Black and grey realism tattoo on an upper arm showing a shaded deity face framed by an om symbol and angular diamond shapes.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Deity face with om symbol on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A close crop of a tattoo showing a shaded human face with long hair, set within a large om-style symbol and several angular diamond shapes. The face is rendered with smooth grey shading and fine hatching in the hair, while the surrounding symbol uses bold solid black lines. The composition is centred on the face, with the symbol wrapping around it and a patterned band across the neck.

Realism Upper arm Deity Face Om symbol Diamond Hair Necklace

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 hum came up through the deck plates at the third bell, as it had every shift since the Lantern left Hesper Dock, and Ioana Vale pressed her palm to the bulkhead the way her grandmother had taught her to check a child for fever. The plate was cold. Behind it, the mosaic the crew called the Listener had been bolted to the ship's spine before anyone now living had come aboard. A broad face looked out from the steel, its eyes shaded like river stones, its hair drawn in tight grey hatching, and around it the great curling sign of the old prayer, broken by angular diamonds that the crew had never agreed the purpose of.

Keep reading

Dhara, the maintenance mind, had asked her to open the diamond above the brow. It was the only one with a seam she could find with a fingernail. The panel came away with a sigh of dust, and inside, where Ioana expected wiring, she found a sheaf of paper folded small and gone soft as cloth. The ink was brown. The hand was careful and slanted, and every line was a name. Most had been struck through with a single neat stroke. Some had a date beside them, and some had only a word: calm, cold, returned, sung.

She read down to the bottom. The last name was hers, already written in the same brown ink, though she had never touched that page. Beneath it there was a space left for another. The hum dropped half a tone, as if the whole ship had let out a breath it had been holding for a very long time. Ioana took the stub of pencil from her collar, wrote her own name in the empty space, and then, after a moment, wrote Dhara's beneath it. She folded the paper back along its old creases and set the diamond in place, pressing until the seam closed.