Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Crowned heart, Triforce and Dragon Ball on a forearm
Neo-trad · Forearm · Colour · Photo
A vertical arrangement of three motifs on the forearm: a red heart with a gold crown and central gem at the top, a gold winged Triforce in the middle, and an orange sphere with four red stars at the bottom. Yellow and gold scrolls frame the motifs and link them together. Solid black outlines define the shapes, with bold flat colour and light shading across the design.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Hold the lamp steady, Tam, or the tar will catch and we'll both be smoking like the galley chimney. Right. Where was I? Ah, the Mercy of Hollin, eleven weeks out of Bristol with nothing but salt pork and a bad-tempered mate, and the storm coming down off the Azores like a dropped anvil.
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The captain's wife had sewn a heart into his coat before he sailed, red silk with a gold crown stitched on top, and he swore it was the only thing that kept him from the rail. She'd been a queen once, he said, in a play in Bristol, and she had made him promise to bring back the heart's keeper. Nobody knew what that meant. Least of all the captain.
On the fourth night the lightning showed us three shapes in the rigging: a golden triangle that burned without fire, two wings folded either side of it, and beneath them a ball of orange light with four red stars set in its belly. Old Sayer swore they were saints. I swore they were the ship's own sins come home to roost. The captain only touched his coat and said, 'Not yet.'
Here is the thing about a storm. It doesn't care what you carry. The sea took the mainsail and our second mate, and the stars in that ball went out one by one, until only the top one glowed. We were three days drifting before the wind turned. When the sun came up, the wings were gone from the rigging and the captain's coat hung dry on its peg, heart and crown and all, warm to the touch. Sayer still says it was saints. I've stopped arguing.
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