Close photo of a large botanical and realistic feather tattoo with blue, pink and purple shading across a person's stomach and side, with a navel piercing visible.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Feather and floral tattoo across the torso

Botanical · Other · Mixed · Photo

A large tattoo of feathers with blue and teal shading and a peacock-like eye detail covers the stomach and side of the torso. Fine black swirls, scrolls and small pink and purple flowers frame the feathers, with soft shading giving depth to the plumes. The close crop shows the design wrapping around the midriff while the person holds the waistband of a pair of shorts.

Botanical Realism Other Feather Swirl Scroll Flower Floral Peacock feather

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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

The peacock came over the wall in April, the same week the rhubarb bolted, and by the time you had found the hose it was standing on the potting bench as if someone had booked it. Mrs Okonedo at the lodge said it belonged to the Haverleigh estate two miles off and had been slipping its fence since the keeper died. You did not believe her until it opened its tail across the gravel and every bed in the walled garden went quiet.

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You started gathering what it dropped. A plume under the espaliered pear, a drab brown quill by the compost heap, and then the eyes, those bronze rings rimmed with teal, which you pressed flat between the pages of Aunt Maud's seed catalogues. By August the catalogues were as thick as hymnals. You meant to give them back. You kept finding more, and the bird kept watching you from the top of the glasshouse with the patience of a landlord.

It stopped coming in October. In November old Teodor, whose hands were knotted like the wisteria roots, asked you to lift the border under the south wall, and you found the last feather buried beneath the bulbs, perfect and unbroken, as though it had been put there for safe keeping. You carried it to the lodge in a seed packet. Mrs Okonedo turned it over under the lamp and said the bird only ever came where something was being grown.

You planted the quill upright in the phlox bed that spring, tamped the soil around it, and forgot about it through the wet weeks of May. By July the phlox had come up pink and violet all around its shaft, and when the morning sun slanted over the wall, the centre of every bloom had opened into a small green-and-bronze eye, watching the path.