Ragnar Head Tattoo Novels & Stories

Just the mere thought of it made me want to go on a killing spree. “I will have all of your heads, you fools!” My gaze shifted to Ragnar, who was a couple feet away from us. His eyes were red, but not nearly as red as his face. He was seething with so much rage, I loved it. Three of my guards stood before him, blocking his path to us. He must have tried to stop me from fucking his wife. Too bad. Ronan stepped forward, his eyes cold as he stared down at Ragnar. I knew all he wanted was to rip Ragnar’s head off his shoulders.

Clara and following him were Ajay, Calvin, and Miles with a sword in hand. “King Raiden, if that’s who you are, we demand Shuntha’s head!” Yelled a bald, broad-shouldered, tattooed man. He had a flat wide nose and was missing his two canine teeth, any chance he had he would make any excuse to take off his shirt. His body was covered in tattoos and scars, his most prominent scars were along his forehead as if he was getting scalped. The next ran along his throat and finally one ran along the left side of his face cutting through his eye and lips. He was partially blind because of this, and his eye was almost white but it didn’t stop him from causing the most trouble.

At the midpoint of the symbol was a wolf head facing forward in perfect symmetry with gold sigils and angular patterns running down its face. Surrounding the wolf head is a circular cosmic halo, etched with stars and flowing lines, crown-like points around the circle, forming a halo that resembles a crest, and a downward-pointing triangular element beneath the wolf. “Why would you touch that?” Freya asked, glaring daggers at me. “I think its high time she left, Thor.” Thor flashed Freya a dangerous glare and I stood immediately. “I think I should leave like she said.” I uttered. “I’ll go see Roxanne now.”

I told him sternly. "What?! But—" He tried to protest, but I cut him off. "You need to find information about a girl with a face tattoo." "Girl with a what? Where did you hear that?" I heard Axhton groaned, staring at his phone as Raynel whined. "From the Rose Gang." "Is that why you ripped their leader's head off?" Raynel inquired drastically changed from being a jerk to a serious face. It feels like he’s a complete different person. But it will only be for a moment before he reverts back to his old playboy self.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

He scratched his face several times with his bloodstained fingers, staining his long, greasy brown hair as it fell on both sides of his face; then it was the turn of the hairy left shoulder and then the right armpit. Ragnar watched the spectacle without making any noise. He then wasted no time. He started to wriggle and rock back and forth as he shook his feet to loosen his ties. He took advantage of the precarious shelter afforded him by a branch of fragrant leaves. However, the bump on his back did not help him. It reduced his movements and limited his action. The colossus’s attention was focused on his task, he raised and violently brought down his huge knife to butcher the animal and bre

He was grunting, his arm moving back and forth across his lap. "Oh, sorry!" I exclaimed, realizing it probably wasn't appropriate for me to have just barged into his tent. It was clear that I had interrupted something private, and I didn't want to stick around to see how it ended. Ragnar jumped, slamming his hands on the table. Something rattled out of his palm and across the table. "Don't scare me like that, you almost messed up my line work," Ragnar chuckled, sitting back in his chair. As he leaned back, I realized he wasn't actually doing what I thought he was doing. He had been tattooing his stomach. The fresh black ink left the skin red and puffy around the edges, but the intricate line

You'll soon learn what it is. RAGNARS stood on the edge of a huge amphitheater on the Fang side. It was so large that there were perhaps tens of thousands instead of a few would-be winds waiting there. The sun's rays broke through the stormy clouds. The air was cold and small snowflakes fluttered in the wind. In the center of the arena was a regular daisy bearing the symbol of the wolf's head. Huge wolf-headed statues guarded the entrance. Ranek stood in the middle and watched her. His gaze made Ragnar look small.

Ragnar was there on my bed. His legs were crossed at the ankle. His hands were behind his head, propping it up like he owned the place, like he was in his own private kingdom. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a tanned, hard chest dark skin that looked warm, tempting, dangerous. The lines of muscle moved when he breathed. For a split second, my eyes betrayed me. He looked… edible. Like sin carved into flesh. I tore my gaze away, forcing the thought away. “What are you doing here?” My voice was sharp.

Perhaps I no longer belong to the moon goddess either. Ragnar appears in the doorway, blood streaking his defined bare chest and jeans barely in place. He buttons the top button of his pants as he walks into the room and pauses when I lower my hand. Around her heart are the marks of the moon, and I stare at them a second too long.