Vincent Van Gogh X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Drabbles

Pairing: personalized (so me as MC, can be viewed either as platonic or romantic)

Summary: just a few drabbles

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR VINCENT'S, ISAAC'S (IF YOU SQUINT) AND LEO'S ROUTES!!! Description of mental health issues (I can't specify, bc I don't know what's wrong with me) (it's escalating from the least to the most angsty drabble), suicide intention

A/N: This. Is. Super. Angsty. I've been struggling lately and this is for my comfort only, I'm posting this for the small chance you'd like to read it and maybe find comfort in it yourself. I must warn you though, this is triggering.

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Opposites

"Truth is...I'm not like most people." Vincent confessed, his eyes never moving from the canvas.

It was a warm and sunny day and Vincent asked Robin to keep him company, while he painted. And who was she to turn down The Vincent van Gogh?

However, this sentence quite caught her off guard. "I mean, you're a vampire..." she said and he chuckled, the sound so light and carefree it made a smile appear on her face as well. "Although that is true, it's not what I meant." his hand worked effortlessly on the painting that was slowly unravelling in front of her "I don't feel things like other people do." he explained.

The made her confused. What did he mean? As if sensing her question, Vincent continued "Ever since I can remember, I never felt any negative emotion. Sadness, anger, envy, all those things are foreign to me."

Suddenly, his smile felt completely different, despite never changing. It was strange seeing him talk about such a glum thing with such a gentle smile on his face and look in his eyes. Then again, she couldn't recall a single moment, where Vincent would be angry or any type of negative...

It came to Robin that this was probably an intimate subject for him and she certainly didn't want him to feel pressured into talking about this with her. When she voiced her concerns, he turned to look at her "There's nothing to worry about Robin. After all, you said you wanted to get to know me better, so I thought you should know." he assured her with a smile, finally looking at her.

Then the conversation stopped and they were both left in silence. Not an awkward one, perhaps Vincent was just giving her time to process it all, which was something she definitely needed.

Robin layed down on the warm grass, putting an arm over her eyes as she listened to the soft sounds of Vincent's brush gliding over the canvas.

What did that feel like, not feeling negative emotions? For a fleeting moment she thought it must've been nice, but then all the downs of it dawned on her. Not being able to be sad when someone close to you dies. Not being able to get angry at someone mistreating others... She'd hate herself if she wasn't able to feel these things and yet she wouldn't even be able to do that.

"Thank you for telling me that Vincent." Robin said quietly, her voice loud enough for him to hear. "You went quiet all of a sudden." the painter pointed out. "I just imagined what that must be like." she shrugged her shoulders.

If he told her something so personal, it only made sense that she tells him something about herself too. Robin had an idea of what she could tell him, but the thought of confessing something like that made her anxiety shoot through the roof, insecure thoughts filling her mind.

Robin hesitated on her next sentence, choosing carefuly every word "I think I have the opposite problem." His head perked up at her words, his whole body turning to face Robin, yet she still layed with her eyes covered, not looking at him. "What do you mean?" it was now his time to be confused.

"I think too much about everything. Small things, big things, things that aren't even happening to me. I like to think about it all, ponder and view from all the different angles. It's my biggest gift and a curse as well." she removed her arm and gazed at the blue sky, not wanting to be envelopped by darkness when she says this.

"A lot of things happen in the world. All the time. Sometimes...it gets too much. I feel like I'll burst with all the thoughts and emotions raging like a storm inside me and then I'm just...numb." Out of the corner of her eye, Robin could see Vincent tilting his head to the side a little. "It's like my whole mind just...shuts down and concentrates on the simplest tasks, like doing my work, eating, sleeping. I can be empty like that for months and months. The truth is," she paused to turn her head to look into his eyes, those bright blue oceans, that no longer looked happy, but rather concerned "the truth is that there's so much pain in my mind, that it refuses to acknowledge it anymore." Robin shifted her gaze towards the grass as she began to play with it "Or so I've been told."

The silence that followed was much heavier than the previous one. Robin thought it was because this time, Vincent didn't smile. No, he was frowning. Just like he did for her, she gave him time to process it, secretly hoping that she didn't ramble too much.

But after a while Vincent smiled again, though this time she thought it was for her sake only "Thank you for telling me Robin." She blushed at his words "Are you sure I didn't talk too much?" she asked bashfuly to reassure herself. Vincent nodded, chuckling "Of course not. After all, I said I wanted to get to know you more too, didn't I?" he smiled at her and the afternoon continued as peacefully as ever.

Purpose

One of her most favorite things in this new life she was living was napping with Leonardo.

She was never a good sleeper, so she'd come to him and ask him if they can nap together and he never declined, much to her joy. After some time, she stopped asking. She saw him sitting on the library floor, that droopy look in his eyes and she just plopped down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder and he understood.

Today, she found him in his room, laying in his bed for once. Once he saw it was Robin who entered, he scooted away to make room for her and she joined him. They layed on their sides, facing eachother to save as much space as possible.

But today was different. While Leonardo's sleepiness always made her relax and fall asleep as well, it seemed today even he couldn't sleep. And so they talked. At first it wasn't anything serious, everything and nothing, their voices hushed, so they wouldn't ruin the quiet atmosphere and besides, there was no reason to be loud.

But as the conversation went on, the topics started getting more serious and so turned the tones of their voices as well.

