Coloured pen drawing of a skull formed from butterflies, a daisy, leaves and vines, a tattoo flash design.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Skull of butterflies and flowers

Fine line · Colour · Flash

A skull outline is built from butterflies, a yellow daisy, caterpillars, a chrysalis, leaves and winding vines. The linework is fine and consistent, with hatched and patterned wing details. The palette is bright yellow, red, green and blue on a cream background, giving a lively, botanical feel.

Fine line Botanical Skull Butterfly Daisy Leaves Vine Flower

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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

At ten to four the proving cupboard is the only warm room on Tanner Street, and you have been standing in front of it longer than you should. Ruth left a note in her square capitals: TRAY THREE WON'T RISE. DON'T KNOCK IT. Under the cling film the dough sits flat as a pressed leaf, pale at the edges, with a dark seam of rye running through it.

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You remember what she said when you started in March, scraping the bench while the radio gave the shipping forecast: a loaf is a caterpillar until the oven decides otherwise. You had laughed. She had not. She showed you how the good breads split along the top when they were ready, a slash opening like a wing, and how you never hurry that opening with a knife.

So you leave it. You scald the tea urn, weigh out salt for the morning batch, and listen to the flour van reverse up the lane with the driver swearing at the door code he always forgets. By the time the window over the sink has gone from black to the colour of weak milk, the cupboard hums with a sweetness that is almost too much.

When you lift tray three out, it has risen slowly into a dome, and its surface has split into three long fissures, each edged with gold that catches the strip light. You score nothing. Into the oven it goes. At six the first customer, a woman in a yellow raincoat, presses her nose to the glass and asks what the loaf is called. You don't know. You tell her it's still working that out.