he's the most beautiful man ever

Can we talk about how Drogo only “loved” Dany because she was beautiful and was pregnant with HIS son.

Daario only “loved” her because she was beautiful and because of her dragons.

But Jon loves her not because she is the most beautiful woman in the world, but because she has a good heart, he sees her for what she really is and because she’s not like everyone else.

Now excuse me while I cry in high valyrian, dothraki and the common tongue

Prompt: can you maybe do an injured Jon and arya taking care of him & being all angsty? Thanx

The first light of dawn tinged the clouds in a crimson hue. The sun rising majestically from behind the mountains and heralding the victory of all life on Earth.

It was perhaps one of the most beautiful sights anyone had ever seen in a long time. It was almost like a dream. A dream of life, a dream of spring.

The collective howl of a pack of wolves filled the surrounding forest. Ghost, Nymeria and Shaggydog answered their call with a song of their own. It should have been a joyous occassion. And yet it wasn’t. The losses had been too great. The horrors of the war still fresh in everyone’s mind.

Arya lowered her gaze to the unconscious man laying on the bedroll. He had been so for the past five days. The wound on his chest had stopped bleeding and yet he was still feverish. Maester Samwell had told her that all they could do now was wait.

But she didn’t want to wait. For all she had done in her life was wait. When she had been lost in Braavos, she waited for a chance to be reunited with him, to laugh with him and hear him finish her sentences. And when she came back to this very man who had risen from the dead with her name on his lips, she waited to be in his arms, to kiss him and to have him make love to her all night without having to fear about losing one another in the morning in this bloody war between the dead and the living.

A gust of wind blew open the tent flaps breaking Arya from her reverie. She tucked the furs more firmly around his prone form and brushed his lips with hers. She smiled a little when she remembered the battle eve.

He had been almost animalistic with her in his demands that night and had shattered her over and over again, only to make her whole with his love. He had caged her to him and murmured a promise in her ear. A promise of having a lifetime together.

And yet here he was, lying frail and motionless.

Suddenly Arya shivered though not from cold. An old lesson that she had learnt at Harrenhal all those years ago rang in her ears. Valar Morghulis. All men must die.

“ No. ” she said vehemently “ You can’t have him. For if you do, then I shall come to you myself and raise hell.”

She touched her forehead to his then and murmered against his lips, “ Come back. You have to come back. For Bran who is brave enough to wear the crown, for little Rickon who tries to find father in you, for Sansa who still believes in heroes, for the Silver Queen who will drive herself mad with guilt if you don’t. And for…For…”

She bit her lip hard when she felt her eyes welling up with tears. “Stupid girl ” she scolded herself “ be strong.”

Arya gently brushed away his curls and whispered in his ear “ Come back to me Jon. Come back for I have something to tell you.”

“ Come back. Come back for the seed you planted in my womb. Come back for your child.”

And as if he had been listening, Arya Stark felt Jon Targaryen stirring back to the land of the living.

———————————————

note: @anon hi! Sorry for taking so long, but I am going thru a writer’s block, and this is all i can manage for now. Thank you for the prompt and I hope you liked it.

i bet the reason why finn has so many fans in the resistance is because the entire time he was unconscious poe’s been going around telling the story of how he saved him and bb-8 and the galaxy like “and then just as i thought i was really going to die he WHIPPED off his helmet and THERE he was, THE most beautiful man i’ve ever seen,”

2

Standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Everything about the stranger radiated sensual grace and ease. High Fae, no doubt. His short black hair gleamed like a raven’s feathers, off-setting his pale skin and blue eyes so deep they were violet, even in the firelight. They twinkled with amusement as he beheld me.

His clothes - all black, all finely made - were cut close enough to his body that I could see how magnificent he was. As if he’d been molded from the night itself.

We talk a lot about Yuuri having to reconcile his idea of Viktor with the real Viktor–that is, Yuuri has this flawless, wonderful ideal of Viktor in his head which has to sort of be cut down to fit the person that Viktor really is. Which is a healthy part of their relationship, and which I completely agree is something Yuuri has to face at some point during that first summer.

But I think there’s also something to be said about Yuuri realizing that some of the horrible things he’s heard about Viktor through the skating community grapevine are not so true.

