Margaery Hair Novels & Stories

“Wow. Just wow. Calm Alpha Jaron. Understanding Alpha Jaron. Are we in the same universe? Did someone hit him on the head?” I laughed quietly, covering my face with my hand. “Stop it.” “No because really,” she insisted, leaning forward again. “What happened? Did he eat a magical herb? Did a fairy bless him? Did he get possessed by a nice spirit?” I bit my lip, debating whether to say the rest, but Marga was already staring at me like she could read my mind. Marga narrowed her eyes even more, leaning in so close her nose almost touched mine. “Oh my god,” she whispered accusingly. “There’s more. Spill it.”

The only difference was their hairs and eye color. Mera had a long curly brown hair and olive green eyes. She is the least mature of the three. She always make trouble and leave it to the the others to clean up whatever trouble she had made. Hana had a hair that was stuck in between straight and curly. Her hair was neither straight nor curly. She has a beautiful pair of Hazel eyes and her teeth were a bit opened, making her look cute whenever she smiles. She was the mother hen of the trio and always made sure that they were all right. She is a bit reserved but can be intimidating when needed.

Not even the best restaurant back at Castings matches up to this one right here. "You're beautiful..." Charles says for the millionth time this night and I just smile at him. The dress I'm wearing is the gift I got from my dad. A red gown that hugs my skin and curves perfectly. It's also the same bright red color as my hair. And the shoes I'm wearing are light brown heels from my mom, the shoes match my eyes perfectly. I tied my hair up in a high pony tail and applied only mascara and lip gloss. Never really been a fan of heavy make up.

She was blue and scaly in a way that reminded me of a mermaid, but instead of a fishtail, she had a tail reminiscent of a snake's. Long, slippery looking, and tapering down to a thin point. It coiled around her petite form as she continued to lament, pushing haggard locks of her red hair away from her ethereally beautiful face. She tucked another lock behind her ear then paused, staring down at her hair glumly. "Just take look at my hair, only the commoners in the kingdom had hair like this. If Imogen could see me now..." She stopped and seemed to instantly suck herself away from an impending gloom, then she focused on me steadily. "And what about you, er..."

She's already feeling comfortable when a maid's voice spoke in front of her. "Your Highness, we still have to do your hair." Morrigan sighed and stood up from the sofa. Although she reject the idea of attending a ball two days after she went back of the kingdom, she couldn't appeal against it for it was insisted by the ministers to finally letting the world know she is back. If she was still the same playful princess in the past she would have just asked for a leave and let her be alone for the night as she prefers to play inside her room than attending boring and diplomatic parties. And if her royal father insisted she will ask the maids to dress her in her most comfortable yet formal dress

She shot her a deadly look. “You...” She pointed at the terrified Margaret. “How dare you!” With rage, she attacked Margaret. “How dare you!” she screamed, pulling her hair. Margaret yelped in pain, her eyes wide with fear as she tried to shield herself. She desperately clawed at the hands pulling her hair, her heart pounding frantically in her chest. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded for mercy.

Her short hair has been open and messy. Blossom smiled and walked towards the bed sitting on the edge of it. "Open that bag on the table, it has a Blue Ribbon and a comb inside it, bring it to me," Megara ordered and she did as instructed. She forwards the comb and Blue Ribbon to Megara. Megara grabbed it from her hand and told her to turn around. As the little one turned around, Megara took the comb between her thin and long fingers and began to comb the little one's hair.

Margo’s dark brown hair was loosely knotted up on the top of her head with ringlets coming down around her face. She had decided to go a minimalist way with a large sweater hanging off of one shoulder to make it very obvious to the man that her father had chosen for her that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. Her tights left very little to the imagination and her curves were only barely concealed by the loose, soft fabric of the sweater as it moved freely over her.

End of pov -**- Around an hour and a half onwards, when the sky was already dark, Margie with a maroon blue t-shirt combined with white baggy jeans stared at her reflection as she tied her dark brown hair with a band on her fist. The reason of doing so was her plan to stroll around the mansion areas because she wanted to be familiar with the pack she stayed in. While she got out from her room, as she went down the stairs, Bastian sitting on the living room at the first floor inquired, "Where are you going, Margie?"

Margo is just encouraging it. “Emma, I merely meant that you do seem a little severe and uptight when your hair’s back. I know that’s ironic, considering how I look, but you’re young and pretty. You’ve a natural beauty that you shouldn’t hide. It doesn’t make you look incapable.” She’s gushing all over me. “I look like a child like this.” My temper is fraying, only too aware how young having my hair loose makes me look. “Well, doing that, you do!” Margo yanks my hair from my fingers and I flush, realizing I have been tugging at a strand under the scrutiny of two overbearing women. Annoyed and slightly embarrassed at being caught unawares.