Bloody Painter Fanart Novels & Stories

Cheeks wet from the tears a soft sob escaping from her lips only to be unheard even by the guy who is in the same room or a basement she assumed as there was no window around. One after the other the drop of blood dripped on the bucket as the boy with the grey eyes kept on painting over the canvas. The canvas is painted with deep red as the same replica of the women tied on the chair. The only colour that was upon it was red of different shades with its background in black colour. “Naa~naa~na~na~na~Naaa~Naaa~Na~” the smile turns into a smirk as he takes a deep breathtaking scent of blood. Making him cover his mouth with the back of his hand still holding the brush.

Four large paintings hung on the main wall, each one lit perfectly so it seemed to breathe on its own. Her eyes moved across them slowly… and then she saw something that caught her attention immediately. Paintings. And one of the paintings was hers. It was a piece she had finished months ago — a woman standing by a window, half in shadow, half in light. The brushwork showed all the quiet pain and hope she had felt when she painted it. Seeing it here, among the other strong works, made her chest tighten. “Quentin…” she whispered. He stood close behind her, tall and steady. “They selected four paintings this year. Yours was one of them.”

His blue eyes followed every contour, every shape, and once he was ready to apply color, he asked, “Are you comfortable in that position?” Caty smirked. “I’ve done worse with you.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I forgot. Sorry about that.” She giggled in return, trying to stay as still as possible. He continued painting, a smile tugging at his lips. Several times, he had to take deep breaths to calm himself and clear the rising heat building between his legs. He focused all his effort on the painting, he didn’t want to disappoint her. After nearly an hour, he finally finished. It wasn’t that hard, he only used three sets of colors: one for the skin tone, black for her eyes and outlines, and brown for

She chuckled, turning her head at me. “Promise me you won’t sell this, Red,” she laughed. I shook my head, my shoulders shaking as I laughed with her. “I will keep this. You didn’t tell me you have this kind of talent, but you got my lips wrong.” I raised my hand, my index finger pointing at the curve of the lips of her stick man drawing. Aya glanced at me and then nodded. “Paint again, Red,” she murmured. “I can’t. Since Scarlett died, I felt like I could not paint anymore,” I muttered sadly, glancing at the last piece I made, Scarlett and our twins.

I asked, half-hoping he'd just simmer down. "Like it? Anne, this is— Look here, you got the curve of the visor just right and the mouth guard detail is perfect. Do you know how much incorrect fan art I've seen?" I blinked at him. "Just how much fan art have you seen?" "A lot. Your dad's is my favorite, but he might have some competition now," Victor said eagerly. "What else can you draw?" "I don't know. Whatever." I shrugged, trying to stay casual even as my face started to heat up. "You want me to draw a Zord or something?"

His entire body was covered in a bloody mist. "Haha, my Demonic Blood Diagram has finally been mastered!" The figure let out another heaven-shaking laugh.

I will give her the world. Jin attended an exclusive exhibit at a hotel near Julianne’s office. One particular painting caught his eye. The background was an abstract of different colors of blue, purple, black, yellow and red. The center was a face of a man. He had a devilish look on his face. His brown hair fell over his red eyes. He had fangs and though he looked evil, he also looked quite handsome. As Jin stared at it longer, he could make out the wings behind the man in the painting, making him look like fallen angel. Jin must admit, the artist had some skill. “Do you like it?” he heard a female voice ask behind him.

It was painted with black and white paint that's smeared, and mixed with something red and dried. I didn't have to think too much on it because I already knew what that red stuff was. Blood. Dried blood stuck to the messy skull-face painting that hid his features. A ring of black paint hooded around his eyes, making the dark shade of grey even darker. It should look scary, like the psycho serial killer kind of scary. But to me, it only makes him look even more beautiful. Dark yet beautiful. It gave him this mysterious, dark warrior look from a barbarian tribe like in the movies. They’d wear paint on their faces, torso and arms as a symbol of the number of kills or war victories they had.

Before I could stop myself, I turned it and pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the air carrying a faint, woodsy scent mixed with paint. My breath hitched as I stepped inside. The walls were covered in canvases, all of them depicting the same image: a melting face, caught in a horrific scream. One canvas stood out, larger and more vibrant than the others. The paint was still wet, glistening under the soft light. Beneath the image, a word was scrawled in bold lettering: darkknight.

Greetings to all my wonderful readers! As you've likely noticed, I have actual artwork of my characters for the cover of my book now. This was a commissioned piece from a very dear artist friend by the name of Rydi on DeviantART also known as lucia-garcia on ArtCorgi. We've known each other for a long time now, and I was super happy when she agreed to make a book cover for me, so if you like her style, feel free to check her out.