Doll Fanart Novels & Stories

He leans in, breath foul. “I’m going to start with your fingers. One knuckle at a time. Slowly. So you can count them as they come off. Then your wrists. Then I’ll peel the skin from your arms in perfect strips, like the way you peel off the petals from a flower. You’ll sing for me long before I reach your shoulders.” He paints every atrocity in exquisite detail—flaying, branding, breaking bones and letting them knit wrong just to break them again. He laughs at the pitch my screams will reach when the silver finally kisses marrow.

What matters is not the circle of friends, but the content in the circle of friends. A piece of her drama makeup with a dusty face, pointing at the camera hysterically. And Ethan Wharton also wrote: little fool, my family. He's the fool. He's a big fool, two fools and three fools. Then, however, two people is one leng. Ethan Wharton changed her avatar. The avatar is a Q version of the picture, which shows her in this picture. There is also an outrageous bubble on it, which says: Don't you dare to shoot.

And then I found the word, bold and clear, right there in the title. Doll. I looked up at him. He was watching me, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Something that looked like satisfaction. “I want you to be my Doll,” he said. Mia made a sound behind me, a sharp intake of breath, but I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I was standing in my doorway, holding a contract that said I was his, and the man who’d been following me for two weeks was waiting for me to sign it.

At our class reunion, my so-called best friend, Shannon Drew, pulled out a box stuffed with folded notes. A line was taped across the top— [Draw one of Mia Martinez's hopeless-romantic quotes.] The room burst out laughing. Someone pulled a love letter I'd written to Damien Byford senior year. "Damien smiled at me today. I want to give him all my tomorrows, too." Someone else grabbed one from college. "It's okay if he doesn't text back. He'll think of me when he's not busy." Damien had never replied to a single letter. I'd always figured he'd tossed them years ago. Then Shannon drew letter No. 99. Leaning against Damien, she laughed as she read, "If you ever decide you don't want m

So much more important than thread and stuffing and glass eyes, wrapped in a half-torn dress. I still feel bad about that doll. The one I saved from a hooker name. A doll I carried around with me for years, and now remember only in flashes. Bare, bright impressions, like seeing something through burned retinas. Seared over everything in a glowing silhouette. The same as Loki. I barely met Loki, but when I remember him it’s with a sick stirring so deep and violent it’s like there’s a clawed hand rammed down my throat. Churning my guts around. Turning my insides into so much fine flesh confetti.

Chapter 44 Marked WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS (GORE, SEXUAL, SUICIDAL, DANGEROUS, EXPLICIT) SCENES AND WORDS NOT SUITABLE FOR PEOPLE BELOW 18 YEARS OLD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISKS! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! She was Zane Fangs, the daughter of the Alpha of Dusk Dawn Pack, 21 years old. But she was also Zinnia, Nicholas Wyatt’s woman. The very same man who she just discovered was her mate. But he is just a simple human, he might get hurt and may not be able to understand her origin.