Pencil sketch sheet of four cute chibi baby dragons with wings and curled tails, one with a butterfly, suitable as tattoo flash.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Chibi baby dragon sketch sheet

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

A pencil sketch sheet showing four small, cartoon-style baby dragons with large eyes, wings and curled tails, arranged in a loose grid. One dragon rests a butterfly near its face, and a tiny dragon sits at the right edge. The linework is light and sketchy with soft graphite shading on the bellies and wings, drawn on plain off-white paper.

Fine line Dragon Butterfly Sketch Wing Tail

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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

The rain had found the gap in the tarp again, and it ran in a thin silver line onto the pencil tins Pip had lined up along the trestle. Nobody had come to the stall since eleven. Across the aisle the man selling hot chestnuts had given up and gone home, and the market had shrunk to the few traders too stubborn or too skint to pack up.

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The dragon arrived at half past two, shaking water off its wings like a dog out of a pond. It was no bigger than a teacup, grey as the sky, with eyes so wide and wet it looked permanently astonished by the weather. Behind it, a butterfly the colour of a struck match was dithering over the rim of a tin of HB pencils. The dragon gave a snuffle, sneezed a puff of smoke that smelt of toast, and went after the butterfly with the single-minded tact of a toddler.

Pip tried to shoo them both out. The butterfly dodged her hand. The dragon sat down on the stack of unsold sketchbooks and refused to move, tail curled over its feet, wings folded like an umbrella somebody had forgotten to shut. When it rolled over to chase a drip, its belly was shaded soft as pencil smudge. She gave up and let it stay, and it spent the afternoon batting at the drips and leaving small grey paw prints on every cover.

At four a woman in a yellow mac asked whether Pip did commissions for babies, the sort of thing for a niece's bedroom wall. Pip opened the top sketchbook to show her some work and stopped. Four little dragons were already drawn on the page, one with a butterfly at its nose, one peeking from the corner, all in faint graphite that had not been there at lunchtime. The rain had stopped. On the pencil tin, one grey toe print was drying.