Angel Dust Artwork Novels & Stories

He would make it a better place for the unwanted and make a home for himself. Laurent was a stubborn Angel and he would make an even better Fallen.

I was organizing my latest paintings when Asher knocked on my door. "Clara, I have a proposal," his eyes shone with excitement. "Would you be interested in co-hosting a psychic art exhibition with me?" "An exhibition?" I was surprised. "You paint, too?" "You could say that," Asher smiled mysteriously. "I have another identity you might have heard of." He took out a silver stamp engraved with a complex star pattern. My eyes widened. It was the exclusive seal of "Stardust." Stardust, the most mysterious and acclaimed psychic artist in Europe. His works were priceless, but no one had ever seen his face.

Portions of the stone sculpture had eroded, but the gentle face of the sorrowful angel was still visible and most of the right wing was still intact. “Here you go, Nestie. The Weeping Angel of Cardena,” said Lisa, gesturing towards the old sculpture. Nestie seemed transfixed as he looked at the sculpture. He tilted his head from side to side and bent forward a few times to look at the details. “Well, what do you think, Mister Art Connoisseur?” teased Lisa. Nestie placed a hand under his chin. “It’s beautiful, Lisa,” he murmured. “That’s all?” Lisa asked her friend. “I thought you would have a lot more to say.”

is perfect. Miss Layla, accommodate us. With a smile, she introduced it to us, "This artwork is entitled: Eros and Agape. Made by our one and only Greek woman, Miss Agape Clive." My eyes slowly turn wide as the others gasp in amusement. Aga... pe? "Oooh, Greek! Where is she? How much for this!?" And the noisy queries start. I remained staring at the painting. Am I hallucinating or assuming, but I think the man looks like... me?

Her eyes became more curious as she saw the torn paper in pieces, some of which were shredded. She hoped to find at least a diary, but she found something that piqued her interest. It took her a couple of seconds before she realized that the torn paper might be an art form. Given by the paint in the paper. She tried to piece the puzzle together until she came across a painted image of a tree, specifically the tree of aegis, and beneath it, a young man who was undeniably beautiful.It looks familiar, but Aesthelia was too engrossed by it to notice and recognize the subject.

Each one just seems to out preform the last. This piece in particular is taken from human inspiration. They have something called Greek gods and goddesses, though they just remind me of faeries. Still, this is a pastel color painting that I hope depicts something like a dream where these angelic beings are sitting somewhere on clouds far away from our perception. “I’m going to list it for five grand,” I say and hold my breath as I wait for Arthur’s reaction. “Go for seven.” He says as if that’s even a possibility.

I'm on my toes tonight, my anxiety ticking so fast, one of my demons might spurt and run free with all these devil pets in sight. Francesca, Caelum's cousin did a very good job at styling me, the dress she put me in is very comfortable and unduly exquisite. The glances I've received from not only the men, but the woman has confirmed this dress will take the marketplace by storm when Francesca finally puts replica's of it in stores. The women gathered by the painting of a nude Adonis by a local artist, another shit endorsed mafia brat of an asshole. His painting is horrible, as opposed to the one I'm looking at. I was only staring at it to avoid socialization but now I find it interesting, it

Tears trickled down my cheeks and I tried sniffing it back in. A knock resounded from the door. Did he come back? “Phoenix. It’s Angel.” I sighed, and wiped my tears before telling her to come in. Angel was one of the artist whose work was displayed. She was a very beautiful woman who survived her husband’s domestic abuse. Just like me, she was rescued by the company.

This kiss carried weight, a vow unspoken. When they broke apart, Allistair grinned happily. “So do you want to see it now?” “Yes baby, where is it?” Samael exclaimed, clearly excited. Allistair stood up and waved his hand and the square designed fountain parted and revealed all his paintings that he recently made and on the centeris the exact replica of the painting he burned. The one called “Aeternum”. The painting made by the greatest painter of all time, his favorite painter Vianna Resilda Del Fierro, Samael’s mother.

"What did you paint, mama bear?" Shayla held up her canvas. She had painted the ocean. Blue water stretching to the horizon. White foam on the waves. A sunset in the background. Simple but pretty. "That is beautiful," Angel said. "Really beautiful, Mommey." "Thank you, baby. What about you? What did you paint?" Angel turned her canvas around. She showed them what she had been working on so carefully. It was people. A family. Clearly recognizable figures despite Angel's young artistic skills.