Black tribal-style dragon design with a coiled, flowing body and spiky head, shown as a flash drawing on a white background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Tribal dragon design

Black and grey · Flash

A solid black dragon with a horned head, open jaws and a long, coiled serpentine body. The design uses bold silhouette shapes with white cut-out lines and flame-like tribal flourishes along the body and tail. It is shown in isolation on a plain white background with no skin visible.

Dragon Serpent Horn Tail

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The keeper's daughter had been carrying the paraffin up the stairs since the spring gales, and she had stopped complaining about the stairs by the time the sea began to rise the wrong way. Her father swore it was only the tide. He had kept the light on Scarrow Head for thirty-one years and had never once lied to a ship.

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The dragon came up out of the water on the third night of the fog, black as wet slate, its horns sweeping back like the fins of a gurnard. It did not hurry. It wound itself around the base of the rock in slow loops, each coil pale-edged where the foam ran off it, and it laid its head against the lantern room glass as if listening for the mechanism to tick.

Her father wanted to fire the horn. She would not let him. She had heard the old tale from the fishwives at Pell Cove: a dragon takes the light for its own eye, and the ships that steer by it are drawn onto its coils. So she climbed to the gallery with a tin of lamp oil and a sack of salt and sat with the creature until dawn, talking about nothing, the price of mackerel, the cracked step, her mother's blue kettle.

By morning the fog had lifted. The dragon had unwound itself into a long dark line on the swell, flames of foam trailing from its tail, and it was going south, away from the rocks. Nobody on Scarrow has seen it since. The light still burns, and on the glass of the lantern room, where the dragon's breath fogged it, there is a print of a horn that no one has ever wiped away.