Azrael Tattoo Meaning Novels & Stories

My eyelids try to close with all their might, but I resist and slowly manage to open them, although everything is blurry, I see that I am on the ground, lying. When I close and reopen them, Azael's face appears in front of me, watching me with a frown, with his piercings and his black shirt through which his tattoos peek out and spread across his neck. But when I blink again, there is no sign of him. As if it was part of my imagination.

) The light lifted up, still shining, showing the presence of the Moon Goddess, and watching over us. I looked towards Azrael, and noticed strange markings, shining as they were showing off on his naked chest, making me look down onto my own just to find the same markings. Azrael noticed what I was looking at, making him explain to me, "Those are the markings of Moon Goddess chosen ones, warriors.” I looked at him for a moment when I heard the explanation, “But why do I have them?” He smirked before he answered, “She chose you.”

Xavier cursed. "Just like us, they shared the same symbol to their family. Their emblem is a certain wildflower, Achillea millefolium, or Yarrow. The tattoos are printed against the skin on their nape. It's too small to be even noticed," Zeus explained. Xavier's brows furrowed as he looked closely into the picture. "A month ago in L.A when I was on my honeymoon, I received this strange message," he admitted. "What did it say?"

And, soon, my eyes start to close, my lips parted as I let the tingles seep deep into my bones. “The butterfly means beauty and freedom, the smoky bird represents freedom and hope, the thorns stands for resilience, while the black rose…” Zeath suddenly pauses before blurting out, “death?” “I think it’s mystery,” I shrug, “at least that’s what the tats artist told me, and bloody hell you guys look way deeper into shii than necessary.” Zeath looks at me through the mirror, and my heart skips a beat. “It depends. Were you really a caged bird?” he asks while letting his hands slide to the front—to my collarbones, I mean.

Burnt eyes for those who turned their back on their father. Tongue out for those who blasphemed their maker. Twisted wings for those who chose the fall, who chose to stand beside Lucifer. And finally, for the traitors, those who followed not only the footsteps of Lucifer but those of his sister - a hole in his back where before there had been a pair of beautiful wings. Azrael, like Lucifer and like the corpse of his sister, had no wings. This was the reason Callisto welcomed him, the reason to trust the fallen as much as he trusted Lucifer.