Pink and purple peony tattoo with black and grey feather detail across a thigh and hip, in a bold Japanese-influenced style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Peonies and feathers on a thigh

Japanese · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A person lies beside a swimming pool with a large tattoo of pink and purple peonies, green leaves and a black and grey feathered bird across the thigh and hip. The peonies have bold dark outlines and smooth shading, while the feathers use fine grey hatching. The composition is an angled close crop with a turquoise lace bikini and an open book with blood-style splatter in the frame.

Japanese Neo-trad Thigh Other Peony Feather Bird Leaves Book

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The peonies came up crimson in the wrong bed, and Maud Harrowby would not have them moved. She had ordered the roots from a nursery in Leeds on the strength of a coloured plate, and the plate had promised pink fading to lilac at the fringe. Instead the heads opened the colour of a fresh cut, and the leaves turned so dark in the rain they looked lacquered. The carter asked whether he should dig them out before the frost. 'They were paid for,' she said, and went back to the window.

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Her brother's pheasant feathers were still pinned inside the pantry door, grey-barred and fine as pen nibs, where Edmund had left them the November before he went to France. Maud had never liked the birds. He had shot them for sport and brought the tails home for her to arrange in a vase, which she had done, and then forgotten. On the first wet evening of June she took down the old botany book he kept on the sill, meaning only to check the Latin, and found his pressings tucked between the pages: flattened leaves, a grey feather, and a card in his careless hand that read, Keep the north bed as it is, whatever they say.

She went out in her slippers with the shears. The bloom she cut was the largest, its petals heavy enough to bow the stem, and she carried it in without a drop of rain touching it. At the kitchen table she laid it open on the book beside the feather. Where the petals had been crushed in her fist, a dark pink juice ran across the margin and onto the printed page, spreading into the word Peonia in a spatter she could not wipe clean. She left it there, and went to find a second vase for the feathers.