Hope Mikaelson Aesthetic Novels & Stories

“After everything I’ve done? After who I am? Why do you all keep treating me with kindness? Why don't you try and kill me or try and end me? Put me in place? You, Damon, Sienna…. Why? I don't deserve any of this. Certainly not from you.” Kael looked at me, and there was something in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in anyone’s but Nikolai’s. Understanding. “Because grief doesn’t care about bloodlines,” he said. “And neither does sacrifice. Whatever darkness you came from… it doesn’t define you. It doesn’t define him either. What defines you is what you become, your choices that you made. And I can see now that you are doing your best to make the right ones. You were broken and he made sure to bre

My smile, though, still pure trouble. “Oh, I look dangerous,” I said, tilting my head and admiring myself. “Kael, you should be worried. I’m the pretty one now.” Kael rolled his eyes, but even he studied his reflection when Thessaly’s magic reshaped him, he had a broader nose, golden brown hair, darker skin, and eyes like storm clouds. He looked like someone who could kill you with one hand while drinking coffee with the other. “Perfect,” I said. “Now we just need fake names.”

She looked confused, but she still tried to give a sweet smile—looking sensual and beautiful. If Mikael was still his old self, then he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to spend a pleasant night with a woman as beautiful as Miranda. She had beautiful eyes, a sensual smile and seductive lips. Mikael was already touching her breasts—something he'd always loved to touch in a woman's body. However, he realized that these breasts were not formed in a natural way, but through plastic surgery and breast implants, just like the other actresses. And… recently Mikael has been touching the breasts of a woman who never made any changes to her breasts. A pair of soft breasts that weren't too big, but felt

I turned around and pressed my back against the cold steel door, ready to fight whatever horror was waiting for me in the darkness. Footsteps approached, unhurried, rhythmic, and terrifyingly calm. The white cloud of flour slowly settled from the air, revealing Mikael standing at the end of the narrow hallway. He looked completely absurd, yet infinitely more dangerous. Fine white powder coated his dark wool coat and dusted his broad shoulders, framing his stark, angular features like a statue carved from marble and ash. But his ice-grey eyes were clear, burning with a dark, intense amusement that made my blood run cold.

I really want to make him disappear, and I know that Ty feels the same way. They walk over to our table, and every step she takes has me mesmerized. “I told you that I hate when you call me Mikky.” Aston throws his head back and laughs. “I’m Mikayla.” As she looks around the table, her name settles into my bones, and my body vibrates in satisfaction. “Alpha Mikayla Davis.” Just like that, my body numbs. She’s an Alpha, and I’m simply a Gamma. There’s no way she’s going to want me.

Shame and fear warred within her, but survival left her no choice. Finally, she nodded, her voice barely audible. “Okay. I’ll do it.” Zac stepped closer, crossing his arms. “Good. But first, we start with transparency. Take off the wig, the contact lenses—everything unnatural about you, right now.” Reluctantly, Mia removed the wig and lenses, revealing her natural brown hair and striking green eyes. Zac’s breath caught at the sight of her beauty, but his expression quickly hardened. “There,” he muttered. “Now I know who I’m dealing with. From now on, no more lies. Understand?”

“Berenice is here.” I’m certain Benny didn’t tell anyone about us. If she did, I wouldn’t be standing here, breathing and dreading seeing her again. I’d be six feet under, or worse, burning in the hellfire of his father or Klaus’ anger. “How is she?” The question was out of my lips before I realized it. Markus kept his eyes on Mikael, his large hand ready to catch the child as he slowly took a sitting position. Mikael is the little version of Klaus, green eyes and dark curls, and also inherited his grumpy mood. He started grunting when he couldn’t get a hold of the biggest owl dangling from the center of the overhead gym.

So I take what I can, in other ways. Not from her. Not yet. Maela is loyal. Dutiful. She understands the nature of demons, she is one. The weight of our hungers, the price of our patience. She does not question when I call for her. Does not resist when I weave illusion over her form. Glamour is a simple thing. A trick of light and perception. A mask that convinces the senses of a lie they want to believe. For a moment, in the low light of fire and shadow, the shape of her becomes something else. Pale hair where dark once fell. Soft curves where sharper lines should be. A silhouette my mind has grown accustomed to watching move through these halls.

No. Alexei Mikhalov was as perfect as they come. He was golden. Alexei was blond, tall, his face perfectly symmetrical, with cheekbones that’d give supermodels a run for their money. He stepped into the only light illuminating the port and I was bit by the beauty of his eyes. They sparkled like emeralds, glinting with malevolent delight. His heart shaped lips were curled into a chilling smile, sending shudders down my spine. Alexei Mikhalov looked like an angel, literally.

Being semi-famous is annoying sometimes. I also have no desire to make out with Hunter anymore. Hunter is part of my Model Perfect image, we are a package deal. It's unfortunate for me, that Aftershock has a partnership with Model Perfect. We are the 'it couple' and if there is a slip up the partnership is over. Would that be such a bad thing?