Meaning Of The Swallow Bird Tattoo Novels & Stories

Bribery never tasted so good, my Goddess. “Do you want to know why I call you petit moineau or little swallow?” he suddenly asks me, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. When I shake my head, he simply smiles before answering. “Swallows are seen as a good luck omen and can symbolise revival or return from grief. I hope you can do that for me, Nova.” I frown at his answer, swallowing the bacon in my mouth. “How would I do that? I’m no one special,” I say.

Artemy would only ever give me pleasure. My hand moved to his back, and my fingers traced the bird tattoo that covered half of his back and around his shoulder blades. The bird looked like it was rising from fire, but the design was beautifully executed. Every time I looked at it, I was completely mesmerized. Artemy’s muscles flexed under my wandering and exploring touch. “What type of bird is this?” I asked curiously, my fingers tracing his spread wings. “It’s a Leon,” he muttered in reply. “I got it the day I took over as Boss.”

It was so abrupt but needed. “You okay?” His hand touched my arm. The one with the tattoo. I grabbed it, holding it up so I could feel it. I couldn’t see it anymore in the dark, but I knew it was there. I traced my fingers over it, feeling his skin. “Why do you have a tattoo that usually means peace?” He tensed. “What?” “The dove. The rays of sun. Your life is not about peace.” He didn’t answer right away. “Because there was a time in my life when I needed some. So I got it.”

Commanding. My lungs finally obeyed. Air rushed out of my mouth as I inhaled sharply. But I still could not open my eyes. Not yet. His presence was overwhelming. “What tattoo do you have here?” His voice came again. Soft. Curious. His thumb traced the spot just beneath my breast. My eyes flew open. Oh. He was talking about my tattoo. Three small birds. And a feather beneath them. A symbol of freedom I had gotten in college. His thumb continued to brush over the design slowly.

His. And he, my blade-wielding fury, my war-forged shadow, he was mine. The storm had passed, but the fire between us still glowed, banked low but unextinguished. I rolled onto my side, fingers tracing the tattoo along his ribs, the one I'd never seen before now. An old glyph. The sigil of the Hollow. "What does it mean?" I asked softly. He glanced down, then smiled faintly. "It means rebirth."

As men would say, there is nothing better than sex so early in the morning; I prefer having a long twenty-minute shower to drench every inch of myself soaking wet. As I reflect back to myself in the mirror, I, as I do every morning, I look at the tattoo that resembles a flock of birds; it is only but a mere squiggle of a bird. But I got this the day before leaving the city to go live my dream as a cowboy. It symbolized freedom to me. Now? It symbolizes failure; it symbolizes a flight that never took off. Well, I do, in all honesty, hope that this flight will soar, it is something to fail yourself, but a complete another to fail the man that you have looked up to your entire life.

Breanna chewed her lip to refrain herself from asking more questions, but her curiosity got the better of her. "What does the flying bird mean?." She asked in a whisper. He looked over his shoulder, at her but didn't answer right away. The bird was not small or very big either, it wasn't the first thing she noticed, but for some reason it stood out, the small black orb of the bird staring right at her. "Freedom." He said. She raised her finger to her lips, chewing on it. Wanting to touch his tattoo so bad. "From what?." She asked. "Boxing?."

He closed his eyes, his jaw slackening as I scrubbed his scalp. A comfortable silence soon settled between us. As I leaned forward to rinse the shampoo from his hair, my eyes caught the tattoo inked across his back and upper arm. The design was bold against his skin, curling like claws and wings. Black flames wrapped around a serpent swallowing its own tail. "What does it mean?" I asked, my fingers lightly brushing the ink. He didn't answer at first. "It's a symbol of resurrection. Power earned through suffering." I traced the outer edge. "You got it before or after everything?"

"The tattoo on the man who held them captive. The man who... who might have killed Nathan and... and Hero's parents.” "Okay, slow down," Kristina said, her tone gentle. "You said you knew the person? What are you talking about?" "The red dragon," I repeated, my hands shaking. "But it's not just a dragon. It's... it's symbolic. It has wings folded along the wolf's back, and a crown hovering above. The wolf... it's like it's becoming a dragon. Like it's going to be a ruler.” Kristina nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on mine. "Okay. That's... that's a very specific image. Where did you see this tattoo?"

Listening to Luke’s soft voice, Hope's eyes flutter open, and she gasps in amazement as she sees the tattoo on Luke's chest. She shifts from my lap to Luke’s, her eyes glued to the tattoo. “Daddy, it's so pretty!" She exclaims, caressing the butterfly with the crown. "Do you know what it means, Hope?" He asks her, stroking her hair. She shakes her head, glancing at him. "No, Daddy. What does it mean?" "This butterfly with the crown represents you and Mommy," Luke explains. "The butterfly is Mommy, and the crown is you, our little princess. And the words below say, 'My life,' because you and Mommy are my life."