Hand with fine line finger tattoos of two blue-green gemstones and small crosses, placed on the middle, ring and index fingers.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Gemstone and cross finger tattoos

Fine line · Hand · Mixed · Photo

Three small tattoos sit across the fingers of one hand, showing two shaded gemstones, one oval with a scalloped edge and one octagonal, along with a cross with sparkling dots and a thin single-line cross. The gems use blue and green shading with dark outlines, while the crosses are drawn in black linework. The hand rests on a wooden surface with a sandal visible at the bottom of the frame.

Fine line Hand Gemstone Cross Ring Sparkle Jewel Finger

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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

By the third tide of the herring season the net-shed at Skelding Quay smelt of tar and cold brine, and you were the one who sorted what the trawls brought up: weed, bootlaces, the odd sea-boot, once a whole brass lamp. Nobody else would touch the wet pocket of the nets where the small things collected, so you did it with a bent pin and a jar of paraffin.

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That October you found a stone set in a lump of rust-coloured clay, oval and edged with a ring of tiny scallops, blue at the heart and green where the light got through the grime. Beside it lay a little octagon, and then a cross no bigger than a fingernail, scratched into a scrap of tin. Old Ada Penhale at the chandlery said they had belonged to the Morrow girls, who sold their rings to pay for a boat that went down off the Cull in 1961. She told it the way people mention the weather.

You kept the three pieces in a tobacco tin on the windowsill and for a month did nothing with them but look. Then the boats came in short-handed and the widows came down to the quay with their hands pushed deep in their coat pockets. You took the tin to the harbour wall and told the first woman who asked that the sea was still owed a little, and that she should take what she needed and go home.

She slid the cross onto her finger and turned her hand to the lamplight, and the sparks in the tin-work scattered across the wet planks like a handful of spilt salt, and the tide turned without anyone noticing.