Two thigh tattoos on a seated person: pink roses in colour on the left thigh and a black and grey castle with a creature and rose on the right thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Roses and castle tattoos on two thighs

Botanical · Thigh · Mixed · Photo

A person sits with their thighs shown, wearing a black polka-dot dress, with a tattoo on each leg. The left thigh has a circular arrangement of pink roses with green leaves and light linework, in colour. The right thigh shows a black and grey castle skyline above a curved creature and a shaded white rose, with fine outlines and soft grey shading.

Botanical Neo-trad Thigh Rose Castle Creature Leaves Frame

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 castle on Skerrow Holm had been empty since my grandmother was a girl, though every summer its windows lit for a single night. My uncle Tam rowed me out in the grey dinghy the year I turned eleven, because the tide was wrong for the ferry and my mother had gone across to the mainland with the fish money. We carried a basket of cold potatoes and a tin of paraffin. Tam said the whale would be waiting in the sound, as it always was on that night, and I was not to look at its eye.

Keep reading

The creature came up beside us just past the skerry, long and curved like a bent bow, its back black and slick and ridged with weed. It did not swim so much as lean. Its breath smelled of cut limes and old rain. Tam tipped his cap and said something in the old tongue, and the creature lowered its head to the gunwale. On its flank, where the skin had gone pale and smooth, someone had carved a rose and filled it with ash, a white flower that never wilted in salt water. I asked who had done it. Tam only said that the castle's last lady had a steady hand and a poor temper.

We reached the landing as the windows came alight, one by one, climbing the cliff like a row of lamps. In the great hall a long table stood set for twelve, each plate with a pink rose laid across it. I understood then that the whale had not been ferrying us. It had been fetching guests, and the roses were what kept the place from forgetting them.

Tam set down the paraffin and took a rose from the nearest plate, pressing it into my palm. 'Keep it dry,' he said, 'and you'll never need to be invited back.' Out in the sound the whale gave one long low note, and the windows went dark, one by one, until only the last rose on the table was still lit.