Fiery Hair Novels & Stories

"It's not that I am deciding against what you want, but "Raine you have a beautiful hair full of life, and the color is unique.why do you want to cut and color it? " " I just want to try on some new styles." Together with her changeof identity she also wants to change her appearance without going under the blade, and her iconic flaming hair is the first thing that needs to go. "Why don't you try to use other options?" " Like what?"

I sink in with a soft groan, letting my sore muscles relax. After a good soak and scrub, I quickly dry off and work a brush through my wet hair. My hair is… wild—a massive wavy multi-color mess. Red, blonde, brown, black, even golden strains blended to cascade down to the middle of my back and 100% my natural hair. It reminds me of the autumn season when the leaves change from their summer brilliance to their cozy fall colors. I run my fingers through them with some hair product and let it dry naturally.

And here I am—just one human girl, caught in their clutches. And their king? What haven’t I heard about him? His cruelty, his ferocity in battle, the way he takes what he wants without hesitation or mercy. No one knows his name; they simply call him the barbarian king. The world simply knows that he is a Firefang wolf, a breed born of radiation, known for their volcanic bites and lightning combats.

This is what Xiao Long will take advantage of, but who has these materials? “I have it.” Huo Yan said. Xiao Long smiled, he had expected it. Huo Yan was the son of the Sect Leader, Xiao Long was sure he also possessed the fire attribute since he had the name 'Fire' and also flaming red hair. A ridiculous reason indeed, but he thought it made sense because this was the logic he had gotten from reading many cultivation novels. Huo Yan took out a feather of fiery red color like a flame. The feather was enveloped with mysterious energy and fire-weighted Qi. The fire was not only hot, but strangely also had some sort of soothing, healing effect.

That's the worst thing anyone has ever said to me and I'm sick of this disrespectful little bitch. I focus on her long hair. And then… "OH MY GOD!" she yells and freaks out when the ends of it start burning. I keep it up for just two seconds, but that's enough to shut her up. All of them, "What the fuck?" "Never compare me to those fuckers again," I warn, pointing at her face. She's holding the ends of her hair, still in shock and fear. And... well, maybe I shouldn't have done that, "Oh, stop it. I only burned the ends of it. They were dead anyway. That's what you get for messing with the Fire Omega."

“It may not mean as much to you, after all, you were thrown here through circumstances out of your control. Knowing nothing and nobody, but Juvia, Charlotte would have been so proud of you. She would have seen what you came from, what you have endured and how you have become the strong woman you are.” Her hand moved to my hair. Lifting a lock of my curly, long vibrant orange hair. “Did you know, when the sunlight hits your hair at the peak of the day, your hair glows? It's like looking into the debts of a raging fire that dances and flickers with every movement. The colours shimmer, oranges mixing with reds of all shades. It’s mesmerizing and rhythmic yet chaotic and wild.” I watched her fac

God. My hair was wild. Not the cute, effortless kind of wild either. No, this was full-on crazy wild. My light brown strands were poking out in every direction like they'd been in a wind tunnel. I looked like someone who’d just fought frontline in a war and then passed out face-first into ditch. Or maybe just a girl who’d been thoroughly fucked.

And I had silver hair, which by far, has proven to be one of the main characteristics of my freakness. All of that, and I was not “Okay.” I pursed my lips and braced my hands on my waist, feeling tense from the root of my hair down to the smallest toe. “What do I need to do?” “Just focus… Stare at it, and then try to set it ablaze.” She countered so casually you could've sworn she was asking me to throw a bloody ball into the net. But she pressed on so hard I had no choice but to do as she instructed.

And cut. I don't cry. I don't hesitate. This hair was the hair Aureliano stroked. This was the hair Spadino buried his face in. This was the hair Ciro held when he fucked me. It has to go. When I am done, my hair is a jagged, chin-length bob. It looks rough. Angry. I take out the box of hair dye. Jet Black. I mix it in the sink. The chemical smell burns my nose. I slap the black sludge onto my head, rubbing it into my scalp until it stains my skin.

My cheeks, my ears and even the skin of my neck Feyi very very hot and I did not need to look at my reflection to tell that at the moment, I looked as ripe as a tomato. My now red face must be some thing that they found very amazing as they all let out more shrieks yet again. My cheeks were prodded and pinched, my hair was stroked and one of the she wolves even went ahead and out my golden hair in to a eat braid. Another thing fact I have noticed is fact among the locals, blonde hair was not found. They all had either auburn or brown hair. If I want to be completely honest with myself, I am not sure how to act at the moment.