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Liebesleid Chapter 4 (Ib fanfiction)"I remember how she laughed when I took to her to my favorite cafe, and we had macarons; they were so delicious, and we made a whole show about feeding each other." Guertena's eyes glimmered with a faint, wistful happiness as he remembered the surprised expression on her face when he popped the strawberry macaron into her mouth.
"Those were good days, weren't they?" Garry smiled at the pale-haired artist, who nodded and continued to mix away at a pleasing blend of coppery brown.
"...I only wished it lasted the rest of my life."
The fake Garry was in an absolute rage. He had no idea where his Ib had disappeared to, and to make matters worse, there was a completely annoying green mannequin that kept throwing palette knives at him.
There was something very, very strange about that mannequin. It had attached a head to its neck, and somehow even acquired a blonde wig. It seemed familiar, but he had other things to do. Pacing back and forth in front of the strange painti
Liebesleid Chapter 7 (Ib fanfiction)"..I can't believe this..." Garry and Guertena stared at the easel as Ib rose, the second sonata in her hands. Guertena's eyes were wide and disbelieving. "She...I mean, I had high expectations for her, but...to peacefully subdue Mary...I didn't see that coming."
Garry remained silent, his eyes tracing Ib's features.
So much pain...it had taken all his strength to crawl away from that wretched blue woman, but his rose-
Dimly, he thought he sensed a presence. Gentle, small fingers pried the key away from his hand, and footsteps retreated. A few moments later, his vision cleared.
Standing in front of him was a little girl. Out of fear that she was an enemy, he leaped backwards; but then he calmed down and peered at the petite figure standing in front of him with a bewildered
Whether it was the fact that she was the first friendly face he had seen since entering the gallery, or the fact that she looked tiny and vulnerable, his heart instinctively reached out to her.
Liebesleid Chapter 5 (Ib fanfiction)It's so dark...so very dark. He knows for sure he's dead, but he can still hear the beating of his concrete heart against his steel ribs, taut skin stretched across metal framework.
She's not here. The darkness slides away as he blinks with non-existent eyelids and sucks in a breath with quicksand-filled lungs.
This world is empty. There is no Ivonne waiting for him with open arms and a warm smile. Nothing but blankness, miles and miles of empty, empty loneliness.
It's too much.
The realization that he is forever trapped in a cage of his own design- he can only watch numbly as he sinks to his iron knees, acidic tears burning holes into his eyes, his hands.
Over the endless decades, he gets accustomed to it. Watching as his artwork takes on a life of its own, devouring people, spitting them back out if they are indigestible.
Behind carnivorous, candy-colored bars consisting of mannequins and lady fingers, he can only dream pointlessly.
Until they arrive. A tiny, crimso
Liebesleid Chapter 8 (Ib fanfiction)After picking up the water-stained pages of the last sonata outside of the mirrored room, Ib closed her eyes and leaned against a wall. She knew she didn't have much time left, but she was so tired and cold...her rose was still in her pocket. She hadn't looked at it ever since leaping out of Ivonne's painting, and she could tell that it was missing at least two petals. With a sigh, she rose, eyes shut, and took a deep breath as she faced the direction Ivonne's room was in, her fists clenched. Raising her head, Ib felt her determination and energy rushing back.
Hold on, Ivonne, Guertena...Garry...I'll be there soon.
"...Guertena? Guertena, are you alright?!" Worriedly, Garry knelt down next to the slumped artist, shaking his shoulder. "Come on! Wake up!"
"Ugh..." Guertena coughed and curled up. "I-Ivonne..."
"What's wrong?! Talk to me!"
"She..she's going to come back...that other side of me came back, that bad side...I'm...almost complete again...God, it hurts..."
Liebesleid Chapter 6 (Ib fanfiction)Why are you in this room?! How did you get in here?
Get out. GET OUT!!!!!.
Ib...she burned her portrait with the lighter...it didn't hurt, really. She didn't have a concept of being hurt.
After all, she was only a fake. A faux little girl, pretty and happy with blonde, bubbly curls and wide blue eyes. The picture of innocence- but only a picture.
She didn't really know what any of these things meant though.
What was anger?
What was pain?
What was sadness?
She knew the words, but like a color-blind child, she was never capable of attaching any of them to the multicolored blend that raged like a thunderstorm in her head. After a while, the "feelings" arranged themselves neatly. She learned to use them, like masks, but the masks always fell off when people realized who she was.
What she was.
So she waited, and waited. The dolls, paintings, and books kept her company. Letters, words, and sentences that she automatically knew how to read were the only windows to a worl
SheIt was in a dream when I arrived at the city and began to eat my way through the skyscrapers. Manhattan took to my skin and formed a second layer consisting of fluorescent lights, screeching cabs, and people. God, how they stuck to my eyes.
