Realistic colour tattoo of red lips parted around fangs and a tongue, with a drop of blood, on the lower leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Realistic red lips with fangs and a drip of blood

Realism · Calf · Colour · Photo

A photograph of a realistic tattoo of red lips parted to show two small fangs and a pink tongue, with a single drop of blood running from the lower lip. The shading uses smooth gradients and highlights to give the lips volume, with darker red edging along the outlines. The tattoo sits centrally on a pale limb against a blue denim background.

Realism Calf Lip Fangs Tongue Blood

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

Sit down, and mind the windfalls, because they bruise the way a rumour does. You want to know about Mrs Hollis's orchard behind the chapel, where the Bramleys hung so heavy that August the boughs touched the grass. I'll tell you what my grandmother told me, and she had it from a man who swore he'd been there.

Keep reading

The stranger came up the lane the week the harvest was due, carrying nothing but a leather case and a mouth so red the children stopped their game to stare. He asked for picking work. Mrs Hollis gave him the north rows, where nobody went because the trees were older than the parish registers and dropped their fruit sour. He never complained. He ate one apple a day, slowly, and when the juice ran down his chin he wiped it with the back of his hand, and there was always a bead of something darker left on his lower lip, and two small teeth showing when he smiled.

By the third week the wasps had gone quiet and the apples came away clean in the hand, no bruising, no rot. Mrs Hollis counted her baskets twice and then a third time. Tom Ashdown, the boy who carried for her, went to look one dusk and found the stranger on his knees under the oldest tree, lips against the bark, that single drop gathering before he licked it back in. Tom ran all the way home and told no one but the stone wall by the lane, which is where I learned it.

So if you pick in the north rows this year, take a basket and go in daylight. Notice the blackbirds won't sing in that corner, and the fruit there is too red to be ripe.