Realism tattoo of the Death Star from Star Wars inside a heart outline on a leg, shaded in black, grey and blue.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Death Star inside a heart on a leg

Realism · Thigh · Mixed · Photo

A heart-shaped frame holds a shaded image of the Death Star from Star Wars, with its large dish-shaped surface and trench detail visible against a dark sky. The shading is smooth and detailed, with grey and blue-tinted tones giving depth to the planet and the heart outline. Partial tattoos in red and dark ink sit at the edges of the frame, and the skin and a wooden floor are visible around the subject.

Realism Thigh Death star Heart Star wars Space

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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

Sit down, sit down, the 4.10 is forty minutes late and it isn't going to hurry for either of us. You want the one about my uncle Alf and the moon that came down the line? Right. He was a lamp man at Crewe Junction in the year the coal ran short, and every night he trimmed his lamps and looked up through the smoke at the sky, the way you'd look at a dog you didn't trust.

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One November he saw a shape hanging over the sidings. Round as a dinner plate, grey as wet slate, with a great dish cut into its face like something had tried to scoop out its middle and given up halfway. The signal boys swore there was a trench running round its belly, dark as a tunnel mouth. Alf said it hung over the goods yard three nights running and never once showed a light, and he thought that was the worst of it.

On the fourth night the 9.40 pulled in carrying nothing but blankets and one woman in a green coat who asked him the way to the sea. He told her the sea was the other way. She said she knew that, she only wanted to hear somebody say it plainly. Then she looked up at the moon, and the moon seemed to look back, and she laughed like a kettle coming to the boil. Alf never did learn what she meant by it.

The moon was gone the morning after, quiet as a cold grate. Alf always said that if you stood on the footbridge and were patient, you could still see the faint ring of it on the clouds. And the trains ran smoother from then on, as though somebody had finally shown the rails where to go.