The deep sadness Leo's eyes held as he told her about his alchemy experiments was surely engraved in her mind for the time being.

"I think that because your lives are limited, it gives you purpose."

She took in that sentence for a while, before she giggled. The sadness that plagued those beautiful golden eyes was quickly replaced by confusion and before he could think she was making fun of him, Robin tried to explain, not realizing where would this sentence take her "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you, I swear!" she wheezed breathlessly between giggles.

Leonardo quirked a brow "And what are you laughing at then?"

Not long after she managed to calm down her breathing and the realization that she'll really have to confess something she hasn't told even the doctors in her time dawned on Robin. She suddenly didn't feel like laughing at all.

"Well, the irony of the situation." she started sheepishly. Leonardo didn't seem much wiser, so she took a deep breath and collected her thoughts for a short while.

"I actually think the opposite." another deep breath and a sigh "Stop me if I ramble too much, alright?" she looked at him and he smirked at her in a way that told her that he knew this isn't going to be a happy topic, but in no way in hell was he going to stop her. Curious bastard, Robin thought with a grumble and shuffled closer to him, that way she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.

"This happened a long time ago, but it stuck with me. I don't remember what I was doing, I just remember, I stopped in the middle of completing the chore, for some reason, and thought to myself: Am I happy?

And do you know what the answer to that was? No. No, I didn't feel happy. To be completely honest, I didn't feel anything. But that didn't make sense, everything was going fine, I didn't have a reason to feel this way or in this case, not feel.

I started thinking about it, monitoring myself more and I realized just how numb I really am most of the time. Of course, I started to question it. Why was this happening? Why did everything feel like a dream? Why did the days, weeks, months go by, while I felt like I lived in a bubble, one that numbs everything, makes things feel muffled.

I started questioning my life. Was anything really real? Was I real? It didn't feel like I was. How does it even feel, being real? I should know, I am... Aren't I?

It started out so small. One stupid question. One easy question.

The more I thought about it, the more disconnected I felt. Every day I felt more numb. I wished I could just stop everything, but I couldn't. I carried on doing the things I was supposed to do. Go to school, do my chores, socialize with other people. I didn't know why I was doing it, it didn't make any sense, but at the same time, it was the only logical thing for me to do, something I was used to, I couldn't just stop, that would only make this chaos worse.

And I suffered through it all. When somebody asked, I didn't lie. I had no reason to. I knew there were people who'd gladly help me, but fear of annoying them and upseting them made me stay away. If they would leave, I'd truly lose my mind.

Nothing made sense anymore. My life, my choices, nothing. I was clinging to any at least a bit logical thing in my life, because everything felt so pointless, so abstract and absurd. I thought I didn't matter. That nothing I'll ever do will matter.

I still think so. I still don't feel anything most of the time, I still think everyone on this planet is worthless, even though saying it out loud feels wrong. I'm just too numb to care at the moment."

She didn't want to look at him. Through her whole speech, Leonardo was as quiet as a mouse. Finally his rich voice sounded above her head "Why didn't you just stop thinking about it then?"

Robin smiled dryly "Because it felt like I was avoiding the subject. Like it was a responsibility that I just have to get over with and I'll finally be able to breathe again."

Leonardo was quiet. Her words were strong, nothing like he'd ever heard before. There was a real pain in those words and he, as much of a smooth talker as he is, wasn't sure he could say anything that would change her mind.

So he opted for just holding her, until he'll be able to make her smile again. And perhaps a real smile this time, one she'd truly feel.

Sung woes

(I'll pretend I can sing and play the piano in this one XD)

Inspired by: Irony - English cover by Lizz Robinnet

Soft knocks sounded through Mozart's room, the great composer huffing in annoyance and turning away from his desk, where he was working on his newest piece.

Opening the door he found Robin nervously shuffling in front of him. "What do you need?" Wolf asked boredly.

"W-well, you see, uhm..." she stumbled over her words. Mozart rolled his eyes impatiently "Get on with it already." he groaned out. Robin tensed "I wanted to-to ask you, if I could play something on the piano, maybe..?"

When he just blankly stared at her, she waved her hands dismissively in front of her "O-or not! It doesn't matter, if you don't feel comfortable, I get it, hehe." she tried to laugh it off.

Mozart was in fact considering letting her play, since to this moment, he didn't know she was capable of it. Curiousity winning over his obsessive cleanliness, he sighed "Fine. Just don't get it dirty or anything."

Robin quickly nodded and rushed to the music room.

When the door closed behind her, the composer stepped back into his room, but instead of continuing his work, he headed for the bed. He sat on it and listened carefuly for any sounds.

At first, a few random melodies rang through the air, to warm herself up, he presumed.

Then, a seemingly cheerful melody, although muffled by the wall, floated from his music room.

It sounded light and airy, but had a sad undertone to it. He thought about maybe coming to listen, but quickly discarding the idea, for he himself hated being interrupted.

And it would stay that way, had the woman in the next room not started singing. Mozart couldn't make out the words from his room and so his curiosity won.

Quietly, like a thief, he crept out of his room, towards the white door to his music room. He could now hear everything much clearer and had to admit, Robin wasn't half bad. But the music was louder than her voice and it bothered him. He desperately wanted to know what the lyrics were about.

Maybe he could open the door, just a tiny bit, so the sound could escape?

Is this how others pass this room when I play? the composer wondered with a frown, feeling a bit ashamed.

