar!" Sirius turned his attention toward the dark-skinned man who seemed to call him. The boy couldn't determine his age since he was the oldest person he had ever met. The man was only wearing a breechcloth as a cloth, though, the boy found his appearance still quite intriguing. Despite his age, he was muscular, his torso covered with countless tattoos representing a mighty dragon flying towards the skies. Some spiral symbols were also decorating his head, starting from the top of his skull--since he was bald, they were noticeable--ending up below his eyes.

Carol teased her. “Titus Black is the only one who can request for a custom-made one. Other people don’t get that honor.” Myka still did her best to deny there being anything romantic between her and Sirius. “Besides, how could I possibly like Sirius? If I really started dating Sirius, things would become really awkward for me if you broke up with Titus Black.” “You don’t have to feel awkward about it. If you like him, go for it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

In black, grey and blue ink, beautiful, intricate patterns of floral and wing designs mar my skin, but at its centre, Zefiro name sits majestically in stunning calligraphy. The bastard tattooed his name into my skin.

He suddenly stopped and turned around to grab the sponge. I was stunned to see a black tattoo at his bare back. A tattooed name - Stela... What on earth is this?? When did he get such a tattoo???

He’s jittery. He tries to reach out for his cup of coffee, but then his big sleeve gets in the way and makes it spill all over the table. However, that’s not the worst thing that happened. His sleeve rolls back, revealing a very vivid tattoo—a tattoo that I have too. The phases of the moon. The insignia of Sangria Amori, the mark of Royals, known by everyone. Morgan glares at the tattoo. Then he slowly looks up at us. At me.

Tha- He-' His mind was almost refusing to register what was in front of him. Braum slowly raised his hand and pointed towards Christopher his hand shaking, and mouth agap. Everyone followed his finger and jaws dropped. On Christopher's chest was a large tattoo of a Wolfs head with blood dripping from it's fangs. It was The crest of The Black Guard.

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

But a voice stopped me. “You’re looking so chic, Iris. Something some people would not be able to combine in a million years to come.” The voice was smooth. It was so smooth that I felt it deep in my spine. Salvatore stood near the window, half-turned. Black linen. opened collar, button undone just to expose skin, and ink. A tattoo traced along his chest, disappearing beneath his shirt like a promise unfinished. The suggestion of it is more distracting than the full views ever are. His forearms were bare, veins pronounced, not from effort, but from presence.

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”