Traditional style tattoo of a black storm cloud with red shading, yellow lightning bolts and teal raindrops on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Lightning bolt and storm cloud on an upper arm

Traditional · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A bold tattoo of a dark storm cloud with red shading on one side, with three yellow-orange lightning bolts striking down and teal raindrops falling around them. The bolts and cloud have dark outlines and flat, solid fills, with the cloud using soft grey shading. The design sits across the upper arm on pale skin, with the subject filling most of the frame.

Traditional Upper arm Lightning Raindrop

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the loose stone, and sit where the wall still keeps the wind off. Good. Now, the lord of Harrowden kept a storm for a pet. Not a real one, mind, but he believed it followed him up the stairs and down, sulking grey over his shoulder whenever he'd cheated a tenant of his rent. Every ploughman in the valley could tell you that cloud was black as a bruise, and every one of them kept his mouth shut about it.

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The summer the miller's daughter, Annet Cray, refused him, the cloud came down off the hills and sat on the keep itself. It rained blue-green drops hard enough to dent the lead on the roof, and the lord stood on the battlements shouting at the sky. The sky shouted back. Three bolts came down, one after another, orange as a forge, and split the oak gate, the well-head, and the great chair in the hall, which was the only thing he had ever loved.

They say the bolts were no accident. Annet had climbed the hill that night with a bucket of salt water and a stubborn heart, and she tipped every drop into the cloud's grey belly while the lord raged below. Whether that's true, I wasn't there, and nobody in Harrowden was willing to swear to it. They only found the chair in the morning, black and smoking, with a silver ring sitting on the seat where he'd have been.

Annet sold eggs at market the next Tuesday, and she wasn't wearing any ring. Mind your feet on the way out. The cloud still likes to wait at the top of the stairs.