Two matching black fine line diamond tattoos with light shading, one on each of two forearms placed side by side.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Matching diamond tattoos on two forearms

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two small diamond outlines sit on two separate areas of skin, one above the other, with the upper one angled to the left and the lower one turned to the right. The linework is thin and dark, with soft grey shading along the facets to give a faceted, three-dimensional look. The ink is black on skin tones, and the close framing keeps the focus on the two matching designs.

Fine line Forearm Diamond Gem Matching Outline

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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 stone has a flaw running through its heart like a hair in milk, and the cutting bench on Halden Deep has been drifting toward it for three days. You lean over the scanner with your sister's breath on your neck and tell her the facets will hold if they keep the angle steep. Mirela says the angle was never the problem. The problem is that you both drew the same stone on your arms at nineteen, in a parlour above a noodle shop on the Vesk Ring, and you have been cutting to that drawing ever since.

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The drawing turned out to be wrong. The upper facet, the one you inked slanting left, catches light the way the old sketches promised, but the lower one was drawn turned right so the two would face each other across a wrist. Nobody cuts a stone to face a person. You say this on the comms while the bench hums, and she laughs in the particular way that means she has known for years.

When the flaw splits the stone at the girdle, neither of you swears. You watch the two halves tumble into the catch tray, grey and clean, and you pick up the smaller one. It sits in your palm the way a shell sits in a child's hand. You close your fingers and feel the old ink on your forearm warm against the metal, which is impossible, and also the only sensible thing that has happened all shift.

Mirela sends a single frame from her side of the ring: her own forearm, the diamond there still turned to face empty air, and beside it on her bench a second cut stone set so its facets point back at hers. You run the scanner again. The flaw is gone. Forty years of work, and the first perfect thing either of you has made is the one that says you were never going to stop looking for each other.