Emily Corpse Bride Aesthetic Novels & Stories

*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?

And her breasts were pushed against the corset that she wore, almost slipped through her bodice, and be on display for his personal view. "If you keep looking at me like that, my lord, I'm afraid that we will never get off the carriage to see the scenery," Emily said as she noticed that Ian was looking at her bodice. Ian chuckled as he knew that his wife was perspective and he loved every second of that trait.

“The color matches her skin tone perfectly.” “Any color and fabric you fancy?” Cora asked Emily. “I love this, it is beautiful, perhaps a couple of nightgowns for Prince Deacon’s pressure?” Emily asked, and looked over at Prince Deacon, making sure he understood her intentions to keep her pretty head on her shoulders.

That's it, that's all he wants, not a weak supply of blood or something. I shook my head and took the bold step. "No, I'll do it, I'll be your bride in exchange for my freedom ." I don't know what to think, I can't die, but then I would have to marry him, then again I'll do anything for my life including marrying him. He took my hand from his friend's and dragged me away back to the mansion, his hand is as cold as ice, great am getting married to a corpse.

It wasn't a style which was popular nor accepted, Yet, she had done It anyway. Her husband's eyes lingered there and were now resting on her peach gown which hugged her every frame dipping at the waist and then floating down. The bodice of her gown scandalously low. Emily felt her gown represented her new feeling, her new way of saying she knew her mind, not a woman limited by expectations, thoughts, and people's opinion.

I covered my face, while laughing helplessly. My life changed so quickly. And the craziest part is I was getting used to it immediately. ** That evening, Adrain picked me up again. The moment I entered his car, his eyes were moving all over me. I was wearing one of the dresses he bought for me. Dark red, simple but expensive gown. “You’re staring at me,” I teased softly. “You’re beautiful,” he replied immediately. And the answer came so naturally. “Stop flattering me.” “I’m not flattering you,”

I spotted her almost instantly near the brick archway of the quad. Even from a distance, Emma was a vision of curated, dangerous beauty. She was wearing a tiny, ribbed crop top that barely brushed the base of her ribs, leaving a tantalizing expanse of porcelain skin exposed. Her skirt was a whisper of fabric, so short it was essentially a provocation. I found myself lingering on the sight of her—the way her legs were long, straight, and incredibly smooth, looking like marble statues catching the first sharp rays of the morning light. There was a lethal elegance to the way she stood, a reminder that she was a Blackwood through and through; we were built to be worshipped even as we rotted from

One could say that his face was a masterpiece carved by God, capable of driving any woman insane. As he gazed at the delicate wine glass in his hand, his movements were graceful and noble, akin to that of an emperor. "No need to be nervous!" Isaac hastily waved his hand, after all, he was Oliver's brother-in-law. Oliver lit a cigar and caught a glimpse of the screen out of the corner of his eye. The bride was facing the priest, her figure slim and alluring, radiating an indescribable beauty while wearing the floral wedding gown designed by Master Milan. Her tall and well-proportioned physique, slender and fair arms exposed in the air, and her perfectly elongated neck all left a lasting impre