If that's the case then just hear my plea: Pick me up and drop me into unfaltering sleep!

The sudden change in melody startled Mozart from his thought's, the slight glimpse of the song's lyrics worrying him. There was no way now that he'd turn away.

He reached for the knob and with the speed of a snail turned it around, making sure no potentional creaks could be heard.

He flinched at the sudden increase in volume and opened the door wider, so he could comfortably watch her. If she noticed him, he could just say he was checking if nothing happened to his piano.

What he wasn't expecting, was a hand on his shoilder and a joyful voice whisper too near to his ear for comfort "Peeping into your own room, are we?"

Mozart quickly recovered from the surprise, quickly pulling his face away from the door and facing an unlikely duo that isn't seen unless a certain physicist is present.

"What are you two doing here?" Mozart hissed at Arthur and Dazai, both writers smiling innocently. "I just noticed the sudden change in the songs, so I figured someone else must be playing and that alone is a wonder. I needed to see it with my own eyes. I didn't know Robin could play." smiled Arthur.

"I'm wondering where did all the sadness come from. Toshiko-san looks always so happy, I wanted to see what has made her so sad?" Dazai's smile turned a little sad and sympathetic, as if he knew exactly what was happening.

"How do you know she is sad if you didn't hear the lyrics?" asked Arthur. "Don't you hear? It's not the lyrics, it's the way she sings. Only an idiot wouldn't notice that." Dazai answered. Mozart nodded "I only was able to make out bits of it, but it doesn't sound very positive.

Arthur's expression turned serious "Well then we should confront her about it, singing or not." and pushed past the composer, him and Dazai hot on his tail.

The sudden arrival startled Robin and the music stopped for a short while. She didn't look at them, she didn't want to, if she did, she would break down and the song would be left unfinished.

Just as Arthur opened his mouth, her voice cut him off "Step back from me, please, leave me be, this so deceitful road that I stumble on is never going to end." her voice was soft, before suddenly increasing again.

"It's getting difficult to maneuvour and it's just worthless to try and run away, so I'll just hold my hands over my ears and block out all this noise. How can I live not knowing what life is? Sometimes my dreams seem to be more realistic, obviously I can't be called happy, then what am I after all? "

The way Robin sang felt like she was talking directly to the three men in the room with her and left them speechless.

She gently put the lid on the piano keys and quietly stood up, drying her hands on her skirt. Muttering a quiet thank you to Mozart she made a beeline towards the exit, trying to get away from the situation and probable interrogation as quickly as humanly possible.

A certain Japanese writer caught her sleeve before Robin could slip past him "That was truly beautiful Toshiko-san." he said with a smile, although the tone of his voice was nothing but serious "But if you ever need to talk... My windows are always open." joked Dazai at the end, prompting a chuckle out of her. Arthur and Mozart stayed silent, neither of them being the type of person one would come confess to.

"Thank you Dazai, really, but...I'm alright." and with a smile she was gone. But neither of the men could believe her words.

The thought came out of nowhere.

Momentary relapse

Now would be a good time to do it.

And so she did. She tied two scarves together and put them in a bag, ready to go.

The middle of the night, the sky clear, stars littered the black canvas like pearls. Would this be any other night, she would stop and admire the view above her, but tonight everything that didn’t have to do anything with her goal was a potential distraction that could change her mind.

Her brain already decided she was gonna do it and she went along with it, chickening out now would only be cowardiness, Robin thought. And if there was anything she learned from the geniuses she residet with, it was bravery.

Tiptoeing out of her room, Robin quietly crept through the hallway past all the resident’s rooms.

A muffled melody could be heard in the music room and light shone from under Arthur’s door. They must be still up, thought Robin and it made her feel strange. Would they realize tommorow morning that she must’ve went past them while they were still awake? Would they feel guilty? She hoped not. It would be best if they just forgot she ever existed.

Robin wasn’t naive. She knew she was loved and very much so, she also knew that by ending her life she would hurt those who loved her, but they were strong, stronger than she was anyway, maybe it would take a while, but they would get over it eventually.

Once she was out in the garden, Robin breathed a tired sigh of relief. Focusing only on her way she made her way through the garden, towards the forest surrounding the mansion. How hard could it be? You just have to find the right tree, pick a branch strong and high enough, tie the end of the noose around it, put your head through the actuall noose and the rest is easy, right? She could figure it out once she gets there, it’s not like anyone was following her.

“Ehm. Where are you going?”

Too soon. Robin winced. She was so consumed by her thoughts that she didn’t notice Isaac stargazing in the garden. Stupid, she reprimanded herself You should’ve expected something like this. It’s okay, you can lie your way through this.

“Hi Isaac.” she smiled her best smile at him. It felt strange, acting so casually while her end was nearing.

The air between them grew awkward, so Isaac coughed slightly and said “It’s not like it’s my business or anything, I was just surprised to see you here, and so...” his voice grew quieter as his confidence dissapeared. Mary smiled a him “It’s alright, I was just going in the forest for a stroll.” Isaac lifted an eyebrow “In the middle of the night?” “Yes, it will be an adventure! The forest can be quite spooky at night.” she grinned in response.

The physicist looked towards the dark woods, then back at his friend. “I will acompany you, if that’s okay.” Robin blinked at him in surprise. This wasn’t how it should’ve gone! He would only complicate things! But saying no could be suspicious. While Isaac took her surprised look as confusion “There could be wild animals and knowing you, you would definitely get in trouble.”

