Mal Descendants Hairstyles Novels & Stories

"Of all the females within my family, why I'm I the only one punish with this awfully looking hair?" protested Paris, as she held a loose strand of her long, curly, red hair, scornfully, gazing at it with great disappointment. She hated her hair so badly that her heart ached every day to look at herself in her mirror and to touch it. She wished she had another color of hair, instead of her red hair, she considered to look like a white mop utterly stained by blood or red polish. Paris thought nothing of her hair other than unattractive. Sadly, neither of her parents had red hair. Her father had brown hair, and her mother was blonde. She had her father's bright blue eyes though, but sadly that

Framed by delicate lashes, her gaze holds a quiet power, inviting connection and understanding. High cheekbones, sculpted by ancestry, lend regality to her visage. The bridge of her nose, a slender arc, carries the echoes of her lineage. A full, expressive mouth, adorned with a natural gloss, reflects a symphony of emotions waiting to be shared with the world. Adorning her head is a crown of tightly coiled curls, each strand a celebration of individuality. The curls, like spring tendrils, frame her face with an unrivaled natural elegance. It's a testament to the versatility and beauty found in the embrace of her natural hair.

That’s some dedicated shit right there. She’s currently doing Azura’s hair whilst I’m leaving mine open. I don’t have long locks like her, so I’m going to have to make do with my shoulder-length bob. Now that I think about it my hairstyle can pass as an Egyptian look, right? The bangs and the straight black hair. See? I’m channelling my inner Bastet. I cackle at my own thoughts, earning questioning looks from the others.

Jason says. Tarlek takes out a picture and shows us. There is a group of eight kids in it, and you can definitely tell who the triplets are. They all look a lot like Kaleb except for one of the girls. She has Kaleb’s eyes, but her white-blonde hair makes her stand out from the others. “That’s Kalyssa. Her white-blonde hair comes from Reece, Kaleb’s dad, side of the family. I guess it pops up every generation or so. He told us his grandmother was the last one to have that colour hair.” Tarlek explained.

The only pop of dramatic color came from her blood red lipstick. Peach had no doubt conjured some dark magic to get Amberleigh’s hair to actually fucking curl! And not those fake ass barrel curls that were held together by eight million hair pins, no sir these curls were the real thing. My god, they actually even had some spring and bounce to them! Pulled into an elegant updo that allowed them to spill out, not all that unlike spider legs actually.

"Do something about her red hair. It looks wild just like her. Fixed it. Do something about it." The two looked like twins with similarities in the color of their eyes—chocolate brown and their high nose stifled a laugh while mouthing to each other, "Wild as her." But they became serious when King Maxxwell gave them the look. One was a brunette and the other one was a blonde. I fixed my hair in an attempt to remedy the unruly thing. To no avail. King Maxxwell was right. It was wild. "I can do it myself, Your Highness."

I thought momentarily. "She had long kinky hair, eyes were piercing pearly blue with fire in the center, which pierced through the very soul of any she looked straight in the orbs. She loved colors and played with them as much as she wanted which came in the form of flowers. The most noticeable was on her skull. She carried hair of a blast of vibrant colours in Rasta twists, dreads, dependent on her moods complementarily on her head which was never enough space to express the blast within with colours of carefully selected flamboyant petals combined.

I let her do my hair today, she said it wasn't perfect but it felt fucking amazing, light and fluffy. “So, what would you like to do today?” She asks. It isn't the first time that our resemblance is almost shocking. I am the beggar version of Kylie Bray. The damaged end of the stick. Our hair is both black and her eyes though dark brown and mine are black it is similar shape. Except for our noses, mine is sloped, showing my Italian heritage, hers is straight and perfect. “What do you think we should do,” My dry, damaged voice answers with a question of my own.

The woman told me to take a seat and I obeyed her dad who was watching me with narrowed eyes. The dresser was full of Kelsey's photos. What the heck was going on? "I want her to look exactly like my late daughter Kelsey" dad said hoarsely. I gasped in shock. Gwen the hairdresser smiled and grabbed the scissors from the table walking towards me. "No please don't!" Dad held me in place with a warning look in his eyes. It was clear that he was losing his patience. "Her hair should be blonde, short, and wavy. Her eyes should be hazel. I already brought some contacts for her."

"Look up," Malia instructed, yanking on Jenny's hair. Jenny winced, staring at the ceiling as Malia combed through her hair with little care. It had been permed and lightened to a shade between her natural color and the deep brown she adopted for her assignment. Malia sat behind her, harshly brushing without meeting her eyes in the mirror.