Yuuri, despite what he says, is much closer to is idol than most people ever get. If Viktor is a movie star, Yuuri is the secondary character–he’s there, and a lot of people definitely know he’s there, and he knows enough people who also know Viktor for the gossip mill to really get churnin sometimes.

I also think that at the back of every person who has ever had a celebrity crush’s mind is a little voice saying, “Never meet your heroes,” and Yuuri Katsuki is terrified of that little voice, and it contributes to the distance he keeps from Viktor–because at some point, that much distance from someone you’re facing off against in international competitions has got to be just a little bit purposeful.

So cue Viktor coming into his life all of a sudden one day, and all Yuuri can think about are the terrible awful no good very bad things people have told him about Viktor and the kind of person Viktor is.

“Fuck Viktor Nikiforov,” an older skater had told him after Skate America, six glasses into a box of wine and bitter as hell about missing the podium. “No, really, fuck him. The Russians are paying off the ISU to keep him at the top. He isn’t even that talented. I hear–I hear he doesn’t even train. I hear he just shows up and fucking does whatever and they give him gold because he’s Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I…don’t think…” Yuuri frowned at his own glass of wine. “I mean…that couldn’t be true.” He glances at Phichit next to him. “Could it?”

“Sour grapes,” Phichit advises, and Yuuri isn’t as familiar with English idioms at that point, so he thinks Phichit is talking about the wine.

Yuuri mostly forgets about it, but somewhere in the back of his mind–he can’t stop thinking about it. He watches and rewatches Viktor’s old programs and wonders to himself if the reason he thinks they’re so good is because he’s watching them through rose-tinted glasses.

Yuuri and Phichit are suffering through finals and trying to survive through twenty-hour days of nothing but studying and skating. They lay themselves on the bleachers one afternoon while they’re supposed to be doing warm ups.

“What if I just quit school and became and underwater basket weaver,” Yuuri mumbles directly into the metal seat of the bleacher. “That would be fine, right?”

“WWVND,” Phichit replies. “What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do.”

“You’re right,” Yuuri sighs.

“Viktor Nikiforov is dumber than a box of rocks,” says of the other members of the club as she skates by. “You know he never even finished high school? I mean, what counts as high school in a country like Russia. The guy probably thinks two plus two equals borscht.”

“That’s not…” Yuuri smushes his nose against the bleacher. “Hey, that’s not…”

“FUCK OFF OLIVIA,” Phichit shrieks across the rink, and Celestino definitely hears. They have to do twenty minutes of line drills. 

“What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do, right boys?” asks Olivia as she watches Yuuri try not to heave after Celestino finally releases them from their Sisyphean torture.

“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Phichit says, and he sounds so deeply serious that Yuuri is sincerely worried.

Several weeks later, someone mentions Viktor within earshot of Phichit and he jokingly says, “Watch what you say, that’s Yuuri’s future husband you’re talking about,” and it sort of makes Yuuri want to hit him but mostly makes Yuuri blush.

“Really?” replies that someone. “I don’t know about that, Yuuri. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a thirty foot pole. He sleeps around. Probably has all kinds of nasty stuff going on down there.”

“Oh, whatever,” Phichit says, rolling his eyes. “Like you would know.”

Yuuri ducks his head back into his book and tries not to think about it.

These are the things that Yuuri holds in the back of his mind about Viktor, the worries that travel with him anywhere he has even the chance of encountering Viktor Nikiforov. 

‘Never meet your heroes’ becomes something of the unspoken mantra of Yuuri’s life. 

Then Viktor Nikiforov catapults himself straight into Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri learns a few things.

Viktor trains. Viktor trains hard. Viktor has neglected everything but training and skating and satisfying his own frantic need to be the best for twenty years. Viktor Nikiforov is a lonely, sad bookworm with one friend and a gaping, yearning need to be touched–and he did not get to be where he is without making sacrifices. 

Yuuri has never met anyone who made more sacrifices for this sport and this art than Viktor Nikiforov. It opens something up inside of him, throbbing and raw. It makes Yuuri want to take Viktor’s heart and shove it inside his own chest so that it never feels cold or lonely again. It makes him want to stand on the top of a tall building somewhere and scream fuck you to every person he’s encountered whose jealousy tried to convince him that this man was less than what he is.

