Black and grey realism tattoo of crystal pendants hanging from fanned beaded chains, across the chest below the sternum.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Crystal pendants on fanned chains across chest

Realism · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a fan of beaded chains that converge at the top of the sternum and drop to faceted crystal pendants at the lower edge. The pendants are shaded in black and grey with fine highlights, and the beads are rendered as small dots that fade toward the top. The design is centred on the torso and spreads evenly across the width of the chest.

Realism Chest Crystal Pendant Chain Bead Fan Gem

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

Mind the step, it's wet, the glass always sweats in March. No, don't touch the drops hanging there, they'll keep your fingerprints and give them back to you in a bad mood. Sit on the upturned bucket where your grandfather sat the day the chandelier came out of Ashcombe House in a crate stamped BREAKABLE in three languages.

Keep reading

The ballroom ceiling was coming down and the auction men wanted the whole thing in pieces. Mrs Hollis, the housekeeper, wrapped every crystal in newspaper from 1931 and counted them out loud as she went. Forty-two drops on nine chains. Your grandfather said they'd never hang straight again, and he was right about that, though not about much else.

He strung them across the glasshouse roof on wire, fanned out like a hand of cards dealt over the tomatoes. The chains were little black beads that went grey with the damp, and the drops went dark as the winter came on. The vicar said it was a morbid thing to hang over a vegetable bed. But when the sun dropped low through the panes, each faceted point threw a small rainbow onto the potting bench, and Mrs Hollis would come down the path just to stand in it.

Now you count them. Go on. Forty-two, and you'll get a different number every time, because they swing and the light lies. Mrs Hollis counted them every Sunday until the Sunday she didn't come up the path, and I count them for her. Look, there's the last one, nearest the door. It's throwing its rainbow onto your sleeve. Leave it there a minute. It's not doing any harm.