Emily Corpse Bride Aesthetic Novels & Stories

We couldn't abandon her. Tom, always gentle and considerate, agreed. At the military compound, after settling my sister, Tom took me to meet his mother. Mrs. Quinn was a former army performer, beautiful and elegant. She didn't even look at me, speaking only to Tom. "Tom, now that you're in college, you can divorce the wife you had to marry during your time in the countryside. Everyone's getting divorced these days. Your Uncle James's daughter, Emily, also got into college. I think she'd make a better daughter-in-law for our family."

That had made her taste turned sour in my mouth. She walked slowly to sit beside me and she nailed curled on my shirt. They were neat and black; I would have liked them if there wasn’t another image of black nails with purple edges in my head. I wasn’t taking sides, but Emily rocked black better. The image of her in our wedding dress rose again in my head, her hair, and nails. Those beautiful eyes. I couldn’t help wanting more of her taste as the memory of her tiny tongue worked its way into my head.

I spat, strands of my hair sticking to my damp cheek. I grabbed the back of Emma’s neck, not hard, just enough to get her attention. “Look at him!” I shouted, forcing her to look at the waxen corpse . The old man inside was perfectly arranged, a parody of peace. I let the back of her neck go. “That’s how Elijah seesyou, Just a pretty thing to be presented to me, Another simple Expensive, arrangement” My cock already fully hard, thick and demanding to be buried in her core. . “Your Just another warm body that I paid to rut and drink from, while he looks the other way, counting every dime that burns in his check book” “Go to hell you bastard”

The air was crisp, carrying the soft scent of early spring. Emily stood before the mirror in the guest bedroom of the Blackwood estate, smoothing her hands over the dress. It fit like a dream. Perfectly tailored, hugging her waist, flowing effortlessly as if it had been made for her and only her. She turned slightly, studying her reflection. No veil. No extravagant bridal jewelry. Just this dress, simple heels, and the faintest trace of natural makeup. She looked… Like herself.

Lace, she told anyone who would listen, was a necessity. Ne-ces-si-ty. Oxygen was almost as important. Marie on the other hand, preferred simple things. She was enthralled by her Aunt Bridget and her goth look. Allison advised her new daughter to prepare herself for a skull phase. Before anyone could stop her, Emily had already picked out three silks, two velvets and a gold brocade. All in various shades of pink. Electra was certain that she could get a bottle of Pepto-Bismol and Emily would love it.

“Emily, where have you been? What exactly is going on with you? You look-“ “Different?” she completed. I nodded. She gave me a small smile. “I know. I chopped off my hair and dyed it because I needed a change. I’ve been blonde for a hundred and nine years so I figured why not do something else for a change?” she closed her momologue with a shrug, and I nodded slowly, not quite believing her. It doesn’t explain why she looked like death’s bride and smelt like it too. This was not the Emily that left the castle. Her aura was certainly different. It was…darker. I pushed those insinuations aside and asked her generic questions.

I screamed as the firelight drenched them, revealing transparent skeletons instead of their elegant silhouettes, dressed in tattered shrouds like grave-bound corpses. Without warning, Corpseboy grabbed an apple and shoved it into my mouth. I bit down reflexively. As its juices drenched my mouth, the skeletons became flesh, their rags turning into clothes. I was confronted by a whole retinue of noble-looking men and women dressed in elegant gowns and old-fashioned suits, eying me with disdain. Corpseboy, oblivious to their disapproval, grinned widely. “See, Callie? Nothing to be afraid of. Now come along or the tea will grow cold.” “They're dead,” I whispered in horror.

*Emily* I treat my makeup like facial jewelry. Playing with shapes, colors, and structures changes me from the inside out. Considering that I am naturally attractive, I don't need much of it, but today is going to be the best day of my life. I have taken out my black silk gown, with a lace hemming. The neckline is quite low, and the bodice so tight that it will push my breasts high and make for the most alluring cleavage. I should ask Tara to have it steam-pressed so it’s ready for the ‘sad’ theme that’s going to unfold soon enough.

"Are you still with us, or did you mentally skip ahead to the bedroom already?" Emily felt her cheeks flush. "Shut up," she muttered, but couldn't hide her grin. "I'm just... considering the possibilities." "Uh-huh," Sophia smirked. "Well, while you're 'considering', check this out." She held up a midnight blue corset with delicate silver embroidery. "Classy, but still sexy as hell." Emily's breath caught. "Oh, that's gorgeous." She chewed her lip, indecision warring within her. "Think I should get both?"

The style was elegant and cute, making Emily look even more attractive. It was a simple outfit, but on Emily, it looked like haute couture. Emily had her hair in a braid over one shoulder and wore flat white shoes, looking both classical and noble. "Grace, is this outfit okay?" Grace's face darkened, but Logan was delighted: "It's beautiful. This is exactly the style the elders like. Grace, what do you think?" Emily's eyes followed Logan's gaze, watching Grace's expression. Grace couldn't find another excuse. She resented Emily for being too beautiful. Whatever she wore looked great; what could she do?