And yes, Yuuri knows now that Viktor is forgetful and brutally honest and often doesn’t say the right thing at the right time.

He knows that Viktor is only ambidextrous in that he can use a fork with both hands and that it takes him twenty minutes in the morning to decide on a shirt to wear. He knows that Viktor Nikiforov is a blanket hog and that if Yuuri wants to wake up still covered in the morning, they have to have no less than three blankets on the bed at all times.

He knows that Viktor sometimes descends into these loops of manic energy where he wants to do everything and can’t sit still and in those moments, Yuuri wants to lock him in a room and leave him there until he starts making sense again.

He also knows that Viktor Nikiforov has the most genuinely beautiful soul that Yuuri has ever had the opportunity to touch. He knows that very few people in his life will ever love him like Viktor, and that he himself has never felt for anyone quite what he feels for this man. His man. 

He knows these things and he thinks that maybe Viktor is perfect after all, perfect in his imperfection. Every jagged edge of his fits into one of Yuuri’s, and every curve of Yuuri’s lovingly presses flush with Viktor’s until they fit together seamlessly, like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Yuuri is also still a very petty person on the inside, though–which is why he makes posts on Instagram that read things like Viktor received his sixth well-deserved Russian National gold today! Congratulations to my amazing fiance.

And also:

So proud of my husband for all of his hard work commentating at the #Olympics. Some people go to school for half their lives and aren’t half as articulate as my Vitya. #Proudhubby

After that last one, Phichit leaves a voicemail on Yuuri’s phone that is literally just two whole minutes of him laughing hysterically and then wheezing, “THE SALT!” before hanging up.

“Yuuri, why did Phichit just sent me…sixteen crying laughing emojis and a text that says ‘your husband I can’t,’ in all caps?”

“Because a lot of people tried telling me you weren’t perfect and I’m proving them wrong,” Yuuri replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“Oh,” Viktor says, and literally crawls on top of him.

Yuuri supposes that the moral of the story is that the heart wants what the heart wants, and you have to find perfection in the imperfections–Viktor is loud and ditzy and forgets the English word for tomato on an almost daily basis, but he’s Yuuri’s husband. And because he’s Yuuri’s husband, he’s perfect.

I get really emotional when I think about all the damn stereotypes Magnus Bane is out here breaking tho. 

Like men shouldn’t wear makeup or be fashionable? Nah, fuck gender stereotypes! Magnus rocks that eyeliner, that eyeshadow, and that sexy ass goatee, and he’s the best dressed character on the show. 

Or men shouldn’t cry or be nurturing and soft? Nope, Magnus cries when he’s hurting and has openly talked about his struggles with depression that nearly led him to take his own life in the past. And he’s adopted a bunch of downworlders that he’s nurtured and cared for throughout his long lifetime. 

Or how about that old, outdated argument that claims men can’t be abused by women? Screw that, Camille Belcourt was an emotionally abusive woman who broke Magnus with her manipulation and mind games, and it took him centuries to finally overcome the hold she had on him.

Or that stereotype about bisexuality being “just a phase” for indecisive and promiscuous people. Hell to the no, son! Magnus Bane is over 300 years old and he has not changed his mind about his sexual identity. He’s openly attracted to all genders but the thing he wants most in the world is to be with someone he can share his love with for life. Because he’s a “one soul at a time kinda guy.”

And let’s not forget how Asian men are often desexualized or made into meek, submissive characters in media. But, no sir, not Magnus freakin Bane! He’s out here dancing and practicing magical tai chi shirtless, showing off his beautiful bod and being the most attractive and desirable man alive. He’s also extremely intimidating and commands respect and attention whenever he enters a room; he’s truly the definition of Alpha Male™.

This goes without saying but we are truly blessed to have a bisexual Asian character like Magnus Bane. He is so so so important, and don’t you ever forget it. 

I don’t play by the rules

Pairing: Peter parker x Stark! reader

Summary: Peter Parker falls hard for the new girl, and while he can’t do anything about it a certain masked hero might.

 word count: 2135

y/bf/n= Your best friend’s name

warnings: slight makeout? 

