Two matching fine line tattoos on the inner wrists, each showing the word Always, a triangle, circle and vertical line symbol, and small stars.

Matching Always and Deathly Hallows wrist tattoos

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two wrists are shown side by side, each with a matching tattoo of the word Always in thin script, beside a triangle, circle and vertical line symbol and a small cluster of stars. The linework is fine and even, rendered in black ink with no shading. The hands are angled towards the camera against a plain pale background, which keeps the focus on the two designs.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Always Deathly hallows Star Script Triangle Circle Line

Find an artist for this

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

At the junction where the Thornwick line bends past the goods sidings, Adaeze Holt kept a paraffin lamp burning in her front window every night for her son, Tomas, who had gone east with a crate of apples and not written since the frost came. She knew every train by its wheels. The last one, at ten past eleven, had a squeal in its brakes like a gull, and she always listened for it.

Keep reading

One November that train stopped short of the platform, and a stranger stepped down with wet boots and three bundles in oilcloth. He said he kept the ferry on the dead river and had come about her son. He unwrapped the first: a length of ash no longer than her forearm, which never missed a mark its owner truly meant to hit. The second was a grey pebble with a hole through its middle, which could call back one person who had gone before. The third was a cloak of silver cloth so thin it weighed nothing, and it hid whoever wore it from every eye that looked.

"Which will he want?" she asked. The ferryman shook his head. "None of them. He has been crossing the river on his own two feet all this while, and a man who does that needs no hiding, no calling back and no defending. The lamp is what brought him." He wrapped the bundles again, set them on the bench, and walked away down the line without a lantern.

At first light a figure came up the cinder path with a rucksack on one shoulder and frost on his collar. Tomas did not look at the bundles. He looked at the window, where the lamp was still burning, and raised his hand to it. The ash, the pebble and the cloak lay on the bench until the first goods train came through, and then the wind took the oilcloth, and nobody in Thornwick ever saw it again.