His words nearly made her cry. Once again she was reminded of how much she was actually loved. And so she agreed.

Side by side they walked deeper and deeper into the woods. While Isaac was looking up at the sky, Robin inspected all the threes around them. “We’re pretty deep in, how would you know your way back?” the man beside her wondered. Robin’s heart dropped. How was she supposed to answer to that? Maybe if I stay quiet, he’ll drop it. But that didn’t seem to be the case. “Well?” Isaac turned his head towards her.

“Uhh...I-I don’t know.” she shrugged her shoulders and laughed nervously. Isaac squinted his eyes and looked at her with a strange expression on his face. “What do you have in that bag anyways?” he asked curiously. Robin quickly shoved her bag behind her back to hide it from view, as if that would make him forget about it “Nothing important, really.” she quickly said. Perhaps too quickly. “What time is it?” she changed the subject.

Isaac blinked at her in surprise, then looked towards the sky once again “It’s close to midnight I think.” he muttered. “Well then, shouldn’t you be getting back? I mean, I don’t want you to starve, just because you’re too considerate.” Robin pushed on. “What about you?” Isaac asked as Robin started pushing him in the direction of the mansion. “Oh don’t worry about me for once. I remember the way.” she waved him off, said a quick goodbye and sent him on his way.

Isaac didn’t like that at all. Surely if she didn’t want to spend time with him she’d tell him, no? He just wanted to keep her company, since he heard from an unusually glum Dazai she hasn’t been feeling very happy lately.

Now that he thought about it, there were some red flags in his mind and the whole situation left him suspicious. Deciding to trust his gut more than logic, Isaac turned around and went to look for Robin, all the while trying to push the worst scenario out of his head.

He found her not far from the place he departed from her. She was facing a tree, holding something in her hands... "Robin?” he called out to her softly. Said woman jumped around, revealig her pale face and the object she was holding. 

A noose.

“What are you doing?!” he asked, panicked, his worst fears confirming. Robin’s face was hard as steel, determined look in her eyes. Perfectly composed, she stuffed the deadly instrument back into her bag, marching past him towards the mansion “Nothing.”

Isaac, bewildered, quickly jogged up to her “Well, you were about to do something.” “Well, not anymore.” she huffed. “So what, you try to kill yourself and then pretend it didn’t happen?” “Yes, exactly. It was a momentary relapse, it won’t happen again.”

“I don’t want to try anymore Isaac. I’m tired. It’s been six months and things are only getting worse and worse. I’m not strong enough for this, I don’t need this, I never asked for this.” the longer she talked, the more rapid and shakier her voice became. He only squeezed her tighter “We’ll think of something.” he tried to assure her. “And what do you want to do? Isaac, this is not something temporary, not even the doctors in my time can do much about this! I don’t even know what’s wrong with me!”

Isaac quickly jumped in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. Robin turned her head down so she could avoid his gaze and pursed her lips. “You’re right. It won’t. I won’t ever let it get that far again.” Isaac told her quietly and firmly, drawing her into a hug.

The physicist quietly shushed her and slowly rubbed her back as she trembled in his embrace. He maybe looked composed but on the inside he was panicking. Truly, he didn’t know what to do. He would probably ask Comte or Leo, hell, even Arthur if that helped. They were certainly wiser or more suitable for this kind of problem. But he’d help however he could. Call it selfishness, but he would do anything to keep her here just a while longer.

Art p.1

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x OC

Summary: Vincent meets the weird kids of Clone high - the poets.

Warnings: teenage awkwardness

A/N: I started watching Clone high ironically, but got too invested and so I am going to try and soothe my mind from the ending and my favourite character having little to no screentime by creating an OC. Enjoy and tell me if you’d like to see more of them!

Lunchtime at Clone high was the only time Vincent felt content and relaxed. 

He didn’t have many friends, nor was he popular, quite the opposite actually, his timid and quiet nature made him an easy target for the self-proclaimed gods of the school, like JFK. And contact is very hard to make when you automatically expect a rejection...

So naturally, Vincent really enjoyed every moment he got to spend around people without actually having to talk to any of them. Not that he’d consider any of the people occupying the table his friends. He never talked to them, outside or during school. The only thing that connected these so different people was that they were, in fact, seen as “nerds” or “losers”.

Still, listening to Newton and Edison argue about something he didn’t even bother to understand, while peacefully eating his lunch was something Vincent found relaxing.

This peaceful moment however, was soon interrupted by another person sitting hurriedly at the table.

“Edgar Allan Poe? What are you doing here?” asked Darwin in surprise, who, too, frequently occupied the “loser table”.

“Listen guys, I need your help.” said Poe, slightly out of breath. Edgar was a strange guy. Nobody really knew if he was a writer or a poet and he probably didn’t know either. Although he normally didn’t sit with the total outcasts, they never rejected him whenever he’d visit. They never really rejected anyone to be frank.

Poe liked to dress in really dark clothes. Somewhere between emo and goth, but unlike Joan, he was really commited to his aethetic. There hasn’t been a day that you wouldn’t see Edgar without his pale makeup on.

“Well, what’s the matter?” asked Edison, his argument with Newton interrupted by Poe’s arrival.

“Well, the poets are going to hang out and I need someone to bring with me!” wailed Poe. “Why don’t you just go alone?” asked Newton, waving his hand nonchalantly.