My new flat was in SoHo; the building was a little bohemian affair, bricked and a huge mess of those stucco and plastered things. Quite cute in a vintage old-girl sort of way, if it weren't for the fact that I realized the place was a literal mental asylum during the first few weeks.
The people in the holes next door, above and below; they were champagne in essence. Mr. Lucksley and his wife were utter schizophrenics. He sang Carmen while she smashed the pots in the kitchen and screamed that the alley cats were planning a raid. At the same time, they were darlings; the wife gave me a beautiful dream catcher upon my arrival to "snatch up the nasties".
Below, Ms. Bunt always smelled like something burning. I often wondered if she dealt with pottery ki
Don't look back.Everything consists of a lot of rain, a window, two numb hearts, and one emerald painting.
The first splattered down and spilled into the streets like lifeblood, as if it wished to wipe clean the world of beautiful and indestructible sin. This rain finds itself begging at the doors, hoping to forget.
In this weather, people are blind to one another, each enveloped in their own thoughts of home. A bunch of giggling and drenched students flee from the watery onslaught, rushing to the nearest lit window and exclaiming to one another that it is better than nothing, at least until the sky stops crying.
As they step in, the puddles surround them protectively. Perhaps the rain they carried in with them knew? Not unlikely. Their chatter fills the air like pretty bubbles as they look around the art gallery.
There is a girl. She sits very still, on a stool, and holds her spine away from them. The green folds of her coat are weary, creasing with age and velvet.
Like a statue, the man stands next
Definition of ManiaMania: From Greek μανία; "madness, frenzy." From Greek: μαίνομαι; "To rage, to be mad, to be furious." An established criterion for diagnosing several mental disorders.
I will describe it to you, this mania. Taste the absinthe hallucination as this sudden green intoxication trickles down your throat, streamlining into veins as your heart dances by the electric strobe light, beat after beat. The room blurs twice, stands at attention, and blurs again. Distortion sets in and you just want to shed everything right then and there, regardless of the voices that zoom in and out those ears. Brace yourself for the roller coaster ride-
"Drinks have been poured."
The visions start. Not necessarily in your eyes but they riot freely in your mind. The word salad is so tasty as it runs off your tongue- you honestly don't give a damn at your companion's confused expression, because your creativity levels are off the charts and you swear, yo
Out of sheer boredomStolen from: :iconluckyshadow123:
1: Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette?
Never smoked and I'm the type of person to walk past a smoker with her nose clogged. Admittedly, it looks classy, but I just wish it wasn't bad for you and the SMELL. URGH.
2: Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused?
Single. I'm a nun-in-practice.
3: What if I told you that you were pretty?
4: Ever been told "it's not you, it's me"?
5: Are you interested in anyone right now?
6: What are you looking forward to in the next week?
RISE OF THE GUARDIANS. Because Christmas is never complete without a good movie.
7: Do you want to be single?
Unsure about that. It's nice to go out with someone but they'd have to hold my interest, and I get bored easily.
8: Did you go out or stay in last night?
9: How late did you stay up last night?
12...something. I like to get in bed and read, then I lie back and think.
10: Can you recall the last time you realized you liked s
Old Habits -Ib+Oneshot-Garry flicked his smoked cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with his heel as he faintly heard the final school bell ring. He waited patiently as the students began flooding out the entrance gates, talking of how they were going to just waste their days away, as opposed to studying for tests or working on school projects. He exhaled the plume of smoke he had been holding back, and settled his hands into his pockets. It was just like every other day.
Ever since their reunion after the art gallery, Garry made it a point to see Ib everyday. After school he would walk her home or to his house to help her study. If it were a weekend, the two of them would go to the cafe and have some macaroons and some drinks—juice for her, coffee for him. Then after that, they'd stop at Garry's apartment just to hang out and talk about random things. There was quite an age gap between the two, but Ib was Garry's best friend.
The aforementioned girl rounded the corner to the entrance, walking to
Promise- Ib/Garry fanfictionIb shot up breathing hard and fastalmost to the point of hyperventilation. Her heart pounded in her chest and felt as if it was going to burst. Cold sweat dampened her face like morning due on grass, her hands clenched tightly, making my knuckles whiteit almost looked as if the bone was ready to burst through the skin. Franticly, her widened eyes searched the unfamiliar room at such a speed her brain couldn't comprehend anything within the room. Her entire body shook violently fearing this unknown place. A dizzy sensation fell over her, she almost felt like she was going to vomit or pass out again.
