Black and grey rose tattoo across a person's stomach, with a hand with red nails resting on the belly above denim jeans.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Black and grey rose on stomach

Other · Black and grey · Photo

A large rose sits across the lower stomach, with shaded petals, a diamond shape beside it and feather-like shading at the sides. The linework is bold and the shading is soft, built from grey tones with black accents. The bare midriff fills most of the frame, with a hand resting on the belly and dark jeans below the waistband.

Other Rose Diamond Feather Hand Denim

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Rain drummed on the tarpaulin over Mina's stall long before the market bell, and she had already sorted the roses by dawn. The red ones went at the front where people could see them. The grey-petalled ones, the ones the wholesaler swore were a mistake, she kept at the back under a folded sack, because nobody buys a rose that looks like it has been out in weather.

Keep reading

Dev from the jewellers across the aisle came over with his collar up and a cup of tea he did not want to share. He had a stone the size of a sugar lump he'd been trying to sell since August, a dark diamond cut so sharp it threw the bulb's light onto her wet hands. "Trade you," he said. "A bunch of those grey ones for this." She laughed and said roses don't need cutting to be worth something. He took his tea back, shrugged, and walked off with the stone still in his palm.

Later a boy pushed through the crowd carrying a shoebox with a hole punched in the lid. Inside were three feathers, grey and barred, pulled from the racing pigeons his grandad kept on the roof of the gasworks flats. He wanted a flower for a girl leaving on the Tuesday train. Mina wrapped a grey rose in brown paper and told him to give it to her before she got on, not after.

When the rain finally stopped, the diamond was still lying on her upturned crate, forgotten, and she pocketed it without deciding to. She trimmed the last grey rose and tucked it behind the tin where the coins went, so that whoever came back for their change would find something that had waited for them.