Two black and grey fine line tattoos: a geometric Totoro-style creature on the forearm and a peacock feather along the ribs.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Totoro-style creature and feather tattoos

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The left photograph shows a fine line tattoo of a Totoro-style creature with round eyes, whiskers and a triangle pattern on its belly, overlaid with geometric lines and a dotted circle. The right photograph shows a shaded peacock feather with a detailed eye at its tip, curving diagonally across the side of the ribs. Both tattoos are in black ink and grey shading, and the two photographs are presented side by side.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Ribs Totoro Creature Feather Peacock feather Eye Geometric line Triangle

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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

Dear Ivo, the 23 didn't come last night, so I sat in the shelter on Gorse Road until the cold got into my knees, and then something grey and enormous unfolded itself out of the hedge behind me. You'll say I'd been at the Crown's cider. I hadn't. It had round eyes the size of saucers, ears like two folded tents, and a belly marked with a row of little black triangles, like tents pitched in a line. It didn't speak. It just sat down beside me and waited, the way you used to wait outside Dr Haig's for Mum.

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It took a thin pen-line from its whiskers and drew lines across the air, one to the crane lights at the docks, one to the spire of St Aidan's, one to the rooftops of the estate where Dad's flat is. Each line was so exact you could have measured it with a ruler. Where they crossed, a dotted circle appeared on the dark, as if someone had stencilled the moon in for the night. I'm not making this up. I could feel the edges of the city settling into place around us.

Then it lifted a feather from somewhere in its fur, long and green-bronze, with an eye at its tip that blinked slow as a cat. It laid the feather on the bench between us and went back into the hedge without a sound. The eye kept watching me, and when headlights swung round the corner it turned towards them, and so did I.

The 23 came, lit up like a chapel. I'm on it now, and I'm taking the feather to the harbour in the morning, where I'll leave it with the gulls if the eye tells me to. Come home, or at least write back. Your sister, Mags.