“Alone?! Have you ever hung out with the poets, Newton?!” Poe exclaimed in disbelief. “No, I haven’t. Because I’m a scientist. Listen, we’d like to help you, but you’re crying at the wrong table.” answered Isaac, who was getting annoyed. “Why don’t you just bring one of the writers?” asked Darwin, the others nodding in agreement. “Ah, I already tried, but nobody can stand them! Please guys, they’re not that bad, I promise!” Poe looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg. Edison snickered “Did you beg your writer friends like this too?” which prompted everybody to laugh.

Poe’s shoulders slumped “Well, thanks a lot guys.” he muttered sarcastically, before his eyes fell upon Vincent, who was pretending to be anywhere but not at the table. Poe’s face lit up “Vincent! You’re an artist, no? Sure you’d like to come with me?”

Everybody turned to face the quiet painter. This is exactly what Vincent did not want, to be the center of attention. He really didn’t want to go. From what he’s heard, what poets lack in their numbers, the compensate with eccentric personalities. He really did not want to judge someone he’s never met, but he had a feeling he would not do well around those people. But now everybody was staring at him, waiting for his response. Vincent could barely think things through under so much pressure-

“O-of course I’ll go!” his voice cracked and he could only laugh awkwardly, regretting those words the instant they left his mouth. “Splendid!” cheered Poe “I’ll pick you up at your dorm after school! Until then!” And thus, Poe left the table.

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I’m not sure if I like this, so if you’d like a continuation, please tell me.

Beautiful things

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x reader

Summary: A walk with your favourite classmate turns into a confession.

Warnings: fluff that may rot your teeth

A/N: I know very well that oc fics are amazing, but we all need some reader inserts with this tiny dood. And I am here to satiate your hunger. Requests are open!

An artist hungry for revenge. What crimes will he commit?

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Vincent van Gogh. The man who owned your heart. No, not the original van Gogh, but rather his clone and coincidentally your classmate.

Your friends often asked you just why did you like him and you could offer them only a shocked stare, your eyebrows raising nearly to the top of your head.

How could you not like him?? You might sound cliche, but he just... he just wasn't like other guys. There was just something about the way he held himself, that awkward, shy appearance of his that made him look so adorable.

Or the way he concentrated while working on his masterpieces. His face might not tell much, but you could see the plethora of emotions swirling inside those blue wells you liked so much to get lost in.

Or the way he never rejected anyone's presence, even though he rarely talked to anyone who happened to be close to him.

And his smile...Oh, his smile.

It rarely showed and yet, when you were lucky enough to see it, you instantlu melted into a puddle and the only thing you could feel were the butterflies in your stomach. And you just wished you could be the reason of his smile.

After a long, long period of pining (that you later on found out was mutual) you finally mustered enough courage to tell him all this.

He probably wasn't expecting such a detailed confession and in the end you both ended up in tears, tears of love.

You loved to watch him paint, because it was his passion and he loved to capture you and your passion into one of his paintings.

As good as van Gogh's portraits were, you could not unsee his love for nature. If he could, he would spent all his free time outside, just...existing.

It was summer break now, perfect time for new couples to bond. So far you went on many amazing dates together, but last time you proposed that on the next date you two could just kick back and relax.

Your tiny boyfriend immediately perked up, saying that he knows the perfect spot. And how could you say no to those excited blue eyes of his?

One love text messages filled week later you found yourself waiting for Vincent near his house. He looked so handsome in his brown boots, straw hat and a brown messenger bag, you couldn't help but hug him tightly to your chest. Fortunately he didn't mind, feeling comfortable enough to snuggle up to your chest.

Vincent took your hand and sheepishly said "It's a bit of a walk, but you don't mind right?" You smiled and shook your head. How bad could a walk be?

"Vincent, when you said 'a walk', I didn't think it would mean a tour!" you said jokingly, huffing a laugh as sweat rolled down your forehead. Normally you wouldn't mind a 45 minute walk through nature, especially not with Vincent as your company, but the hot weather was killing you.

"I know, I know, but trust me, it'll be worth it once we get there! You'll see!" Stammered the young clone apologetically from few meters ahead of you.

Roughly ten minutes later Vincent jogged up to you, excited like a puppy "Alright, close your eyes (Y/N), and don't open them until I tell you." You did as he said and the next thing you feel is Vincent taking your hand and tugging you through the forest you were currently walking through.

"Van Gogh, I swear to God, if I fall because of you, you're a dead man, understand?" From in front of you you heard him say "Loud and clear!" and then he mumbled a warning about a root you were approaching.

It wasn't long before you could feel sun hitting your closed eyes and you couldn't help but scrunch up your face, to which Vincent giggled accompanied by that cute snort of his.

He let go of your arm and stood next to you as he said in a low voice "Alright, you can open them."

And the view sure was worth it, you had to give him that. You had no idea how the hell did Vincent find this place, but to find a place so pretty in this time was difficult.

Vincent led you to a lovely opening, a quiet meadow in the middle of woods, with a small pond a bit ahead of you.

"Wow, you truly outdone yourself van Gogh." you said in awe "How come you haven't painted this place? I'm sure it would look amazing." you turned to look at him. Vincent shrugged "Haven't had the time yet."

