Colour realism tattoo of a floral bouquet with a sunflower, red rose, pink orchids and blue forget-me-nots on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Floral bouquet with sunflower and rose on a thigh

Botanical · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A large bouquet of flowers fills the frame, centred on a yellow-orange sunflower with a dark seed head and a red rose below it. Pink orchids, red anemones, blue forget-me-nots and small white blossoms sit around the edges against green leaves. The shading is soft and detailed, with smooth gradients on the petals and a dark background behind the bouquet, which is set on pale skin.

Botanical Realism Thigh Sunflower Rose Orchid Flower Bouquet Anemone Forget-me-not Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mab Tennick was the youngest of the gardener's daughters, and the only one who would not be told where to put her feet. When old King Oswin of Hallowmere sent word that he would wed whichever maiden brought him the flower that turned to face his window each morning, the eldest sisters laughed and went down to the market for seed. Mab went up the north slope, where the wind kept the orchids and the sheep well apart, and sat in the grass to wait for something to find her.

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Something did. A sunflower stood at the top of the slope, taller than a door, its petals gone the colour of marmalade at the edges and its face a dark round well full of seed. 'You have walked a long way,' it said, in the voice of a woman. 'Everyone who climbs here wants the crown.' Mab said she wanted only for her father's roses to live through the winter, and that she would not lie to a flower. The sunflower laughed. The pink orchids nodded along the path, and a crowd of red anemones opened their dark eyes to watch.

Then it told her what to carry down. Forget-me-nots, so the road would not forget her. White blossoms, for the frost they had already survived. One rose, cut at the stem, though the sunflower warned her it would bleed on her hand. Mab wrapped them in her apron and walked to Hallowmere without once looking back at the hill.

The king took one look at the bouquet and sent for the gardener himself. He married no one that spring. But when the sunflower on the north slope turned its face at dawn, it faced the cottage where Mab was pegging out her apron to dry, and the old king, who had spent forty years watching his own window, said nothing about it at all.