#and the painter died
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I’m way too sensitive for cute museum dates like what do you mean all these people are dead??? They lived and then they made beautiful art and did great things and then they just died??? Call me an ambulance.
#I only go to museums when I’m feeling brave enough to cry in public#this is about one specific painting at the Jane Addams Hull House museum#the painting was of the first woman to open her own medical practice in Chicago in like the 1890s#and she and the painter were best friends#and then a year after the painting was finished the painter fell deathly ill and the doctor in the painting took care of her in hospice#and the painter died#museums#dark academia#light academia#museum date#date ideas#cute date ideas#jane addams
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Man, fuck that fish"
closeups below cuz tumblr hates me </3
In short: I have played the funny Roblox fish game, it’s good :3
#darieart#p.ai.nter pressure#p.ai.nter#pressure#roblox pressure#pressure fanart#sebastian solace#sebastian pressure#too bad I die in the ridge easily (I died twice at door 103 smh)#And both times I got greeted with a “womp womp” wich is very funny to me#I need to find painter- but I had no luck so far - didn’t even get server rooms lol#I’ll add alt text tommorow#I’m eepy
677 notes
·
View notes
Text
Please.. Forgive me.
Warnings/Notes: vague descriptions of dismemberment, descriptions of gory scenes, angst, deaths, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of suicide, more questions than answers
"I'm sure we’ll be able to get out of this, especially with Painter’s help.. distracting those disposables Urbanshade brings so we can grab the crystal" you said in a cheerful voice, swinging your legs back and forth from the box you were sitting on.
Sebastian let out an uncomfortable hum, his attention glued to the files marked "CLASSIFIED" in bold letters. He was pouring over the documents without even a glance away, barely even pausing to breathe. You’d seen him work himself to exhaustion like this before, sometimes even passing out from the strain. Secretly, you were starting to worry he’d begin hallucinating from the lack of sleep.
Your face unconsciously tightened into a frown, and your lips pressed into a thin line as you noticed his anxious habit—running a hand through his hair and trying to tuck it behind his fins. It reminded you of when he’d always push the hair falling down each side of his face behind his ears back when he was (well, still is) human.
Quickly replacing your frown, you kept chatting away about all the things you could do once you were back on the surface. You mentioned how living by a nice beach could be a fresh, relaxing start for both of you after everything. Painter could even capture the beauty of the sunsets there.
There was no sign he was listening, but you knew his mind was elsewhere. Still, you kept talking—it was a surefire way to help calm your own nerves.
Listening to Painter ramble on about whatever he liked—a new drawing or sketch he’d made, or even just complaining about the disposables—was one of the only things that could ground you, helping keep you tethered when your thoughts began to consume you. Somehow, it both soothed you and brought back all the anxieties you were left with at the end of each day.
Sometimes Painter noticed the shifts in your mood and asked about them. Usually, you didn’t tell him anything to avoid worrying him, letting him continue his usual ramblings, but today was one of those rare moments when you let a thought slip.
“.. Are you alright? I started complaining about Sebastian, and you didn’t even jump in to defend him or argue about it” he noted, trying to keep the worry in his tone hidden. Being soft or consoling wasn’t something his programming was used to after all his time in a place like this.
You looked down, trying to find the right words to explain to the AI the emotional mess you were in now (and, honestly, always) and to make him understand, even just a little.
“It’s just... Is it wrong that I’m becoming numb to someone dying? I used to feel sick, to gag whenever I saw a disposable’s corpse, and now it doesn’t faze me—their deaths or the brutal injuries. It’s like it doesn’t gross me out at all. I think picking through bodies with Sebastian is getting to me...” You chuckled softly, though it was more out of hollow irony than anything.
“And besides, it’s hard trying to help Sebastian when he only lets me tend to the disposables that end up here. Other than that, he doesn’t let me help him physically or mentally.”
You ran a hand through your hair, trying in vain to calm yourself or slow down the racing of your thoughts. You felt your breathing grow ragged, your hands shaking beyond your control as if they were reacting all on their own.
“It’s exhausting... I want to help him a little because I know the hell he’s dealing with, but I also have no idea what goes through his head, especially when he won’t tell me the full story.”
Your voice wavered, your teeth chattering as a tremor started to take over your body.
“He tells me I can’t help him when I can’t even help myself. I can handle my mess and his at the same time; I know I can.”
You could hear Painter’s voice saying something, but it didn’t register.
“I know I can do it, I’m fine. I wouldn’t get tired of hearing his complaints or thoughts.”
There was Painter’s voice again. What was he saying?
“I can handle it, I’M FINE—”
“You’re bleeding!”
Painter’s voice came through the old computer speakers so loudly you swore it sounded distorted.