You nodded and wiped the sweat off your brow. Then you turned to look at the pond "How deep do you think it is?" Vincent turned to look with you and shrugged "Not much, it's more of a big puddle than anything."

But that was enough for you. Soon enough the two of you were sitting on the edge of the small pond or...really big puddle, as Vincent called it, your legs resting comfortably in the cool water. You guessed that there could be water up to your knees and loads of mud that could swallow you whole.

As you made yourself comfortable on the fluffy meadow grass, Vincent sat next to you and pulled a sketchbook out from the messenger bag he carried all the way here.

"You could've painted it today, y'know?" you told him, but he only shook his head "No, I want to concentrate on us today." he said as he started sketching the little piece of heaven. "And you'll remember how it looks here?" Vincent only nodded his head.

The atmosphere was peaceful, almost lulling you to sleep, the only sounds being the slight hum of the wind blowing through trees and the scratching of Vincent's pencil. It was....beautiful.

Suddenly a question came up in your mind. You turned to look at your beloved boyfriend "What do you think is beautiful Vincent?"

Vincent stopped sketching at looked at you in slight surprise, caught off guard by this particular question. He thought for a bit before responding "Well, nature is very beautiful. And all the moments I spend with you are beautiful. And...When those two combine like this...That's even more beautiful."

A stupid smile formed on your face, your cheeks heating and the urge to smother him in love becoming irresistible.

"Well what about you?" Vincent piped up.

"I also think nature is beautiful." you said slowly, Vincent nodding in agreement "Literature is also beautiful... But I guess the most beautiful thing in my world...is you."

Vincent whipped his head to look at you, his cheeks turning bright red "What, what do you mean? How?" he said meekly.

You smiled sweetly at him "Well, you yourself are so beautiful in so many ways, inside and outside. And when I'm with you, all those beautiful things that are sometimes so hard to see, are even better, just because of you." You started waving your hands in the air, showing him what you mean, not noticing the small tears welling up in his eyes "It's like there's all the beautiful stuff" you made a big circle in the air with your arms "and in the center, like kings in those medieval paintings, is you."

You barely had any time to properly breathe in, when Vincent laid down next to you, hugging you tightly and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, which quickly became wet with tears.

You slowly pulled your legs out of the pond, draping one of them over Vincent, one of your arms sneaking around him, the other tangling in his hair as you pressed soft kisses to the crown and top of his head and bandages, doing whatever you could to not shed tears yourself.

And as you held each other in the quiet piece of heaven, there was nowhere you'd rather be.

Okay, Hi! I'm not sure if you're taking requests at the moment but is it okay that I ask for a lil something? So, I've been looking for Vincent Van Gogh x Readers FOR EVER and can never find any. If I can, can I request a Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High) x Reader? Maybe a clone of a great artist (made up haha) and is struggling with living up to their legacy? Good make for some good Angst/Fluff 😶

I gotchu! It's in my bio if anything 😉 Before I write this, here you have other amazing blogs that have written/are writing for Vin from Clone high:

@tearsofaclonehighfan

@clone-high-imagines

@thesfwwildsophia

Perfect in his eyes

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x reader

Summary: Your art teacher is a mean prick who definktely shouldn't teach art. When he startd to compare you to the famous artist, which you are a clone of, you can't take it. Luckilly, Vincent won't let you suffer alone.

Warnings: insecurities, panic attack, bullying by teacher

A/N: (O/N) - original person's name, I hope this isn't too long for you 😅

Let happy Vinny bring you comfort 😌

* * * * *

Being an artist was...nice, most of the time. Most of your lessons were pretty chill and you could really use your imagination and come up with new, interesting ideas and test your skills with each new piece.

Yeah, being an artist was pretty cool...

Until you got an assignment that is.

Most of your classmates never had any problems with assignments, some of them even preferred being given a topic for a drawing or a painting, but not you.

You hated being given a track that your piece had to follow. You loved to be creative with what you do and so the mundane topics like 'nature' 'city' 'a portrait' felt more like handcuffs than something to spike inspiration in you.

So naturally, you tried to push these boundaries as far as you could, just to see how much you could deviate from the original task.

The teachers, of course, didn't like that at all.

Another assignment turned in, another time period of waiting for the results. Another art class and yet another scolding...

"I would like for our dear (Y/N) to stand up, but only, of course, if that doesn't restrain their creativity." those were the teasing words of your teacher, dripping eith venom.

Not trying to agitate the man even more, you slowly stood up, looking him right in the eye with defiance. "I don't know how standing up would restrain my creativity." you said lowly, trying to match his venomous tone "But I know a thing that would." you finished with a smirk.

Your teacher sighed, trying to stay calm "As you all know" he adressed the class "the theme of your work was 'lovers'." he turned his attention back to you "Would you be so kind, (Y/N), and explain what is this?!" he held up your piece of three skeletons, dressed in elegant robes, dancing the night away while gazing lovingly at each other. Well...as much as they could...

"Those are lovers who even death didn't do apart." you calmly explained. "And why exactly are there three of them?" your teacher raised his eyebrows. You just shrugged "Why wouldn't there be?"

The man just huffed from the comfort of his chair and shook his head "When I said the theme was 'lovers', I meant it as real lovers. As if a realistic piece! Real people! I'm grading this work an F."

Now that made you angry. Not only did he interrogate you every time you handed in a new piece, but now he wants to grade it poorly even though you worked your ass off to create this? Seriously?? Does he know how many allnighters you had to pull to make it perfect?? "You told us to get creative!" You complained, done with this mans bullshit.

