Porcelain Doll Aesthetic Novels & Stories

The doll was custom made and had a face that was exact replica of Mahira’s face. Mahira somehow managed to look at the doll’s face, to her horror it was indeed a replica of herself in a belly dance costume, only this costume was more skimpy, 'was this some kind of joke?, was this really Tazz’s idea or Sonia’s?,’ she was flabbergasted , the face of the doll was indeed that of hers, she just realised how this ugly guy had just squeezed the doll’s breast, it was equivalent to have done it to her. She thought she’d had enough. “Mr. Goldwyn, you may please carry on with your celebrations, I have another official assignment to deal with,” saying so she turned to leave

As long as the man didn’t become a troublemaker who constantly provoked Aceli into pouting in annoyance. One corner of Pandora’s mouth turned up at the thought. She quickly adjusted the knitted hat on Aceli’s head that was slipping to the left. “Now it’s your turn,” Pandora said, giving Aceli the chance to assemble a wooden doll on her own or whatever shape the little girl thought she could manage. Wild imagination. Pandora wanted to see Aceli’s sensory motor skills at work. Every now and then she’d gently touch the cheek that had slipped forward. Stroking it softly while waiting for Aceli’s creation to be finished.

My barely-there black sequin dress caught the light of the disco ball. My makeup was sharp and aggressive: blood-red lips and smoky, winged eyeliner that formed a seductive cat-eye. I imagined Rocco's frown, the disgusted look in his eyes he'd give me before telling me to go back and change. But this was the real me, Rosalie Thorne, the Thorn Principessa, who never had to dull her edges for anyone. Just like now. Julian had booked us the prime circular booth in the center of the club. Across from me, a male model, barely twenty, was blushing as he stared at my collarbone.

With such carefulness, the girl thought that she was a porcelain doll that had just come out of a furnace. Lan Li had never seen Mo Feitong so concerned about anyone, but she seemed to have noticed something wrong with this woman. The porcelain dolls she made were more lively than her. "Who is she?" Lan Li could not help but ask curiously. Mo Feitong closed the car door, pulled Jessica forward, and said, "This is the porcelain workshop, which specializes in making porcelain. You are here in my friend's place. No one can find you." Lan Li watched Mo Feitong introduce the woman on her territory.

" Witches that are able to bring back the death by baking a body made out of herbs and the bones of the dead person. The soul would be forced back into the body and would require the souls of the death to continue living. Exhibit A, for example. " V7 says as he points at me. Sango and Kagome both give me a shocked look. " *Sighs* Why did you have to point me out? You traitor brat!" I sighed. " They would have noticed sooner or later, I mean you look like a porcelain doll!" " I am not!" " Yeah, but it doesn't change the fact that you look like one! Your armor isn't even covering your neck! It looks exactly like the neck of a doll! The joins stick out when you look up!"

It seemed like this kind of thing happened occasionally, and some of the older girls still had childish hearts. "Sir, this one, and this one, and the crystal series on the shelf over there, they are all new this year and are all very popular. Your wife should like them." The saleslady pointed to a few of the most popular styles at the moment. Of course, they were all very expensive. Blake's gaze swept across the shelves one by one and finally landed on a Barbie doll. Unlike the others, this Barbie doll had black eyes, extremely similar to Avery's clear eyes.

Crackers, maybe? Heart pounding, I peeled the velvet back. Underneath: a few chunks of hardtack and half a protein bar. I froze. Stared at the girl on the bed, still playing dead. She was faking. But why? What was she trying to pull? Did Ms. Deinert know? I looked at her perfect, peaceful face—and felt pure horror. She wasn't some helpless victim. She was a monster.

But I didn’t move. Dolls don’t beg. That night, he fucked me bent over his antique chaise, calling me “his porcelain girl” as he thrust deep and slow, one hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping the corset like reins. I came three times. He didn’t let himself finish until I collapsed. Then came the final gift: the mask. Delicate. Hand crafted. White porcelain with long lashes, pink cheeks, and lips parted in a permanent gasp. He held it to my face and whispered

That goes twice for you Iridessa…For like I was so is she, Anything, but Porcelain”~ Elleanna’s voice wrapped around them for a final time as a small breeze floated past them all. -end-

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.