Two Hummingbird Tattoo Meaning Novels & Stories

said Tucker, his black plaits hanging down his rippling back. “I will,” offered the tattooed Hayden. Removing his jacket, the delicate inking down his arms was on full display. His forearms were a menagerie of every animal and bird, all gently entwined in delicate ivy and branches. “Oh thank you so much!” Naomi simpered before putting her fists up and bouncing so her tits jiggled. /Unfair advantage right there/ Rush complained remembering how easily we were fooled as teens. Repeatedly.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

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?."

Its body was coiled around the dove, not constricting, but rather embracing it. The stake that pierced the dove's heart was adorned with a delicate filigree, resembling the threads of a DNA helix. As you gazed closer, the tattoo revealed more nuances. The dove's wings seemed to morph into tendrils, while the cobra's scales appeared to shift into molecular structures.

It sounded like he truly believed what he was saying. He did look different; more defined muscles, was a bit taller, had a completely different accent, and most of all, he didn’t have the small tattoo of the bird that we both got on my birthday last year. We both got those tattoos right on the right side of our necks. At first, when Samuel had asked me why we were getting tattoos of birds, I told him it was because they were cute. But Samuel came up with a much deeper meaning. He said that the birds represented our love for each other; that they were lovebirds.

“You know he’s going to cry, right?” I smile quietly. “Maybe.” Little by little, the hummingbird comes to life beneath the artist’s brush. Its wings stretched elegantly backward as though frozen mid-flight. Tiny details form carefully with each stroke. Greens. Blues. Hints of iridescent purple. It isn’t huge, only about three and a half inches tall, but it is stunning. I find myself completely mesmerized watching it come together. “That’s incredible,” Sav whispers. I nod slowly, unable to take my eyes off it. The hummingbird has become something deeply symbolic between Greg and me over the last few months. Freedom. Movement. Loyalty despite distance. It fits us perfectly.

“Enjoy your stay. But hey, word of advice? Steer clear of the Red Zone if you’re really just here for the sauna. Unless you want more than a quiet night, of course. In that case, the Red Zone’s your best bet.” “The Red Zone?” “It’s on the far end. Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.” With a wink, he turns and walks off, flip-flops slapping against the tile. That’s when I catch the enormous tattoo spanning his entire back—a bird, wings spread wide, talons out. A hawk.

As though a timely intervention by the winds, the flares of the skirt danced to its own tune in the wind. “Love to me is also everything a hummingbird symbolizes. It is the enjoyment of life and the lightness of being, lifting negativity and expressing love more fully.” Irene inwardly thanked Dana for adding the note about hummingbirds as she received a standing ovation from the audience. “Love to me is also a risk, like wearing white….” She paused and added in a lighter tone “You never know when it gets smeared” She laughed along with the audience and finished in a solemn tone as Lara walked off “I am thankful to my husband and brothers, who taught me that it’s a risk worth taking."

He said and she swallowed hard. “What are these?” The tattoos were of several animals, some of them lunging, some snarling, some roaring and some resting. The tattoos were entrancing, something about them compelling. She felt like those eyes were alive, following her every movement. She touched a hand to the tattoo that was directly over his heart and he sucked in a breath at the touch of her fingers, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “I know this one.” She whispered. It was the same eagle that had saved her in Bare bones realm.