Your teacher looked apalled. How dare you raise your voice at him?! "I didn't mean-" But you wouldn't give him the chance to finish "Like that. You wanted us to get creative, but no, not like that. That's too much. Too creative. You're too close to being original and open minded individuals!" you mocked him, fake fright in your voice.

Your teacher, sensing you had him cornered, but refusing to let a teenager win, tried to blabber out "Well, if I'd let everyone do as they please, I wouldn't have to bother setting a theme!" "And maybe that would be for the better!"

Suddenly, a dark look set in his face. Your teacher abruptly stood up and slammed his hands on his desk "I am very dissapointed by your attitude! Do you know where will your disobedience get you? Do you?! Out on the street, that's where!"

His shouting made you flinch. When your teacher saw that, he smiled triumphantly. He was getting to you. With an almost sadistic satisfaction, he decided to push on "What do you think (O/N) would think of you, huh? Just think about how dissapointed she'd be in you. You've been given such a great talent and instead of pursuing (O/N)'s legacy you only do what you want. Do you think that's really necessary (Y/N)?"

You couldn't stand it. The fake honey like tone in his voice, the fake interest in you as a person. How he compared you to (O/N), as if tou weren't your own fucking person, but just a clone.

Your stomach twisted at the feeling of all of your classmates' eyes on you, waiting for a smart rebuttal, but you couldn't form a coherent sentence.

Everybody was still looking at you! Couldn't the teacher just tell you to sit already? Breathing was becoming harder by the second, you could feel cold sweat sprout on you forhead, your throat was dry like a desert and everybody was still. Looking. At. You.

And so you ran.

You bolted out of your seat, forgetting all about your stuff, and rushed out of the classroom.

You couldn't see it, but your teacher had a smile on his face, too drunk on his victory to see the tears streaming down your face or the obvious signs of an oncoming panic attack.

Meanwhile you made it around the corner, before your legs gave up. Luckily, you could fit yourself under the school staircase leading to another floor.

You huddled up next to the wall and hugged your knees to your chest, finally letting the tears freely flow.

You remained in the same position even after the bell rang and the halls were swarmed with students. You managed to calm down a little bit, but the lesson was playing in your head over and over and every time it did, new flow of tears came out.

Before you could start panicking about next lessons and how you were going to mask that you've been crying, let alone face your classmates, a familiar shy voice softly called out to you "Hey, uh, are you ok?" the voice said as you felt a tiny body slide next to you.

You rubbed your eyes to see more clearly over the tears and saw your tiny classmate, Vincent.

He looked worried as he scanned you over with those adorable blue eyes of his, his lips pursed into a thin line, his orange hair sticking out fromhis bandages.

"What are you doing here, Vinc? You'll be late for class." you hiccupped and turned your head away from him, facing the wall.

Vincent only shook his head "Doesn't matter, I just want to make sure you're ok." he searched for more words "That was pretty terrible back there."

As if on cue, at the mention of the incident in class, a new flow of tears made their way out of your eyes. "Please don't talk about it." you croaked, voice choked by your tears. The tiny redhead rapidly shook his head.

For a while, both of you were silent. You were desperately trying not to break down against Vincent and he was wrecking his brain, trying to find a way to soothe you at least a little bit.

"Do you...wanna talk about it?" he asked uncertainly, afraid to worsen your state. You sniffed for a bit and burried your head in your knees "I overreacted I guess..." you sighed "I just...He was right. I'll never be like them. I never was even remotely like them, not personality-wise, not even artistically-wise. I'm really not doing them any justice Vinc." you forced it out of yourself before sobbing again.

You felt the tiny painter lean against you and then he muttered "That doesn't have to be a bad thing, y'know?" You turned your head to look at him, one eyebrow quizzicaly raised. "I mean, look at me." Vincent chuckled and gestured to himself "I'm probably too much like the original van Gogh..." suddenly, Vincent slouched a little "Sometimes I wish I could be someone else. Maybe life wouldn't be as hard as it is."

You couldn't help but hug him. Vincent made a startled sound at that unexpected contact, but relaxed after a second and snuggled more into you. "Don't say shit like that, Vin. You're perfect the way you are. And I wouldn't want you any different." You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

"That applies to you too, y'know?" he mumbled into your chest, looking up at your face.

You giggled, your tearstained cheeks turning apple like red. And at that moment you two decided to ditch school and just stay there.

Just two teens, perfect for each other.

Heyyy!! I rlly love your account, could you do a clone high Van Gogh x reader?? I love the lil guy so much and cant find much content about him :(

could the reader be a closed off person who doesn’t let many people into their life or get close to them, I have a hard time letting down my walls so something about Vincent just approaching the reader and shyly starting a conversation and the reader rlly liking him and letting him into their life would be rlly nice

also if the reader could be an artist or writer that would be cool :) no problem if you don’t wanna do it!!

A thousand times yes!

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x gn!reader

Warnings: use of they/them pronouns (putting this here just in case)

A/N: Ok, this was requested when requests were closed, but I kept it, just because I haven't written anything for Clone high in a long time, so consider yourself lucky :D Also this really reminds me of my Clone high oc, Art. So if you'd like to read about them, you can find the first two parts on my masterlist <3

(Y/N) - your name

(Y/S) - your surname

Another day, another lunch.