"Morning Ib, how are you feeling?"
Ib inhaled sharply, the voice had startled her. Her body froze as her eyes searched for the man who spoke. It was GarryOh thank heavens! Something familiar in this dreadful, mysterious place! She saw him peer out from behind a bookshelf before walking over to her. A gentle smile played on his lips as he kneeled down in front of her. She tr
Ib - Memories Crannies - Chapter 1Chapter 1
Ib walked into her school, forced to squeeze her way through the corridors to her first class: art. It was time to see if the substitute teacher was any good. As she settled down into one of the chairs, she looked around and saw that there was no one. She sighed; that was a good start. She had arrived before the teacher himself.
"I am so sorry I'm late I-" A roughly twenty-year old man with fascinatingly purple hair and a maimed blue coat stopped as he took in the fact that there was only one girl here, "Ah. How are you Ib?" He said with a smile and said girl looked up immediately from her book. Garry frowned; who was Ib? How could he possibly know her name? If it was her name; it probably wasn't. Although, come to think of it, 'Ib' wasn't a very common name in the first place. Garry didn't even know it existed; yet the name had felt so familiar and normal rolling over his tongue. Anyway, it would only make matters worse if the girl responded.
"Sorry, what di
Promise of a ReunionPromise of a Reunion
Ib[Game]: by Kouri
She strained to stretch her hand out, as far as possible, toward the blinding white pouring out of the canvas. Within it, a strong, lean hand reached out; its owner trying with all his might to grasp that tiny, delicate hand.
His fingers curled around hers the moment they made contact, then pulled the body from whence it came close to his chest; enveloping the slight figure into the folds of his tattered faded navy-blue coat. The girl, though shaken, held on steadfast, the strength of her grasp defying its tiny structure.
"Oh!" A Sharp intake of cold recycled air entered her lungs, producing an exclamation barely audible above that of a whisper.
Ib stood bewilderedly in front of the canvas. Vision snapping back to where she was supposed to be looking at: the minuscule title of the colossal masterpiece.
"Fabricated World" echoed through her mind, even though she did not recognize the characters that made up the l
Promises Of Midnight Macaroons "I have to see you again."
My footsteps echoed through the corridor that was bathed with a mix of a soft violet and a powerful royal blue.
Where am I? I mused as I continued.
A hand rested softly on my shoulders as we walked.
Who is that? I wondered in my thoughts.
A red rose was clutched in my small hands protectively, its soft velvet petals letting off some sort of mellow glow.
I turned around but nobody was there, meaning I was alone in the corridor. I began walking again, back to where I was headed.
Where am I going? I thought to myself silently.
The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, the only sound was my footsteps as I walked. I felt the hand resting on my shoulder but knew there was no one there.
"The rose "
I stopped walking and felt the sudden urge to turn around. Not being able to resist the temptation, I slowly turned and something caught my eye. A full and beautiful blue rose
Ib - Memories Crannies - Chapter 2Chapter 2
As the deafening bell announced break, Ib was still trying to figure out what the familiarity of Art had been due to. Suddenly, a group of younger students ran past Ib in the corridor, nearly making her books and herself tumble to the floor if it hadn't been for another, older student who had helped her.
"Let's play hide and seek! I want to seek! I want to seek!" A girl screeched.
"Are you okay?" The boy replied, but she barely heard. Her mind had already escaped to another world...
All of a sudden, the stick man disappears and something is scrawled in a thick yellow paint that could choke me, 'Play hide and seek?' I open curtains in blind desperation; my petals rip and the lights dim. Then, I open a curtain and see a painting. A painting of me being hanged. I crash onto the floor from terror, breathing rapidly. Then I realise there's only one curtain left. There's nothing left to lose. That's why I stand up and walk to it with determination. I press the b
The Madness of GarryPurple, dark, creepy; those were many of the words Garry would use to describe the area he was in now. But, the area he was in now was not the thing Garry was so creeped out by. Hauntingly, the blue doll's big red eyes stared up at him. He shivered at the thought of having to touch the thing, but it had to be done in order to get the paint ball inside it's bulging stomach. He reached for the doll slowly, but the already strained seams that held the dolls stomach in place popped, and what rolled out was a red ball of paint. The purple haired, skinny man reached down and touched the slimy paint ball, not surprised as the coldness from the ball disappeared along with the paint ball. He knew that it would be in it's proper spot on the pedestal in the other room, so he wasn't worried or even surprised as he had been the first time.
The doll hopped up and down in anger at the fact that it's treasure had been taken from it by the man it had been trying to be friends with throughout the last h
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More