You tasted something metallic on your lower lip, and your tongue quickly recognized the taste of blood when you licked it, realizing what it was.
You looked down at your hands, now stained red, with the indents of your nails pressing into your palms.
When you blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, you noticed your eyelashes were wet, and your cheeks felt uncomfortably damp. You had been crying too.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Sorry.” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing or what for. You just felt the need to after putting poor Painter through this, letting him see you unraveling over your anxieties, showing him this sorry state.
“It’s okay... Just.. do you want to talk it over more calmly?” he asked, his words sounding a bit awkward as he wasn’t sure what to say or do.
You quickly shook your head, wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You braced your hands against the floor to stand, relying on it to steady you because your legs were still trembling. You didn’t trust yourself to get up without some support, given how shaky you still felt.
Before Painter could say anything else, you left as quickly as you could, trying to drown out the voices in your head blaming you for burdening him, for voicing your problems aloud. You didn’t deserve even his pity.
You were pathetic—worse than pitiful.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to show up at Sebastian’s shop, the place you called home.
You sprinted quickly into one of the rooms down the long hallway you’d been running through. Instinct drove you under the desk in the wide room, both hands clamped over your mouth and nose to stifle the sound of your heavy, panicked breathing. You needed to hide from this monster.
Scenes of the person you were escaping from replayed in your head like a film.
It was just another disposable who’d somehow made it this far while you’d been with Painter. You’d spotted him at a distance in a dark room before the voices over the speakers cut through the silence, alerting you and the disposable who was now only inches away from you.
“There’s another person inside the facility. They violated company regulations and are complicit with Z-13. Their elimination will yield twice the initial reward.” The HQ voice blared through the speakers, making you gasp when it mentioned your name.
You’d forgotten that some of the cameras still worked throughout the facility, likely monitoring the disposables and reporting on what was taking them down along the way.
The moment you took a step forward and your footfall echoed across the room, you felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck. Without daring to look back at the person behind you, you took off running, a prey fleeing from its hunter.
The sound of a missed gunshot made your blood run cold in an instant. You didn’t even want to ask how he got a weapon, but he had one—and you were completely defenseless.
That’s what brought you here, crouched under the desk, silently praying to God that, just this once, he would listen and spare you from this person.
You prayed to God, to Eyesfastion, hoping they’d appear out of pure chance and force him to look them in the eyes. Or for an Angler to come roaring through the rooms, Chainsmoker to slow his steps. Any miracle.
Of all the times you’d wanted to be six feet under, wished for death to just take you already, this time you didn’t want to go. No matter how often you’d begged for death to come, this time, you wanted to live.
You held your breath, clamping down on it entirely when the sound of firm footsteps filled the room where you hid.
Closer and closer.
The desk creaked as something leaned against it. He was mere inches away. You could hear his breathing and the clank of the gun as he set it on top of the desk.
Your shaking eyes drifted to the glass in front of you, showing a view of the vast, deep ocean no other human besides Urbanshade could ever witness at such depths. Due to your crouched, hidden position under the desk, you couldn’t see your own reflection in the glass, but you could see his. A sharp gasp escaped you when you saw the appearance of your hunter.
His gaze immediately dropped downward as your gasp echoed through the room. His hand swiftly gripped the gun before he moved around to the back of the desk.
Sebastian was tucking away documents and small DNA samples he found into the neoprene suit of the now-deceased expendable, also grabbing the unused batteries. He stored everything in the small pouches strapped along his tail.
When he finished organizing everything and made sure it was all in place, he started heading back to his tent, the quick thought of seeing you there to talk non-stop just to fill the ever-present silence. A humorous smile crossed his face; this time, he’d make sure to join the conversation.
The door indicator’s number flashed, crackling quickly, before the face of Painter appeared on the screen.
"SEBASTIAN."
The AI’s shout disoriented him for a couple of seconds, leaving him confused by its sudden appearance. Painter usually waited until Sebastian visited him in his usual location to relay any messages, so seeing him appear here and shout was odd.
"What’s going on? I’m doing inventory on the expendables, so you can tell me whatever you need later, you stupid—"
"Shut up, you filthy fish, and get to room 65. They’re in danger."
The mention of your name and that you were in danger ignited something inside him.
You had already mastered the dangers of this place, even if you still trembled with fear after an Angler encounter. What had stopped you now?
He didn’t take the time to respond to the AI, instead moving as fast as his instincts could carry him to the room number. He knew the place like the back of his hand and was only six rooms away—just a little more, and he’d be there.
He was greeted by a wide hallway and the stench of blood, sharply invading his senses and nostrils. The smell was sickening, but he could bear it for a few minutes—though this time, it felt disturbingly familiar.