Another time spent by him starting at them from afar.

Others might say they weren't that interesting, but Vincent couldn't disagree more.

They met during one of his art classes. They came in to model and Vincent immediately felt drawn to them, despite not being sure why. It was everything about them that made him curious, something he wasn't used to. Especially with other people, since most of the time they made him wary more than anything.

But not them, no. Everything about them was peculiar, their pose, their expression, their eyes...oh god, their eyes. There was so much hidden emotion in them, it made Vincent feel like an explorer in front of a new adventure or a curious child standing in front of a dark forest.

After that fateful class, he found out he noticed them around more. Like in the school caffeteria for example. They always sat alone or with a small group of friends, but they always seemed reserved or didn't talk at all. Sometimes a very scary frown blossomed on their face at a sensitive question or a remark that hit too close to home.

And each lunch did Vincent sit just a tad closer to their usual table, but never quite gaining the courage to fully face his classmate.

But this day, he made up his mind. He was going to talk to them. No buts, no excuses. And so before he gave himself the chance to talk himself out of it yet again, he got up and marched straight to their table with a determined expression set on his stubbly face.

He stopped right next to them, his lunch in hand. They quietly raised their head and looked at him with an unsure expression "Can I help you?" they asked. Vincent's determination instantly dissapeared as he got out, not without struggle "Is this seat taken?" he more mumbled than said and they smirked "Sure thing."

Vincent awkwardly sat across them, both continuing to eat their lunch in quiet. While Vincent was beating himself up for not knowing what to say next, they took a bite out of their lunch and raised their head once again "I remember you." Vincent whipped his head up from his meal to look at them "Re-really?" he asked, shocked. They noticed him? When? Oh god, he hoped they hadn't noticed him staring at them.

His worries were soothed soon enough though, when they said "Yeah, you're van Gogh, right? I remember you from art class when I volunteered to pose that one time." Vincent blushed and shyly asked "How do you know my name?" they grinned "Dude, everyone was talking about you when you made that sick painting of Gandhi that one time!" they exclaimed and giggled. If Vincent wasn't blushing then, he sure was now.

"Yeah, can't stand the guy." he mumbled and looked to the side. They only shrugged "He's alright. He can be a douchebag sometimes though." they nodded. After that, they looked teasingly at Vincent "Any other questions?" Vincent kept looking away as he nodded his head "What's your name?" They were quite shocked, not expecting such kind of a question. But Vincent seemed innocent enough, so they figured telling him their name wouldn't hurt "(Y/N) (Y/S)."

At the sound of their name, Vincent perked up "(Y/S?) Like the writer (Y/S)?" they laughed softly at his enthusiasm "Yeah..."

After that day, Vincent kept meeting (Y/N) at lunch, eventually mustering up the courage to ask if they want his number, to which they agreed, much to his joy. They texted each other nearly every day, if they didn't have any exams to study for. After some time they started meeting outside of school too, making various trips to gain inspiration, (Y/N) for their writing, Vincent for his painting.

Just as Vincent's feelings for the writer blossomed, so did (Y/N)'s feelings for the short painter. He was sweet, kind and most importantly genuine. He respected their boundaries and so did they when it came to his. There was just so much mutual understanding in their friendship, they felt like they had known him forever and they only hoped he felt the same. But they were scared. They were hurt by their closest ones in the past, who's to say that won't happen with Vincent too? They knew what he did to Gandhi, even though the little jerk deserved it.

They felt scared and insecure. But they couldn't get Vincent out of their head. Even their writing was starting to center around him. Finally, they told themselves they had to put a stop to this madness.

So (Y/N) did the only thing they could think of. They approached the only person they could trust. This person earned their trust and it took a long time for (Y/N) to open up to them, and they still weren't at a point where they would trust that person with their life, but they were very close. Close enough they trusted them with their love troubles.

After hanging out with them for the afternoon, they agreed that you only live once and that they should go for it and not worry about the outcome.

So when in the evening (Y/N) came home, they sat at their desk and started writing away all their feelings. They meant for it to be a short note, but it turned out longer than expected, their whole heart poured onto the paper. (Y/N) sighed and with trembling hands they put the note, or should we say letter, into a envelope.

The next day they came to school early so that they could drop the note into Vincent's locker. Then they hid just behind the corner to see his reaction, curiousity eating away at them.

Finally, the man of the hour arrived. He unlocked his locker, when (Y/N)'s letter fell out. They watched as Vincent oh so carefuly opened the envelope and unfolded the letter within. They saw his eyes scan the paper once, twice, slowly welling up with tears as he did.

(Y/N) quietly tiptoed behind him and after he was done and only clutched the piece of paper to his chest, they coughed. Vincent whirled around, a big, toothy smile blooming on his face. Quickly he threw himself into their embrace, not caring if anyone saw, that great was his joy. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!!!" he cried into their chest. As the two now lovers embraced each other, a letter fell gracefully to the ground.

Dear Vincent,

There is something sitting heavy on my chest and has been for a while now. It seems my heart decided to let you in, although I tried to fight it many times. Your kindness, empathy and caring personality tore the doors to my soul open, only for you to waltz right in and make yourself at home. My mind is open to you, every secret I kept locked is now yours too. I only wish you let me share your heart, just like I am ready to share mine. It is you who holds the key to my heart now, your new forever home. Do you wish to enter?

Love,

(Y/N)