Black and grey line drawing of a keyhole with an eye inside, framed by a crown, sunburst rays and two banners, in a vintage engraved style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Keyhole crest with crown and banners

Traditional · Black and grey · Flash

The drawing shows a circular crest with a keyhole at its centre, an eye set in the opening and wavy lines behind it. A beaded ring surrounds the crest, with a crown above and radiating sunburst lines around it. Two ribbon banners sit at the bottom, one with the words FALL OUT BOY across the top and the other below, and the shading uses fine hatching in black and grey.

Traditional Keyhole Eye Crown Sunburst Banner Ribbon Crest Wave

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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

The last ferry has already gone when you reach the slipway, so you sit on an upturned crate outside Haskett's chandlery and wait for the tide to turn the harbour back into something you recognise. Mrs Haskett comes out with a tin of tea and a brass key no longer than your finger, its bow worn smooth by a thumb that is not yours. 'Your uncle left this with me before the storm,' she says. 'He said you'd know which box it opens.'

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You know. The sea chest sits under the stairs in the cottage, its hinges furred with rust in the shape of a crown, the same crown he scratched into the lid with a nail the summer you were nine. You drag the chest down to the harbour wall, and the wind pushes at the lid as though it wants to be read aloud. Inside there is no treasure, only a folded chart of the sound with every rock inked in and one spot circled so hard the paper has torn through.

Beneath the chart is a letter in his cramped capitals. The rays stamped on the lid are a compass, he writes, and they point to the channel where the old herring boat went down. The keyhole is for whoever comes looking, and the eye behind it is yours to answer to. The last line tells you to stop waiting for the water to clear. You laugh at that, alone on the wall, because the water never clears here. It only goes still for a moment before it moves again.

You turn the key. The lock gives with a sound like a bell struck underwater, and the lid lifts on its own weight. Beyond the rim of the chest the sea has gone flat and silver to the horizon, and for the first time in years you can see straight out to the place where the rays end.