Hunter X Hunter Aesthetic Novels & Stories

My eyes opened, and the first thing I laid my eyes on was a pair of eyes. Hunter-shaped. They were covered, but I most definitely knew the colors behind them. Dark green. They were so dark that they could be black when he was pissed. Paired with his black hair, he was dangerously handsome. The kind you wouldn't want to come close to. With one look, Knox had me melting. He could compel me. I thought for a moment. Could he compel like some vampires? Well, he was only part vampire. Don't tell me it's just the blood aspect he got from his vampire side?

Karen said, taking a pair of heels, my handbag and handing them to me. I thanked the girl and hurried down the stairs. Hunter stood at the foyer in a gray custom suit that pressed perfectly over his fit physique and glared at his watch. His thick, long lashes casted a shadow over his high cheekbones. He looked out-of-the-world gorgeous, so much it should have been illegal. He could manipulate anyone simply with his looks without even uttering a single word.

Very confused and a bit concerned she had lost her mind I continued questioning her, “What do you mean your a hybrid? How can you be? My dad was a Hunter and Hunters are human. It doesn’t make any sense!” Elly explained, “Think about it. Yes Hunter’s are generally considered human but that isn’t really the case. They are stronger, more agile and faster than humans. They attribute this to their training but in reality it is their every blood that allows it.” “How do you know all this?” I asked. “Because inner beasts are intrinsically born knowing who and what they are. The Moon Goddess herself bestows this information to us.” “Okay than what are we? Obviously we are werewolves but what truly

"How...?" I chew on the inside of my cheek, at a loss for words. I'll just have to tweak her memory later. For now, I turn my attention to the Hunters or WVH, as Winter calls them. They advance with unhurried steps, dressed to kill—literally. Their sleek, charcoal gray outfits hug their muscular bodies like a second skin, while dark grey armor plates enhance their silhouette, covering all the important bits like chest, back, shoulders, forearms, and shins. Their utility belts, laden with pouches and holsters, hold an array of weapons and tools that make me gulp.

Then, above it all, she purred in my ear: “So you like to drink blood, do you, hunter?” The way she said hunter reminded me so much of Alice, of being closed in, locked in the dark, that bile rose in my throat. I stared up at her, my chest sawing up and down. She smiled, her eyes – a perfect match to that red-gold hair – dancing with delightful, vengeful mischief.

Putting my phone, lipstick, and a pocket knife just in case, I put on some perfume and got out of the room only to be stopped by Hunter, who was standing with his back and one foot on the wall as he continued looking like a Greek God. He looked extremely beautiful with his messy raven locks, bootiful looks, and his short sleeve black tee and black jeans with a simple chain, and a leather jacket on top as he flexed his arm. And there was his damn scent of Sandalwood and Cinnamon, it was so addictive. Show off. “Done staring peaches?” He smirked as he asked me, erupting the butterflies in my fucking belly, making me smirk in return. Twirling a strand of hair on my finger, I walked near him, “A

As she opened her arms wide with a sunshine smile, I felt the urge to rush in and hold her tight. And I did just that. Only then, I saw the breathtaking view behind her. Hunter, in an expensive suit as charming and mysterious as the tuxedo he’d worn at father’s birthday celebration party. Standing in front of the glass wall, with the pale crescent behind him, glowing in the same silver as his handsome mane, he observed the greeting crowd with both hands tucked, as though he owned the realm and nothing is important enough for his slightest attention. Including me. And I couldn’t stop staring, drinking in the sight of that sculpture of masculine beauty and power.

He didn’t bother with modesty or shame. Shifters never did. He looked directly at her—smiled. And Kiera’s stomach dropped. It was the kind of smile that said he’d smelled her fear long before he arrived. “Well,” he drawled, brushing dirt from his palms as if he hadn’t just come from hunting. “The quiet little ghost-girl.” Kiera’s pulse roared in her ears. His scent hit her next—a mixture of pine, blood, and something coldly familiar. Hunter metal. Her fingers curled into fists.

I had only seen Mildred and Garren shift, so this was new. Hunter wasn’t nearly as big as Garren, but he was bigger than Mildred. His scales looked rougher, and he had spikes lining his back along his spine. His talons were longer than the others, and his wings looked like they were tipped with ice shards. “Hunter is the last of his kind,” Mildred said low enough for only me to hear. “He’s beautiful. He looks like he is covered in pieces of ice.” I said in awe. She let out a laugh.

Hunter was clearly not trying to smirk on camera but he couldn't help his ego. A photographer went closer to him to adjust his stance and lower the waist band of the sweatpants to go almost dangerously low. Then the tattoo came into full view. It was a wolf, scratch that.. a cub that looked like it was trying to howl. The cub was actually looked like it was standing on water but the wolf's body was literally on fire. I just noticed the tiny and faint flames that surrounded the little creatures body and for some reason I felt sad. For the wolf though.