PART 2   PART 3

sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, hope you enjoy it! Please tell me what you thought about it! :) 

ALSO! I! AM! TAKING! REQUESTS! SO! SEND! THOSE! IN! :)

Originally posted by tomshollandss

It happened on a Tuesday. A regular day you might say, however it was the day everything changed for Peter Parker. There he was on his chemistry class thinking it was just another boring class, another wasted hour, at least he thought that until the door opened, revealing the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Standing in front of the class was Y/n Stark. Everybody knew who you were, your dad was Iron man, for God sake! You came in the classroom with a designer outfit and bag that was probably more expensive than Peter’s whole wardrobe.

Peter continued to watch you as the teacher told you to seat right at the front of the class. Not only were you a really pretty girl, with the brightest smile and the kindest eyes, but you also had to be very intelligent, since this was the Chemistry AP class. Well of course she is intelligent dumbass! Her father is Tony Stark! She has obviously been in his labs before!

After that first time he saw you everything went downhill. He could never gather the courage to talk to you, let alone ask you out, so he settled for watching you from afar. She probably thinks I’m a creeper, Peter thought, however he couldn’t bring himself to care. He could watch as your smile got bigger when someone told you a joke, and how your eyes will get particularly bright whenever you got a good grade at math. He didn’t care about anything else.

Not long after your arrival to the school he got his so-called “stark internship”,  or his role as Spiderman. This didn’t change much for him. He was still a nerd loser and you were still  a popular girl that was way out of his league.

“Seriously dude! how come you’ve never even said a word to her?” Ned asked Peter as they made their way into the gym.

“Is not that easy Ned! She doesn’t even know I exist!”

“But you are like, totally in love with Y/!” Peter quickly muffled Ned’s mouth, stopping the boy from saying anything else.

“Geez Ned! Don’t you want to shout it to the world?!” Peter started lowering his hand and headed towards the group of people exercising. “You can’t just go around saying that! Someone might hear you!”

“I’m sorry but, like, I still can’t believe it! Don’t you see her everyday? in the, you know, Stark Internship?”

Since Ned found out about Peter being Spider Man he had made questions non-stop, pretty ridiculous questions, if you asked Peter.

“Ned I don’t just hang out at the Avenger’s tower you know? I have to be on the streets! Besides, she is totally off limits I mean! She is Mr. Stark’s daughter! He would kill me if-”

“Shhh- SHhhhhh! Peter listen!”

This time he was the one to shut up as both boys listened to a conversation happening at the bleachers across them. It was Y/n, looking as beautiful as she always did, surrounded by her usual crowd.

“Sooo Y/n, you must be surrounded by all those superheroes at your house right? You know, because of your dad?

“Well not all the time, but yeah, they hang out pretty often” She responded, trying to sound chill about the topic. Not everybody noticed, but Peter knew just how tired she felt about having to talk about his dad and the avengers all the time. None of the people that followed her around really knew her. Yes they knew about her life and her family, but besides that no one seemed to take interest in getting to know her for real.

That was kind of the reason why he prefered to hide his identity. Well, that and the possibility of being kidnapped and killed.

“Are you friends with them?”  “Are they nice?” “Are they hot?” “Is Captain America a real blonde?”

A load of questions were asked at you, however one catched Peter’s attention again.

“Are you friends with spiderman? Do you know who he is?”

“I’ve actually never talked to him, he’s never at the tower when I’m there” she replied shrugging her shoulders. She really was clueless to the hero’s identity.

“Seriously Y/n? Weren’t you supposed to be Spiderman #1 fan?” Y/bf/n asked, as she wiggled her eyebrows at Y/n.

A blush spread to the girl’s cheeks as she smiled shyly. Of course she had a tiny crush with Spider Man (even though she didn’t have a clue of who he was), however he never seemed to hang around the tower as the other Avengers. Maybe he liked being alone.

The conversation was quickly dropped after the coach told them all to get back to work, however Ned was not done.

“Dude! She likes you!” You have to talk to her tonight!”

“She doesn’t like me! She likes Spider Man, not Peter, besides-”

“I swear to God that if you don’t make a move on her tonight I will stop being friends with you! You have to promise me you will try! Deal?

