Black linework tattoo design of a winged fairy beside a crescent moon, with flowers, stars, swirling ribbons and jellyfish, shown as a flash drawing with no body placement.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fairy with moon, jellyfish and flowing swirls

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

A line drawing of a winged fairy seated within a crescent moon, holding a small bird and surrounded by flowers, stars and small flower-like sprigs. Below her, ribbons and swirling scrollwork trail down past clouds, a small sea creature and a pair of jellyfish with trailing tentacles. The linework is fine and even, in black on a white background, with no shading or colour, and the composition is tall and narrow with the figure at the top and the sea elements spiralling underneath.

Fine line Botanical Fairy Wing Crescent moon Star Flower Bird Ribbon Swirl Jellyfish Cloud

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dad says the fairy in the old Bramley tree is only the wind getting into the netting, but I have seen her twice now, once at dawn when the mist was still sitting in the grass, and once last night when the moon was a thin white paring above the orchard wall. She sits in the crook of the branch with her knees drawn up, a small brown bird perched on one finger as if it were a tame sparrow from the kitchen step.

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Today I followed the ribbon she dropped. It ran down the slope past the ladders and the wasps in the windfalls, over the stile, and into the bottom field where the stream goes slow through the reeds. There, in the old cattle trough where we keep the spray water, two jellyfish were turning in the green light, trailing their threads like the hem of a dress nobody had finished sewing. I didn't touch them. Mum would have had a fit. I counted their tentacles twice and they were still there when I went back up the hill.

Jess at the post office says the orchard was planted by a girl who wanted her trees to reach the moon, and that the moon sent down a fairy to stop the fruit falling before it was ripe. Jess has got the sea part wrong, I think, because Bramley is four miles from any water that isn't a puddle. Nobody in our family has ever picked the good fruit without a fight, so perhaps the fairy has her reasons.

I left her the sweetest windfall on the wall last night, split open so the juice showed. This morning it was gone, and in its place a single strand of silver ribbon was tied round the stalk of the next apple, as if she wanted me to know she had taken it and was keeping the change.