Flash sheet of greyscale fairy wing tattoo designs, with varied vein patterns, feathered edges and butterfly-style wings, shown on a white background.

Fairy wing designs flash sheet

Black and grey · Flash

A sheet of many black and grey fairy wing designs arranged on a white background, with pairs of wings in several shapes and sizes. Some wings use bold outlines and vein-like cell patterns, while others use soft grey shading, feathered tips, or dark, sharp-edged strokes. The layout is a loose grid with no body placement shown.

Wing Vein Feather Flash sheet Design

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The boy had already gone over the side with the second net when Mairi found the thing tangled in the herring, no bigger than a wren, its wings stuck to the scales like wet paper. She picked it free with the tip of a gutting knife and laid it on the galley table, and it sat up and said her name in a voice like a kettle lid rattling.

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She was not a woman to be frightened by a bit of noise. She kept it in a jam jar with a square of muslin tied over the top and fed it crumbs of oatcake while the boat rolled east past Sumburgh. The wings were a marvel to her, grey and pale, cut into cells as fine as the ribbing of a lobster creel, with dark lines running through them that she could have traced with a pencil. On the third night it asked her to give them back. She said she would, when the wind turned.

The wind did not turn for nine weeks. Mairi kept the wings folded in a tin beneath the bread locker, where the damp could not reach them, and the fairy cooked for the crew. It salted the broth with a pinch of sea and made the bannocks rise without yeast, and the men grew fat and quiet and forgot to curse the weather. Only Mairi saw it lift its head towards the tin each morning, the way a dog listens for its name.

When the first northerly came, she opened the tin and held the wings up to the porthole. They were darker now, the veins gone black as burnt thread, the tips torn to sharp points like broken glass. The fairy looked at them for a long time. Then it took them, flexed them once, and went out through the hatch without a word, and in the morning there was a pale grey feather stuck to the bread knife, and nothing else.