Monster High Aesthetic Novels & Stories

I was literally tiny next to him. His facial structures were so perfect, I have never seen such perfection before! Jaw line so sharp that I bet it could give me a cut. His eyes were a fiery shade of gold, but somehow so bright and beautiful. Jet black neatly styled undercut hair, and a smooth olive skin tone. I hate myself for recognizing a monsters beauty, he probably just sees me as his next victim.

His features, hewn into marble, devoid entirely of any imperfections or even creases - as if he has lived his entire life, without once expressing a single expression on that impassive face. As if he has lived his entire life, without having once experienced an emotion. And yet, somehow, I cannot find it in myself to call this man a monster. And far from horrifying in appearance, as I had expected. He is, I dare to say it - hauntingly handsome. He is not what I had expected at all. Alpha Mattel was dangerous, alright but his beauty was austere and sinister that handsome was too mild a word. He stopped at the sight of me as he moved his hair backward, my fear not stopping me from looking into

"And aren't you supposed to be in your game right now?" "The monster is a massive and fearsome creature with thick, scaly skin that is nearly impenetrable. Its body is covered in spines and horns, and its massive jaws are filled with razor-sharp teeth. Its eyes are red and glowing, and they seem to gleam with fierce intelligence. Its limbs are thick and muscular, capable of crushing bones with ease. And when it moves, it does so with an almost unnatural grace, its massive bulk seeming to glide effortlessly through the forest."

And then, the monsters breached the mist. They were horrifying. They were massive, grey-skinned abominations, their muscles bulging with sickening, unnatural proportions. Their chaotic, glowing purple eyes burned with mindless, explosive rage. To Mwajuma, they were the ultimate manifestation of the toxic, violent male spirit—beasts that existed only to destroy the beauty of the world.

I spot Kaine rushing at it and groan in frustration. "So proud," I mutter when the monster flings him away like a rag doll. I cringe as he hits the ground hard, sighing when he slowly sits up. He looks around, his body swaying a little. I turn my attention back to the monster. My lips curls upward in disgust. It stands dozens of meters tall, its chest glowing red with each rattling breath. It has four legs and at least a dozen eyes that move separately. I jog over to the warriors, about to ask why they are keeping their distance when a tail suddenly slams to the ground in front of us. I leap back with a curse, my eyes flying wide.

Their eyes met, and finally the silence broke between them. "What is it you want to say?" Mark asked gently, his gaze sincere, making Julie swallow hard as she remembered her current situation—single, with her partner in prison. If Liam truly was the perpetrator, then there was no hope for her future with him. The look that Mark had, which was directed at Julie, immediately made the girl forget that she promised Liam to fix everything. "Elizah keeps screaming hysterically whenever she hears or mentions the word 'monsters.' I take it that 'monsters' is plural, meaning more than one person committed this crime against her," Julie said, her voice calmer than before.

“What are you thinking for the stormy aesthetic?” Harper asked curiously, holding up the deep winter swatches which include the colours: midnight, olive, expresso, silver, grey, charcoal, mocha, wine, brick red, ruby, Boysen berry, fuschia, magenta, mustard, honey, Ocea, dark green, forest, jungle, royal purple, mulberry, purple, royal blue, Aegean, and ceru lean. Knox snatched the swatches from her hand, spreading them across the desk like he was dealing a winning hand in a high-stakes game. His parrot green eyes darted over then, his lips moving silently as he processed each colour. “Stormy aesthetic,” he repeated, tasting the words. "Aye, it's got tae feel heavy. Atmospheric. No' just dar

His hand lifted, hovered just inches from the handle. If he turned it , if he stepped inside there’d be no undoing it. Not this time. He could finish what they started. Bury himself so deep inside that mouth, inside that want, that for a few hours, he wouldn’t have to think about betrayal and bloodlines and wedding vows. He could forget. But the thing about monsters was they followed you, even after the lights went out. And Rafael already knew, no matter how hard he tried to kill this thing between them, it wouldn’t stay buried.

Dead with no traces of emotion. I was lost in examining his perfectly chiseled face, and emerald green eyes that were almost a replica of mine. Why was he so fine? Monsters are supposed to be ugly and scary to look upon. The most dangerous of monsters are the handsome ones. You won't believe the evil things they do. "Are you cursed to stare?" I was jerked off my thoughts by his stern voice and that was when I noticed what he stretched out to me. It looked rectangular and-- was that an ID?

That was precisely what he did. ‘This place looks nice. It’s designed to make the customers feel comfortable, but also intimidate them.’ The designs that filled the room told of this establishment’s incredible wealth. Anyone who wasn’t worth their salt would feel very uncomfortable and intimidated if they stayed here for too long. ‘This won’t work on me, though…’ The thought of his stash of Monster Cores hidden in the Hobgoblin hideout brought a smile to his face. With so much potential money in his grasp, there was no way he would allow these people to frighten him.