Ragnar Lothbrok Tattoos Novels & Stories

Deciding not to interrupt, I rest my weight on one knee and fold my arms across my chest, my eyes ravaging his half naked body. The tattoos along his arms flex and relax with each repetition, ink stretching, contracting and settling again. Ryat, unlike his father and brother, is the type to get tattoos on a whim, so there's a lot of them, mumbled and jumbled, all fighting for the spotlight. The entirety of his back is sprayed with ink ranging from wild animals, to reptiles, to random objects. The most prominent on his back is a crowned lion sitting on the left side of his shoulder blade. There are scales running along his skin like he'd hoped to be a serpent but instead got molded him into m

Ragnar filled the tub before going to lift her off the bed. They got her in the water, sitting her on Ragnar she was like bathing a ragdoll. Leif washed her body while Ragnar gently did her hair. Completely cleaning her up before taking turns cleaning themselves while the other held her. "Look" Ragnar said pointing at her neck. Their marks on her had healed already, faster than they thought could be possible. A wolf, black as night surrounded by a blue light with a Cresent moon behind it on her right side signifying Ragnar. A gray wolf howling up at a full moon with a lighter blue glow surrounding it with what looked to be a vine going around her collar bone connection the two wolves togethe

“You might even find one of your assailants there too. Half of these men on here are from werewolf pacts.” “Really? Any with tattoos?” Scott pointed to a figure in the middle. Raven moved closer to look, large, gray hair, beady little eyes. “That’s Leo Rambert, he has a wolf tattoo with a moon on his wrist. The image of that night flashed in Raven’s mind, hand resting on the ground next to her head, tattoo clear, as he pushed into her deeply, ‘you like that, don’t you baby?’ Raven snatched the photo down, “When do I need to be ready?”

He has a full sleeve bear tattoo inked on his right shoulder that continues till his right hand and connects to it climbing a tree to chest inked on his right shoulder. I wander why he chose a bear. The rest of his chest is covered in a red dragon blowing fire, it has complicated black outlines. It's gorgeous. I take a stand and inch closer to Roman. My fingers trace the patterns and swirls of the dragon. It's a much different style as compared to the others and unique. I wonder why he got it? I meet his gaze. "It's a Waborri tattoo.The Japanese see dragons as benefactors and protectors of mankind. Dragon tattoos symbolise bravery, wisdom, and strength. Black dragons are associated with expe

My eyes caught the Jaguar tattoo on his back as he turned to pick up his machete. Jaguar tattoo means only one thing, the Bratva has different gangs and they have symbols to differentiate themselves, if it were a Volk then it would be a Black Mamba but if it's a Jaguar that means it's... How? Did he know I was coming? There was another loud creak indicating that someone was coming, I swallowed a hard lump in my throat as I watched like an idiot as three men walked in. Now I see it, they all have those Russian features, including the machete guy.

Meanwhile outside, Loki mind-linked the warriors, keeping them positioned along the walls, watching the tree line as the scent of rogues thickened again in the rain. "They’re regrouping", Loki linked to Luca. "Let them", Luca linked back, his eyes flicking toward where Ragnar sat with Raven. Ragnar laid his hand over Raven’s wound, ignoring the smoke that rose as the wolfsbane burned. The storm inside him reached for her, the bond pulling energy between them. “Stay with me,” he whispered, closing his eyes as the lightning flared, the energy sinking into her. Raven’s breath hitched, her eyes closing, but her hand tightened around his.

I blush realizing he is talking about my mark from Freya, as Osric pats my back with a nod. “It’s good to see you and Liliana happy with Freya, she is good for you two,” Osric softly speaks as he rocks Roan, pouring himself some whiskey. “It’s good to feel the bond being so complete, I can’t imagine how you and Embry dealt with not having Raven at first, and missing Jonathan. What is Raven getting tattooed?” I question while downing my tumbler of whiskey, and Osric smirks. “It was hard being patient and waiting for them, but it is always worth the wait. She is getting a red raven done out of Viking knots in honor of our victory against Orin,” Osric answers, making me nod as it sounds like a

That voice. Low, rich, and cold enough to slice flesh. She turned, slowly, knowing what she’d see before she even saw it. There, standing atop a rock, silhouetted against the moon like the harbinger of death, was him. Ragnar. His obsidian armor glinted faintly, wet from the rain, blood smeared on one of his gloves. His eyes glowed golden, a dangerous, hungry light that pierced right through her. He looked like a beast risen from hell.

My home burned behind us, but my spirit refused to break. Three figures stood out among the crew, their presence commanding the very air around them. Jarl Ragnar Bloodaxe, the leader, was a giant of a man with braided blond hair, a beard woven with silver rings, and eyes the color of storm-tossed seas. His muscular frame, covered in furs and leather, bore the scars of countless battles. Beside him stood his brother, Thorsten the Stormcaller, leaner but no less imposing, with wild red hair and tattoos of ravens covering his arms—marks of his connection to the gods. And then there was young Bjorn Ironfist, the jarl’s closest shield-brother, with sharp features, dark hair, and a body honed like

He beckoned me over. I walked to the corpse of the assassin, the one with the poison spear. Drax was holding the rogue's arm up. He had ripped the tattered sleeve away to reveal the forearm. There, branded into the greyish skin, was a tattoo. It was a black circle with a jagged red lightning bolt cutting through it. "I know this mark," Drax said, his voice grim. "It’s the sigil of the Iron Hounds. Malakar’s elite guard from the old wars."