Coloured drawing of a tattoo design showing two galaxy-filled Sailor Moon silhouettes on crescent moons, an orange and pink moon brooch above, and black and grey mandala flowers below.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sailor Moon crescents and mandala flowers design

Mixed · Flash

A coloured drawing of a tattoo design centred on a golden and pink crescent moon brooch with wings, flanked by two female silhouettes filled with a starry galaxy pattern on crescent moons. Below, black and grey mandala flowers with fine dotted detail sit between the moons. Pink, purple, blue and orange tones dominate the colour, with black and grey used for the mandala elements.

Crescent moon Silhouette Galaxy Mandala Flower Wing Heart

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The brooch came ashore in a net of pilchards, which was how Mabyn Trewin said the best things always arrived in Porthkennack. It was gold and heart-shaped, with wings swept back like a gull's, and a pink stone in its middle that took the lamplight. Her grandson Ezra wanted to sell it to the traveller at the chandlery, because the traveller had offered forty pounds and the boat needed a new engine. Mabyn told him to put it on the windowsill and leave it be.

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Eleven winters before, her daughters Wenna and Jory had taken the Morwenna out past the breakwater to meet a storm that was not forecast, and only the Morwenna's bell had come back, tangled in kelp. Folk in the town said the sisters had been seen dancing on the harbour wall on moonless nights, two shapes against the lamps, their coats full of stars. Nobody had seen them since, and nobody who had seen them ever said so loudly.

On the night of the new moon, Ezra went down to the wall with a torch he did not switch on. The tide was out and the stones were slick. He saw the two women on the curve of the old crescent-shaped mole, their arms lifted, their long shadows lying across the sand like black ribbons. He called out. They did not turn, but one of them lifted a hand and laid it flat against her heart, the way Jory used to when she was embarrassed.

In the morning Mabyn found the brooch gone from the sill and a sprig of black thread lying in its place, knotted into the shape of a flower. She did not ask where the boy had been. She only set the kettle on, and watched the grey boats come in over the bar, one after another, all of them safe.