Small Bluebird Tattoo Novels & Stories

" Devon was still in disbelief, his eyes as wide as they could be. The fact that Bienley had gone and gotten himself a tattoo was mind-blowing enough, but it was no ordinary tattoo. There, on Bienley's back, was a masterpiece. Their names, "Bienley" and "Devon", were intricately etched, as if they were part of a beautiful, ethereal story. And woven around them was a delicate string of feathers, each one seemingly fluttering in a gentle breeze, as if carrying their love on its wings.

“I’m going to put something on now!” “Nice tattoo, Aldo!” Adia teases. Yeah I have a tattoo on my ribcage, no one really sees it unless they see me shirtless. Nova hasn’t said anything, but I doubt my tattoo is the first thing on their mind. It’s a flaming phoenix . Knowing I was the only survivor of the crash that killed my parents and maternal grandparents makes me feel a bit like a phoenix. I’ll need a purple butterfly over my heart, for Nova.

Because if I had come this far, if I could survive what I'd survived and still find a way to smile, then maybe, just maybe, I could learn to survive this too. A sharp pulse bloomed on my forehead. My hand shot up instinctively, pressing against the familiar spot of the tattoo, the one I thought was nothing more than a mysterious mark of fate. It wasn't pain exactly, but it was... throb. I blinked at my reflection, tilting my head slightly. Did I imagine it? That faint flicker of.... There. Again. My breath caught. A glow. Deep blue. Subtle at first, like moonlight slipping behind clouds, but then grew bolder, brighter, and undeniable. It shimmered just beneath the surface of my skin.

He trailed off, his eyes darkening slightly. The conversation paused as I glanced at Bryon. He is very easygoing, and with a perpetual smirk that made it hard to take him seriously sometimes. But now, my gaze caught on the large phoenix tattoo that stretched across the left side of his chest. Wow I blinked. I haven’t seen Bryon shirtless before, but he didn’t seem like the type to have a tattoo, let alone one so big. It was a large phoenix, and the drawing was detailed, its wings stretched as if mid-flight with orange flames licking at its tail feathers.

ACE. My Little Bird has remained silent during the drive home. Many times, I wanted to pull over and wrap my large arms around her body and whisper in her ear that everything would be okay and that I vow, our tomorrow is promised. But being out in the open, I couldn’t risk it for I don’t know how many, or worse, who it is that wants us dead. I know I have pissed off Theodore Drakos, The Serbs and for all I know, Olivia Black could be behind the hit.

“Your turn.” “I’m not getting a tattoo.” He shrugged. “Didn’t think you would.” “Oh, fuck you. Fine.” I settled for two small tattoos. One of a pair of cherries with a bite mark above my right breast. “Those yours?” He smirked. “Because I’d bite harder.” I rolled my eyes at him but the tattoo artist found it funny. I got another one. “𝒮𝒾𝓃” on my side, under my left breast.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

Instantly, I felt sad as if I was missing someone dear to me but I didn’t know who I was missing. I glance at the tattoo on my ankle and focused back my attention back on my laptop as I typed in the words, Blue Mockingbird. As soon as I started seeing images of a bird, it didn’t really make sense at first so I tried to skim through some more but it didn’t mean a thing to me. I tried retyping it into Blue Mockingbird tattoo and again it showed a few searches which said independence and loyalty.

The situation spelled the same conclusion, death. Li was still alive, he caught a glimpse of Tess's face and recalled the days he and his men triumphed in soiling her name and reputation. They boasted about seeing her and spread rumors that she was ugly and unsightly, explaining why she always had a mask on. Today, on his deathbed, he was reminded of the might of Avis, the immortal protector of the underworld and their sole ruler. The bluebird is a symbol of hope, love, positivity, and renewal. It symbolizes the essence of life and beauty.

I whisper more towards myself. The tattoo is of no ordinary design. The intricate details almost seem inhumanly made. Swirls of dusty-grey storm clouds surround a midnight-blue sword. They begin at the handles and spiral throughout the golden blade. Behind the sword lays black and blue tip wings. Each feather tip is like a tempestuous addiction. The closer I come, I want to touch it. Visions of the wings wrapping around me, never allowing me to escape, consume my thoughts. I look up at Raquel and shiver, not understanding how a tattoo could be so powerful.