Malcolm X Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

Shit! Maybe deciding to pull his shirt was a bad idea. My eyes landed on his tattoo and I was finally able to see what was drawn there. “Wow.” I mouthed, my fingers slowly grazing on his tattoo. I couldn't help but touch it. It was a picture of a snarling wolf head, at one side of his chest. Just above his right nipple. I never knew Malcolm had sexy and inviting nipples. “Noelle focus.” I scolded myself, removing my hand from his chest.

Grace long to explore it, but she respected Xan's wishes. “Grace, you shouldn’t be out here by yourself!” Xan said coming up behind her and putting his hands around her waist. Xan softly kissed the side of Grace's neck where her Gang mark was. The mark was a Phoenix and a Lion rearing on its hind legs with a harp in between them. All three gangs are represented in a beautiful coat of arms style tattoo. Xan had repeatedly told her that she did not need to have it on her neck, but Grace wanted to show who she finally was. Yes, it hurt like a bitch, but it was something that Grace truly wanted to do and her family could not be prouder.

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to

The tattoo was more than just an ordinary tattoo; it was a rank, "these guys have been in and out of prison, and the dollar sign was a ranking of twenty-six. The number twenty-six was high ranking amongst other prisoners, indicating they do not fear returning to prison. The guy with the tattoo, who was six feet grabbed Jimmy and pushed him to the window, then removed his gun. The train stopped by the next station, and people ran out as the train reached a standstill. "Hey, man, let him go." Said Joey; the other two men, surprisingly, also had guns; Joey had noticed the tattoo of the other two guys; one was a rapist and the other a killer.

he chuckled,”You’re a good asset to my gang. “What’s the last part of my training?” I asked, remembering the conversation from earlier. “You have to get a tattoo,” he stated. “A tattoo?” I gaped, “Why?” “It’s the trademark,” he smiled,”It’s kind of like a brand. Everyone in my gang has the tattoo.” “What’s the tattoo of?” I wondered. “A Devil's,” he smiled, “Or serpents.” “Why a Devil?” I questioned. “My gang name is The Devil's Brotherhood,” he smirked. I chuckled, and looked at him.

The revelation about the masked man having a dragon tattoo had struck a chord within him, sending his thoughts spiraling. A surge of memories flooded his mind, memories he had tried to bury deep within his consciousness. The image of a fierce dragon tattoo, its intricate design etched upon a powerful Lycan King's arm, resurfaced in his thoughts. Xander knew all too well the significance of such a mark. It was a symbol of authority, a mark reserved for those who held immense power within the Lycan community.

“I know you don’t get to see that side of me. I’m glad you liked it.” “I while you were speaking, I thought up an idea for a tattoo for you. I can draw it up this afternoon if you are interested.” He looks ecstatic at the idea. Bronx and Cason have a very distinct plan for what Bronx will look like when they finish with all his tattoos. Milo and Reggie just get tattoos when they feel like it. I have only ever gotten another small tattoo on my ankle with the date of Sin’s attack on Blood River to commemorate the pack members who lost their lives.

He had his dad's charm and maybe something darker and evil than his dad that no one knew. Lucifer had many guys working under him; if his workers dared to double-cross him, they would pay with their lives. His guys all had to have a tattoo with the MF. Letters. Their tattoo was unique a dagger in a heart and thorns with dripping blood engraving MF. Some chose to wear it on their neck and arms, while others decided to have it tattooed across their chest. Joshua had a different type of tattoo, also mafia but chose to be unique, the same as his dad.

He patted my shoulder with his tattooed hand. I stared at it, his body was so beautiful, it was like a display of art. Various inks and pictures went up his arms, to his neck and his back. It was truly beautiful, there was a wolf, a symbol, a date, a quote, a picture of some guy and my favorite tattoo was on the back of his hand. It was, 'Fuck you. It's my life' written in italic letters. "Someday you will have something meaningful enough kid." He wound his arm around my neck and practically dragged me to the back of the shop where most of the piercings were done. "Now, wait here while I get the equipments ready."

Family. “What’s that?” Vivian asked, leaning closer. Jasper pulled out a faded photograph. Three people. A woman. A child. And a tall man with slicked-back hair, standing stiffly behind them. But that wasn’t what caught their attention. It was the tattoo on the side of the man’s neck. An infinity dragon — twisted, sharp, and unmistakable. “You showed us this earlier.” Tasha’s voice was almost a whisper. Jasper nodded slowly. “U suddenly remembered that the face looked familiar. That’s Malcolm,” he said. “He used to come around when I was little. My mom said he was an old friend of the family. A businessman.”