Black and grey botanical rose tattoo on a woman's left shoulder and upper arm, with a rose and dotwork mandala on her right upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Rose and mandala tattoos on shoulder and upper arm

Botanical · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A close crop of a woman's upper body in a black lace camisole, showing tattoos on both upper arms and shoulders. The tattoo on the left shoulder shows rose blooms and leaves in soft shaded greyscale linework. On the right upper arm, a rose sits above a dense dotwork mandala, with fine stippled shading. The palette is entirely black and grey against warm skin tones, and the framing centres on the chest and arms.

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

The rose came up through the cracks in the chapel floor the spring after the last lord of Corran Hold rode out and did not return, and nobody in the valley would cut it back. Old Hanna, who kept the goats on the hill, said it had grown from the blood of a cook who was hanged for poisoning the well. Her sister said it was the lord's own heart, buried under the altar without his body. Neither story was true, but both were repeated at every harvest supper.

Keep reading

Their children grew up climbing the walls. In the courtyard, under the leaves, was a circle of grey stone set into the ground, cut with eight spokes and rings of smaller marks so fine that a boy had to kneel to count them. The mason who made it had been paid in silver and sent away before the walls fell. Hanna's grandson Tam said the marks were a map of the sky on the night the castle was built. His cousin said they were a clock that stopped when the lord died.

In the year of the long drought, Tam stood in the centre of the circle with a bucket of water and found that the spokes ran down to the rose's roots. He poured the water along the lines, one ring at a time, counting as he went, and when the last ring was wet the bush put out a bloom as wide as his palm. It smelled of rain on hot stone.

He did not pick it. He sat beside it until the sun went behind the broken keep, and he said nothing to anyone about it for the rest of his life, though the goats knew, and so did the rose.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.