Red Hair Shanks Novels & Stories

I preferred my red hair. "Alexander has a type, now let's go before we miss the main event." He said as he took the drink. "A type?" I asked as I looked at myself. I was his type so why wouldn't they make me have red hair. "Yea he has types of Goddesses that he plays with and most have blonde hair." His words had me stiffening as I stared at myself. My yellow eyes made me look magestic and the blonde hair added to my sexual appeal. I hated it. Not to mention it looked like I was taller.

They were easy to remember 'cause of their striking features. Anna had the most vibrant red hair she'd ever seen with a heart face and a nice body and she was very much endowed in the up section. The kind of bust that made ladies green with envy and the kind that made men literally become her slave. Once she had caught Ace staring at her and she wasn't happy at all! Shawn was pretty unique with his striking gold eyes and his excessive piercing. Aside from that he was just like all regular male species__animals not included. Seeing them both together and hearing the word wedding gave her a sense of deju và. She vividly recalled planning Cindy's wedding only to wake up in this universe. Maybe

She sat down comfortably and said, "On Semeria it is rare for a person's eye color not to match their hair color. In this world, most people get their hair color from their elemental affinity. Blue hair, = water, Light blue hair = lightning, Red hair = fire, Brown hair, = earth, green hair = wind, Light green hair = nature, Black hair = shadow, Gray hair, = metal, etc, etc, etc," Verra informed Xasha like a teacher teaching a student.

Madchen shook her long red tresses as she entered the department workroom. Somehow, her dark red hair always had a golden sheen to it, a natural highlight she was born with,along with her striking blue green eyes.Her German-irish heritage shown through with her hair,yet she kept a surprisingly golden skin tone. She checked herself quickly in the bathroom mirror. She had never considered herself on the pretty side. A few freckles dotted the bridge of her delicate nose.

she angled her body slightly to allow the girl to step forwards, "let me introduce you to my daughter, Liane." Liane is even more stunning up close. She has the same kind of golden hair that I do, but her’s is thrown into a mock mohawk on the top filled with tiny braids and backcombing that looks like it took ages. She truly resembles what I would picture a Viking queen looked like. Her whole body was thick with muscle but in a defined and capable, yet dainty, way. Her eyes were an impossibly soft colour of green that was fernlike in nature, and hard to not be drawn into.

Now, however, in my left hand, I hold a hair just plucked from my own scalp: the mousy-brown shade of my current identity. In the right hand, I hold the hair which dropped from my hotel room door as I returned, and which on casual inspection, I had taken to be the one I slicked into place as I left the room earlier. But the right-hand hair is red. And now I look at it, I recognise that shade: a deep burnished copper-auburn that many women aspire to, but few have. But Mitch has it. Jenny too; Could it come from one of them? Probably, yes.

Dropping into clumps which littered the floor and revealing pale pink skin. She gave a whinny that sounded more the cry of a banshee. Her eyes burned into blood red, the pupil vanishing. Spinning her head to look at the king her teeth turned jagged, and her lips seemed to disappear exposing them in a snarl. Catching the king’s shoulder between her teeth she forced them in, hooking him tight. And stabbing nearly to the bone.

A very strange dream! At first, she did not remember the details of that dream clearly. All she could recall was a man hugging a young girl beneath a large cherry blossom tree. The scene resembled a painting. In fact, it was almost like an illusion. So beautiful to behold but also so heart-wrenching to look at. You know. The beautiful "illusion" actually represents a wound. A tragedy... Capable of shattering one's soul and body upon witnessing. That was all she could remember.

And yet, something gnawed at me, something about her felt…off. As I twisted another lock into the towel, I paused. My eyes narrowed. The roots of her hair were Auburn, rich, natural, and shifted halfway into a softer, almost red tone toward the tips. At first, I thought it was the light, the reflection of the colored light playing tricks on me. But no. The contrast was too sharp. I leaned closer, frowning. “Strange…” I muttered under my breath.

But I can see them swallowing hard, trying to avoid my gaze. “Yeah, sure,” one of them mumbles. “It’s, uh... rare.” I can’t hold it anymore. “It’s just hair, you idiots! It ain’t gonna fucking save her when someone’s trying to slit her throat.” “Still, man. It makes her sexy. The red. Fuck, it compliments her round ass as well.” That's it!