Record Of Ragnarok Fanfiction の小説・ストーリー

I wanted her. Ragnar came to a sudden stop, his eyes locking on Soren, my beta. Soren’s face was flushed, sweat glistening as he ran toward us, panic written all over him. Ragnar shifted into me immediately. Soren dropped onto his knees in front of me, trying to catch his breath. “Someone better be dying,” Ragnar growled angrily in my head. “Speak!” I ordered impatiently as I wanted to return to Nyx. “Your…your highness…” he continued, breath stuck in his throat.

"Yeah, I don't know how I didn't make the connections earlier, my grandma used to tell me a story at bed time and thinking about what you have said it is similar" "Oh ok" Mum started reading aloud to me from the book. "Ragnarok is a battle at the end of the world. It is to be fought between the gods or aesir, lead by Odin the all father, and the dire giants the jotnar and other monsters, led by Loki and surtr. Not only will most of the gods, giants, and monsters die in this battle, but almost everyone in the universe will be destroyed.

Then he looked at me, with a mask that I thought I was beginning to understand. “I, Ragnar Vargbane, reject you, Freya Asher as my mate and Luna” Eliza screamed. She howled against my ribcage until I couldn't feel the difference between her pain and mine. “Ragnar," Sera’s voice rose behind me. “What have you…” "You don't have to do this,” I said, my voice barely audible. "Whatever the reason is. Whatever you are afraid of. You don't have to do this here, in front of all of them. You could have…”

Roran was a businessman, as well as a partner, executive and shareholder of one of the companies affiliated with Delphos, they were childhood friends of Ragnar Delphos, albeit one of the men who married before the destined man himself. So, Roran invited Rebekah to attend an associates' party with him introducing Ragnar. - This is my friend, Ragnar Delphos. Roran said . - Oh... - Loki approached, grabbing Ragnar by the waist, hugging him with a kiss. - I saw that he has good taste, he doesn't get the same women as you . - Loki said. - It's what you think, we have the same tastes in women. Ragnar said. - A queen. – Loki said, taking the woman's hands and kissing them. – What a beauty.

The black-haired Norseman who favoured his mother in colouring, except for his pale blue eyes, let out an oath and plucked at his sheepskin which was already displaying signs of wear and tear. “It seems I cannot even make a jest in your presence now, Ketil,” he complained. He found himself apologising to the one who had been complicit in the taking away of his birth right. “What happened to your sweetheart?” he asked. “Freya.” That said it all. He decided not to enquire further. Ragnar would either elaborate or he wouldn’t, though it didn’t sound as if she had burned in a fire. Perhaps that also explained why he was unwed, like Sigurd, though younger, of course, at twenty-two.

“Then make me understand, because I don’t know the heads or tails of what’s making you act like this. You said it yourself—you’ve been acting off recently, so believe me, I know.” She hugged Ragnar from behind, pressing her chest against his back. If that could do anything to change his mind. “Sorry, Blaire, but this is something I need to do. If not, she’ll end up being less of a mate and more like meat for predators.” “Mate?” Blaire asked, surprised. “Less than a maid,” Ragnar corrected quickly, but Blaire’s eyes darkened. “It’ll make sense eventually,” Ragnar said before walking out of the office. Blaire watched him go.