Colourful Star Wars forearm sleeve in a realistic style with a galaxy background, Darth Maul, a stormtrooper and Darth Vader on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Star Wars galaxy sleeve on forearm

Realism · Forearm · Colour · Photo

Three views of a forearm sleeve tattoo themed on Star Wars, with Darth Maul's face at the lower centre, a stormtrooper helmet and a Darth Vader helmet further down, and small starships and dark silhouettes against the background. The figures are rendered with smooth shading and detail, set against a blue, purple and teal galaxy with pink and red roses and a building that may be the Death Star. Colour ink dominates across the whole piece, and the photographs are taken against a plain background.

Realism Forearm Star wars Stormtrooper Darth vader Galaxy Rose Death star Sleeve

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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 sports hall still smelled of floor polish, and the name badges were the sticky sort that peeled off your jumper before you'd finished the handshake. Rhys Ashworth found you beside the squash urn, holding a paper plate of rock cakes as if he'd been posted there as sentry. "Still got the book?" he said, and you laughed, because you had both forgotten the Year Nine chemistry textbook until he said it.

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Back then the two of you had drawn across its margins every lesson, one page at a time. You started with a ringed battle station in the corner of the periodic table, he answered with a horned red face on the next page, and by March the back half was a galaxy of blues and purples with a white armoured soldier stalking across a column of atomic weights. Mr Dunmore confiscated it in May, and you assumed it had gone in the bin with the rest of that term.

Then Dunmore himself rolled past in a wheelchair, older and smaller, and Rhys nudged you toward him. The old teacher looked at your name badge for a long moment, then reached into a canvas bag on his knee and drew out the textbook, its spine held together with parcel tape. "Kept it in my desk," he said. "Never could decide whose it was."

You opened it at the back. Under the faded galaxy, in fresh black biro, someone had added one last ringed moon, a helmet in the corner, and two sets of initials, one of them yours, both of you grown up now.