The stench led him to a room where he immediately noticed blood-stained glass, crimson trails streaking downwards. The sight disgusted him more than anything else, for no clear reason.
His third hand moved to his three-barreled shotgun. Although he heard nothing, something told him that wasn’t a good sign.
His breath caught entirely when two bodies came into view, and he recognized yours immediately, even though he tried not to.
You were covered in blood, both your own and your attacker’s. Dried blood streamed from your nose, bruises becoming clear against the pallor of your skin. You had two gunshot wounds: one in your stomach and another in your leg.
Then he looked at your attacker.
The blood on the attacker’s face made it hard to see him clearly, but gray hair and a graying beard showed through wrinkles and lines that marked his features.
He had also been shot, but his wound was on the forehead, and there were a series of scratches on his neck, arms, and face—made with fierce aggression.
Sebastian could almost picture the possible scenario that led to all this.
A fleeting thought crossed his mind, wondering if your pulse might still be beating, but it vanished as quickly as it came.
He heard no breath, no desperate gasping for air. Nothing.
The silence terrified him; you were supposed to fill that silence with words, turn that "nothing" into "something."
Had your attacker enjoyed your suffering? Had he even regretted, at any moment, the shots he’d fired at you? Had he seen you lifeless and felt fear at his mistake? Would he have slept soundly knowing he’d killed you?
No.
No, he didn’t believe it.
He would have made him regret being alive. He would have killed him in a worse way than he killed you.
He would have made him swallow his own teeth, fingers, and scraps of skin while he was still alive. Being alive would have been its own torture.
More than anything, he wanted to avenge you, to have done something so that this repulsive creature hadn’t killed or tortured you, even if in some "stupid" way.
…
He needed you.
#sebastian solace x reader#pressure x reader#sebastian solace fanfic#sebastian solace x you#sebastian x reader#sebastian solace x yn#sebastian is turning in a little yandere in the end#i love angst when i have evaluations#just a LITTLE long#i love this so much#it's called “Forgive me.. Please.”#because reader don't wanna die and.. they just died#oops#they leave seb and painter alone#again#painter x reader#painter fanfic
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
i know the hunger games isnt about romance i know it isnt a love story but. theres just something so beautiful in the way peeta is the personification of what it means to heal and he /is/ the dandelion and the bread and the hope that things can be better even if they wont be fixed. even if the nightmares dont stop he will still hold her. wake her up and tell her shes alive. shes safe. and when its over and done and theres no more saving or protecting or trying their absolute hardest to die if it means keeping the other alive, the horrors dont stop. but katniss will still find that comfort in peetas arms.
#and peeta Goes Through It too but hes there!!!!!!!! hes always there and hes kind and artistic and peaceful and good and everything that#the games could never destroy (the hijacking couldve but he found his way back. he still wonders whats real sometimes but he knows. he know#who he is. a painter a baker and a boy who loves. she reminds him of that love too)#anyways :( katniss longs for peetas arms and nobodys been this gentle with her since her father died and she stopped letting her mother#hold her. and peeta does#something about the way he holds her so so gently with so much love and care despite all the destruction and how peeta counteracts the fire#in katniss. the one that tells her she needs to protect and defend and prioritize keeping her family alive and keep her guard up. but hes#there to comfort her and hold her and protect her and those r all the things katniss doesnt get the privilege of thinking about because she#always thinking about who she needs to protect#its so personal to me. god i am Not okay rn#i have a rehearsal before school tmr and i am sooooo sleepy but. insane thoughts can never wait#everlark#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#peeniss#< the real ship name#the hunger games#thg#late night thoughts & all that jazz#🫀
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
what kind of hobbies does machete have, and is there any artist, musical or visual, that he likes in particular?
He's an avid reader and has an impressive personal library. Crowds and big public events aren't his thing but he enjoys going to theatre and opera occasionally. He commissions and collects art, I'd like to believe he's a patron to at least a couple of painters and sculptors. If I had to pick one artist to be his favorite, I think it might be an obvious choice but I'd have to go with Caravaggio, a contemporary of his.
