Colour tattoo of Superman in a comic book style on the inner forearm, with a blue cape flowing up towards a raised fist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Superman figure and cape on a forearm

Forearm · Colour · Photo

A raised fist sits above a forearm carrying a colour tattoo of the comic character Superman, shown in full figure with his red and yellow chest emblem. The cape is rendered in blue and red and wraps up the arm towards the wrist, with bold outlines and smooth shading. The photograph is taken against a dark background with warm, slightly reddish lighting.

Forearm Superman Cape Comic character Fist Superhero

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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 ferry put me off on Skerrin with a suitcase, a tin of tea and the last comic my brother ever bought, folded in quarters inside my coat so the damp wouldn't reach it. Nobody on the island read anything that wasn't a tide table. Mrs Oram at the shop asked me if I'd come about the lobsters.

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Eli had left the page creased where a man in blue lifted a falling boat with one arm, his cape streaming behind him like a flag that had decided to be a sail. Eli used to say the cape was the best part, that it ran on past the edge of the panel as if the artist had forgotten to stop it. I pinned the page above the stove in the cottage that had been ours, and every morning the wind off the Atlantic lifted the corner toward the rafters.

In March the Brannock boat went out in a squall and didn't come back for two days. The lifeboat crew had given up on the north skerry when I walked down to the slip with the comic in my fist, not knowing what I meant to do with it. Then the cloud split and a stretch of red-gold light ran along the water, and something blue moved low across the rocks, lifting the stern clear of the reef.

It was only the Brannock's own sail, torn loose and snapping above the wreck, but Pat Brannock swore the stranger's arm was under it. I didn't argue. I went home, pressed the comic flat under the teapot, and kept my fist closed until the tea went cold.