“Deal”

Could it be possible that the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on had a thing for him? Even if it was the suit she was in love with Peter couldn’t stop the smile that crept through his face all day and the knot he felt on his stomach every time he looked at Y/n.

And that is exactly why he found himself later that night ready to go talk to the girl of his dreams. He already knew the crew will be out with Mr Stark in some mission he was not allowed, so that cleared the way for him. And anyways he was always welcomed in the tower, at least that what they always told him.

“You can do this Peter, you got this”

Peter tried to give himself a little of motivation before knocking on your door,however he couldn’t find the strength to raise his hand and knock on it, he felt like a bundle of nerves! None of his previous fights or encounters had him feeling this way, he seriously needed to control himself! Peter tried once again to knock on the door only to be stopped when the door opened completely, revealing Y/n in her pj’s and her glasses, apparently ready to go to bed.

Both teenagers looked at each other with complete shook in the faces, one behind his mask of course. The girl was completely speechless, she couldn’t believe the Spider Man was in front of her! And had seen her in just some sweats! She blushed deeply as she realised her appearance.

Peter tried to think of something, anything to say to her, however he couldn’t seem to find the words. After a long silence Y/n finally broke the silence as she leaned against the door.

“I can’t believe Spider Man is at my door! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The girl was trying to keep it together, however she was still freaking out, but she couldn’t let her stupid crush affect her! This was her chance to get to know him! She could feel her flirtier side creeping up, trying to smile wider and lean closer to the boy.

“Well- I umhh- I just wanted to- you know- visit my favorite Stark” Peter said as he tried to recover from his initial shook.

“Then I guess you are looking for my dad, however he is not around”

“I actually meant you, I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time now”

The girl was surprised by what the boy had just said. Did he know her? How come they had never met before?

Y/n started moving inside her bedroom once again, looking over her shoulder to continue “Since I’ve got no plans for tonight you might want to hang for a while, you know, to get to know each other and stuff”

Peter did not need to be told twice before he followed her around and into her room. Well, bedroom was an understatement to what her place really looked liked. It seemed more like a apartment of her own, with a big tv are, followed by what appeared to be her studio with a shit ton of books and finally her actual bed. She went into the couch in front the TV as Peter followed her close behind. She finally seated down facing the boy.

“Why are you here with me right now and not saving the world as usual?”

“Can’t a man take a break every once in awhile? Besides, I’m pretty sure your dad is taking care of that at the moment”

“You are probably right, sooo anyways..You said you had wanted to meet me for a long time, so here I am, what is it that you wanna know?”

“Well nothing in particular- it’s just that- you are- you are a really beautiful girl”

The girl felt herself blush at the words of the boy behind the mask. He probably did have a thing for her then? There was only one way to find out the truth.

Y/n leaned closer to Peter, looking into what she supposed were his eyes and took him by the shoulder as she played with the curls in the back of his head.

“So you think I’m a beautiful girl?” She said with a teasing voice, trying to make the boy a little nervous, obviously succeeding.

“The most gorgeous I’ve meet”

Peter could say this without any hesitation. Right in front of him was the most beautiful girl on earth. Her big eyes were looking at him and she was even closer than before, he was getting kind of nervous, but her fingers in his hair kept him just in place, right where she wanted him.

“So if I’m so beautiful, how come you’ve never paid me a visit before?”

She had started talking in mere whispers, now moving her other hand into his chest, playing with the material of his suit.

“I wanted to!- I totally wanted to but- you know your dad’s rules right? I’m not really allowed to”

She started to lift his mask, revealing only his mouth before saying.

“Well Spider-boy, you should already know I don’t play by my father’s rules”

Right after she finished she crashed her lips into Peter’s making the boy let out a surprised gasp. He was kissing her! They were kissing! He couldn’t believe it!

Meanwhile the girl was feeling exactly the same. She didn’t knew where she got the guts to do it, but she was glad she did.

His fingers sanked  into her hair as they continued kissing, Peter finally out of his trance brought his other hand to the girl’s face and cupped it, deepening the kiss further.

He felt himself biting into the girl’s lips, as a quiet moan escaped her lips. Y/n pulled apart only to straddle his hips with her thighs and roll her hips along the way, giving them both a little of the friction they needed, but not enough.