#look at that chiaroscuro#moody dramatic violent religious Caravaggio#I'm not sure if Machete would be able to afford his services he was already lauded and in high demand in his lifetime#but it's fiction let me believe#fun fact he's one of those famous painters that are frequently speculated to have been gay#he showed up painted some of the most influential works in european art history lived a turbulent life murdered a guy and died young#I keep being bummed about the fact that I can't make Machete a Bernini fanboy#Bernini fits his vibes#but he's very likely already dead by the time Bernini's career kicks off their timelines don't align very well at all#answered#anonymous#Machete
521 notes
·
View notes
Text
Inspired by the recent excavations and new frescos at Pompeii
Our friend Papilio the Painter from ‘Amarantus and his Neighbours’ (Caroline Lawrence and CSCP) for Dr Sophie Hay
With apologies to the painters of Pompeii
PHOTO BBC/TONYJOLIFFE
#pompeii#ancient greek women#tagamemnon#greek mythology#greek myth#illustration#greek myth comix#trojan war#comic#myth comic#artistic choices#fresco#excavationss#scavi di pompei#roman history#painter#papilio the painter
173 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Sandro Botticelli, Madonna and Child with St. John the Baptist, detail, c. 1470–1475.
Musée du Louvre, Paris, France.
#1470#painting#sandro botticelli#madonna and child#detail#my edits#st. john the baptist#botticelli#musée du louvre#louvre#alessandro di mariano di vanni filipepi#Mythological painters#Mythological#italian#Renaissance painters#quattrocento painters#madonna#saint john#saint john the baptist
335 notes
·
View notes
Text
pressure update experience
ft a screenshot of friends and me under the cut
ft my buddies Mims and Ludwig as the ones that are not Mac Opsys
#clemspaint#this is technically ttcc. ill maintag it later#I GOT STUCK ON THE TABLE AND GOT DOWN TO 5 HEALTH ADN THEN DIED#its ok though i like the painter#I also shined a light in sebastians face expecting a warning and got jumpscared when he one shotted me#mac opsys has been shot down by a firing squad
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
They hugged let’s gooooo ✊
#i also think i may have died a bit inside if they had destroyed that degas#he’s my favourite painter#i couldn’t have handled it#dead gay wizards#the marauders#jegulus#james potter#regulus black
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m sobbing why did p.AI.nter just say “Your not bulletproof SWEEtie” to me????
#I immediately died so I didn’t get to ask him#but I’m pretty sure he said that#roblox pressure#roblox pressure the painter#pressure#pAInter#the painter
14 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Diana De Rosa, called Annella di Massimo (Italian, 1601-1634): Saint Cecilia (via Dorotheum)
#Annella di Massimo#Diana De Rosa#early women artists#early women painters#italian painters#religious art#saint cecilia#seventeenth century
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ritratto di Silvana Cenni
Felice Casorati
1922
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
Grief
#sun wukong#lego monkie kid#tang sanzang#tripitaka#even though we don’t know what happened in lmk that everyone died and Wukong is still here#but I think they were supposed to move on together#and Wukong has a hard time coming to terms with Tripitaka being gone#I’m not a painter usually so this was hella difficult#my art#lmk#Wukong’s family is dead#:(
258 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Miraculous Catch of Fish and the Calling of the Apostles Peter and Andrew
Artist: Duccio di Buoninsegna (Italian, c.1260- c. 1318–1319)
Genre: Religious Art
Date c. 1308-1311
Medium: Tempera on Wood
National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC
Jesus Calls Peter and Andrew | Matthew 4:1822
Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee. He saw two brothers. They were Simon (his other name was Peter) and Andrew, his brother. They were putting a net into the sea for they were fishermen. Jesus said to them, “Follow Me. I will make you fish for men!” At once they left their nets and followed Him.
Going from there, Jesus saw two other brothers. They were James and John, the sons of Zebedee. They were sitting in a boat with their father, mending their nets. Jesus called them. At once they left the boat and their father and followed Jesus.
#religious art#fish#net#apostle peter#apostle andrew#jesus#sea of galilee#new testament#gospel of matthew#14th century painting#tempera on wood#duccio di buoninsegna#christian art#christianity#italian painter
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dude! So I played the bloody painter dating sim, and BP was wearing almost exactly what Crumbelino wears, just with a few small differences in appearance. While I was playing the game, his personality was exactly what I had in mind. And the voice is sooo-aaaaah! 💖
#ralph breaks the internet#wreck it ralph#sugar rush#artists on tumblr#genderbend time#sugar rush genderbend#crumbelina di caramello#the bloody painter#dating sim#thebloodypainterdatingsim
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Still into some creepypasta? Come check out some of my old yet some fixed sketches dawgs👌(besides that pink image, that an’t no pasta D: ) I don’t highly include myself into creepypasta anymore but it won’t stop me from drawing time to time!!!👌
#creepypasta#creepypasta fanart#artists on tumblr#sketches and doodles#funny doodles#fun doodles#creepypasta fandom#morivin creepypasta#nathan the nobody#jason the toymaker#bloody painter#hobo heart#candy pop creepypasta#puppeteer creepypasta#papa grande di magico#Slender doll Ally#ur mom lol#the dollmaker creepypasta
166 notes
·
View notes