Realistic black and grey tattoo of a zipper opening on a forearm, revealing a skeletal claw beneath the skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Unzipping skeletal claw on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A zipper tattoo runs across the forearm, appearing to split the skin open to reveal a skeletal, claw-like form underneath. The shading is smooth and three-dimensional, with fine metallic highlights on the zip teeth and soft grey shadows that give the opening depth. Ink is almost entirely grey and black, with a faint pinkish tone along the edges of the opening.

Find an artist for this

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

Day 41, south of the Horn, and the crate has started to hum again. The captain says it is the windlass bearings, but I have tightened every bearing on this ship twice, and the sound comes from the lashed crate in the aft lazarette, the one with the brass zip down its lid that nobody will sign for. Mr Pettifer from the owners said only that it was bound for Valparaíso and not to open it. I have been a ship's carpenter for twenty-two years, and I know a seam that wants to part.

Keep reading

Tonight the watch was changed in a fog so thick I could not see the foremast from the galley door. I went down with a lantern and my tin of beeswax. The zip tape had split at the far end, a gap no wider than a finger, and through it came a cold that smelled of tar and wet ash. I did not open it further. I pressed a strip of sailcloth over the gap and stitched it with marlin, the way my father taught me to close a torn sail, and I went to bed with my boots on.

At four bells the sailcloth was pulled clean off and the zip pull lay on the deck, its teeth bent outward as though something had been drawn through from within. The crate was still shut. Across the boards ran a fine grey dust, leading up the companionway towards the rail.

In the morning I found the second mate asleep on the hatch with his mouth open and a bone hand resting on his chest, fingers curled around my tin of beeswax. The crate was empty, its lid zipped shut from inside. I have sealed the hatch myself now, and I have not told the captain, because the hum has stopped and the ship, for the first time since Cape Town, sits quiet on the swell.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.