Peter grabbed her waist trying to pull her closer to him, his hand making their way to her legs, touching and stroking her thighs. They were heavy breathing, kissing longer, harder, rougher. Both teenagers tried to take and taste as much as possible, urgent and desperately, fighting for dominance.

He pulled apart and went straight for her neck, sucking and biting, leaving what would sure become hickeys by the morning. His morning somewhat bored with her long legs moved to her hips once again, before sliding under her t-shirt and holding her closer, moving his hand right under her bra.

The soft whimpers that would leave her mouth every time he bite a specific part kept him going. Another movement yet another time they would feel that friction and that need to pull harder at the other.

Y/n as getting pretty tired of that stupid mask getting in the way, so she pulled apart ready to get it off him, however a noise down the kitchen distracted her. She heard her dad’s voice calling for her! The whole team was there already? How had they missed it?

Peter realised the situation as well  as he quickly pull stood up and headed towards the window.

“I really have to get going, I’m sorry!”

“Will I see you again?”

Peter pulled the girl close to him for one last kiss, a long lingering one. A kiss he had dreamed over and over again.

“Sooner than you think”

With this last words the boy pulled his mask down and disappeared through the window, swinging his way from building to building.

Man! He could not wait to tell Ned the good news!

2

To me, Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most popular, great painter of all time. The most beloved, his command of color most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.

Feyre

Feyre’s thoughts when first meeting Tamlin: I didn’t want to contemplate where I was going or what he would do with me. Running would be foolish until it was the right time.

Feyre’s thoughts when first meeting Rhysand: I stepped out of the shelter of my savior’s arm and turned to thank him.Standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.


Moral of the story, trust your instincts girls.

7

Doctor Who––Series 5, Episode 10: “Vincent and the Doctor”

“Between you and me, in a hundred words, where do you think Van Gogh rates in the history of art?”
“Well… um… big question. But, to me, Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly, the most popular, great painter of all time. The most beloved. His command of colour the most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.”

  • Yurio: *overhears a heated argument coming from Victor and Yuuri's room*
  • Yurio: *slams open the door* WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HE-
  • Victor: *arms folded* Yuuri is trying to tell me that I'M the most beautiful man alive
  • Yuuri: that's because you ARE. I MEAN HAVE YOU SEEN YOURSELF?
  • Victor: YES! I HAVE! That's why I can say with certainty you are THE MOST gorgeous person to EVER walk the face of the planet
  • Yuuri: Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov. ARE YOU SERIOUSare you forgetting who's made the cover of GQ on MULTIPLE OCCASIONS
  • Victor: oH that was just publicity for the ISU and you know it! Look at yourself. Right now. You're just RADIATING and don't even get me STARTED ON YOUR EROS
  • Yuuri: I was just mimicking YOU OH MY GOD. YURIO. TELL HIM HE'S MORE BEAUTIFUL
  • Victor: NO. Yurio tellHIM that HE'S more beautiful
  • Yurio: NO. YOU TELL ME WHY THIS MUST HAPPEN ON A WEEKLY BASIS
8

“To me Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most popular, great painter of all time. The most beloved, his command of colour most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.”

Doctor Who , Season 5 Episode 10 ,Vincent

Vincent Willem van Gogh ( 30 March 1853 – 29 July 1890) was a Dutch Post-Impressionist painter who is among the most famous and influential figures in the history of Western art. In just over a decade he created about 2,100 artworks, including around 860 oil paintings, most of them in the last two years of his life in France, where he died. They include landscapes, still lifes, portraits and self-portraits, and are characterised by bold colours and dramatic, impulsive and expressive brushwork that contributed to the foundations of modern art. His suicide at 37 followed years of mental illness and poverty.

Van Gogh suffered from psychotic episodes and delusions and though he worried about his mental stability, he often neglected his physical health. His friendship with Gauguin ended after a confrontation with a razor, when in a rage, he severed part of his own left ear. He spent time in psychiatric hospitals, including a period at Saint-Rémy. After he discharged himself he came under the care of the homeopathic doctor Paul Gachet. His depression continued and on 27 July 1890, Van Gogh shot himself in the chest with a revolver. He died from his injuries two days later.