Two arms show black and grey full sleeve tattoos with a samurai warrior and skull on the left arm and ravens, swords and a skull on the right, both covering the upper arm and forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Samurai and skull full sleeves

Japanese · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

Two arms of a shirtless man are covered in full sleeve tattoos. The left arm shows a detailed samurai in armour with a skull face, and the right arm shows ravens flying over swords, a helmet and a skull among clouds and foliage. The shading is smooth and realistic, with dense black and grey tones and a dark background.

Japanese Realism Shoulder Upper arm Forearm Skull Raven Armour Cloud Bird Sword Helmet Branch

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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 closer, the fire is only as good as the wood you give it, and the wind out here takes everything we don't hold down. You want to know why the ravens follow the salt carts. Hush, I am coming to it.

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Years back, on the road from Tabrez to the dead wells, there rode a swordsmith's son named Hadi Sorn who had been sent to fetch his father's helmet. The old man had lost it in a sandstorm the winter he went blind, and he wanted it back before he died, because a helmet left unclaimed is a grave that never gets a stone. Hadi walked the whole stretch with a katana wrapped in oiled cloth across his back, and every evening a black bird came down out of the clouds and sat on the cart rail beside him, watching the sand.

On the ninth night the bird spoke, which I will not dispute with you, since you have not been to the dead wells. It said, 'The helmet lies under the bones of the last man who wore it, and he will not give it up for nothing.' Hadi laughed and offered it bread. The raven ate, then flew to the ridge where a skull lay grinning among the scrub, and Hadi followed on his knees through the thorn until he reached it.

Under the skull was a helmet, cracked, and beside it a second blade, rusted through. Hadi lifted the helmet and the wind dropped as though someone had shut a door. The raven settled on his shoulder, light as a folded letter, and said nothing more. He carried the helmet home, and his father, who could not see it, put it on his head anyway and wept for the first time in twenty years. So when you see those birds over the salt carts, you know who they are watching for. Now the fire is low, and I am tired, and you owe me a coin for the telling.