Black and grey realism tattoo on a hip showing the Death Star, several TIE fighters, an X-wing and a TIE Advanced starfighter.

Star Wars starships on a hip

Realism · Other · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows the Death Star with a large cratered surface and a dish-shaped detail, surrounded by several TIE fighters, an X-wing and a larger angular TIE Advanced style starfighter. The linework is clean and the ships are shaded with smooth grey gradients and highlights to give volume. The ink is entirely black and grey, and the designs are spread across the skin in a loose arrangement that follows the curve of the hip.

Realism Other Death star Star wars Spaceship

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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 down, sit down, the soup isn't going anywhere and neither am I. Right. Brian Carrow, who you'll all remember as the man who never once remembered an anniversary, spent the winter of 1979 building a fleet on the kitchen table. Forty-one ships, glued from balsa and bog paper, every one of them grey as a wet pavement. The Death Star took him a month alone. He pressed the big dish into the middle with the handle of a teaspoon, and when Joan asked why it had to be so lumpy, he said that was the point, the thing had been shot at.

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Come the spring, the wedding was Joan's sister's, up at the chapel above the reservoir, and Brian had been told in no uncertain terms that the fleet would stay in its shoebox. He lasted until the speeches. Out he went behind the village hall with his hat on crooked and a fistful of ships in his coat, and I was the one who followed, because somebody had to carry the hat.

He threw them one at a time. The TIEs skittered off the wall like moths, the X-wing caught the wind and sailed clean over the hedge into a field of sheep, and the larger angular one just tumbled and landed in a puddle with a face on it. The Death Star he simply held, weighing it in his palm for a long while. Then he put it in my hand. Keep that one, he said. Somebody ought to be the one that doesn't get blown up. Then he went back in and danced with his wife until the lights went off, and I've still got it on my mantel.