Black silhouette of a winged fairy sitting within a crescent moon, with sparkles drifting from her outstretched hand, shown as a flash design with no body placement.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fairy silhouette in a crescent moon

Black and grey · Flash

A solid black silhouette of a fairy with butterfly-style wings sits inside a large crescent moon, one hand extended and releasing a trail of small stars. Swirling linework curls out from the top and bottom of the moon, framing the composition on a white background. The design uses only black ink with no shading or grey tones.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody in Harlow Pit believed in fairies, though Nan swore one lived in the crescent of the old engine house roof, where the slates had gone and the moon came through like a sickle. The night the cage stuck at the four-hundred-foot level, I climbed up there with a jam jar and a box of matches, because she'd said a fairy could be bargained with if you had something bright to give.

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I had nothing bright except the tin of brass buttons from Grandad's miner's coat. I tipped them out on the slates. A small woman stepped out of the moon's curve, black as coal dust against the sky, with wings like a torn butterfly's, and she looked at the buttons without any interest at all. Then she lifted one hand and blew across her palm, and stars came off it in a long glittering trail that fell past the headgear toward the shaft mouth.

Below, the cage bell rang twice, which meant men were coming up. Dad stepped out onto the pit top with his lamp still lit and soot in every line of his face, searching the yard for me, and he saw the stars on the wind before he saw me.

Nan never asked what I'd traded. She just put the kettle on and said the bargain had been kept. The buttons were gone from the slates by morning, and Dad kept the matchbox on the mantel after that, and never once lit it.

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