Black ink tattoo of an ornamental stormtrooper helmet on the upper arm, with swirling patterns filling the helmet and face.

Ornamental stormtrooper helmet on upper arm

Blackwork · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A stormtrooper helmet is tattooed on the upper arm near the shoulder, shown in solid black ink. The helmet is filled with swirling, tribal-style ornamental patterns, with bold outlines and decorative detailing around the eyes, mouth grille and cheek panels. The tattoo is shown in black and grey only, centred on the arm against plain skin.

Blackwork Upper arm Stormtrooper Helmet Star wars Ornamental pattern

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

Sit closer, you lot, and mind the fire, for the tale of Ysolde Pike is older than your grandmothers' grandmothers and it does not care for interruptions. In the kingdom of Ostrenna, which the old maps drew and then thought better of, the king kept a guard of masked men. Their helmets were pale as cuttlefish bone, and every one was worked by hand by the smiths on the Harrow Stair, where the forge ran on coal dug from the drowned mines.

Keep reading

Ysolde was the eldest of them, and she had a habit of cutting curls into the metal while she hummed the names of rivers. She never drew a face on a helmet. A face, she said, was a thing a man was born with and could not give back. So she filled each brow with spirals and each cheek with lace, until the guards marched out looking like the sugar skulls the mourners carried through the autumn streets, and the people loved them for it.

Then the king asked for one more helmet, a plain one, for his new captain, a boy from the river towns whose name nobody remembers now. Ysolde refused. The king sent men up the Stair. When they came back down, the boy wore a helmet with spirals, and the bellows stayed quiet for a year.

But Ysolde had not been idle. In the cheek panels of that helmet she had hidden the course of the river that ran past the boy's mother's door, every bend and weir cut so fine that only a thumb could find it. On dark nights the captain pressed his fingers to the metal and followed the water home, and that is why the helmets of Ostrenna have rivers in their cheeks, and why no one ever found the captain's face, only the way back to the water.