#I sketched this out when I was crying ehm
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Dust's gettin' squeezed in there
#I sketched this out when I was crying ehm#utmv#sans au#undertale au#sanscest#if u want it to be#dust sans#killer sans#horror sans#murder time trio#polyamory#UwU
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Remus Sanders is an artist HCs â part 2
Next part of [THIS POST]
It may be slightly more angsty than last time... (but itâs still packed with this Creativitwins content I crave... plus there are hints at Intrulogical, Dukeceit, and Intruality).
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21. When Remus wants Logan to join him with creating new hybrids and some weird terraformations in the Imagination he leans in way too close and asks: âwanna play god?â in a seductive voice. (Works every time.)
22. He paints a lot and he usually needs gigantic canvas, because heâs very expressive and energetic, so the paint goes everywhere (including the artist himself⌠I mean he drinks it) and heâs got no patience to deal with some small easel when he has A VISION.
23. He likes recreating already existing famous paintings, but â obviously â makes them more sexual and/or bloody. The more disturbing the better.
24. He knows quite a lot about classical art and the well known artists. If you want to rebel against the rules you need to know them first, right? (he learnt that too)
25. Remus is better with theory, Roman has more artistic intuition when it comes to new techniques. So they can often teach each other. Remus giving the facts and Roman quickly coming up with new ways to apply this knowledge in practice. (Loganâs very proud.) They generally like trying new techniques and materials to paint or sculpt together.
26. Remus, just like Roman, really wants a big audience (or any audience, at least). The fact that heâs âtrappedâ in Thomasâ mind is sometimes depressing, because his brotherâs ideas are quite often created in the real world, but his art stays in the subconscious with no one to witness its disturbing glory.
27. So Roman made him an art gallery where he can display all his proudest creations. Most of the visitors are just the made up people from Imagination, but sometimes one of the sides will go there too. Patton has more than once spent the entire evening looking at the displays through his fingers, but heâs seen every single work of art and tried real hard to honestly compliment at least one thing about all of them. (He even took the autograph. Remus definitely didnât cry.)
28. Once Roman and Remus decided to paint each other portraits and then autoportraits to hang them together for comparison. It started as a friendly competition to brag about their skills, but it turned out that each brother painted their twin with much more sad expression than they had on their autoportraits. They decided to not talk about it again, but they kept the paintings in their rooms nonetheless.
29. Remus once gave every side their portrait for birthday or nameday. They were very⌠ehm⌠realistic. Letâs just say that not every side wants to show them publically.
30. He likes asking other sides to be his models as a sneaky excuse to spend time with them. Most of them already discovered his intentions, but they come to his study anyway. Deceit is the most patient and graceful model and the only one willing to take off any clothes (to show more scales, mostly). Logan can be patient too if you let him read or rant about something while posing. Patton is too energetic so he can only pose for quick sketches.
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31. Remus stopped asking Roman to be a model, because⌠well⌠He can just draw himself without moustache, since they are twins (in an AU where the sides donât look exactly the sameâŚ; if they do look alike, then he can draw anyone and put into Romanâs costume). But to be honest Roman just canât stay in one position for more than twelve seconds. Heâs easily distracted and gets excited, leave him alone.
32. When the twins were little they drew a lot pictures together on a giant cardboard. You could always guess which part was done by which twin. (And they really made Patton suffer by constantly asking which one he likes more.)
33. One of Remusâ biggest dreams is for Thomas to direct a horror movie. The most obnoxious and over the top production, full of gore, but with a super sad ending that affects you more than all the limbs and eyeballs flying around earlier.
34. He has at least twenty variants of the script and a long list of ideas (such as the designs of the monsters and precise descriptions of gruesome deaths), but at some point he realized that his big project will never be transferred to the silver screen. He gave up on asking Thomas about it after the seventh script, but kept writing.
35. When asked nicely he will paint, draw, sculpt etc. something pretty and delicate for others. Sometimes other sides do that to tease him and see him sketching fluffy animals, but he actually appreciates that they want his art. So if he spends a quiet evening painting some sunflowers in watercolours itâs all good. (But they better praise his work adequately. He could have spent that time sketching naked dudes, so be grateful, Janus.)
36. When struck with a sudden wave of inspiration Remus will write down his idea (or sketch something) no matter the situation. With a fork on the wall? Sure. With permanent marker on his forehead. Of course. (So you should not be surprised to see him walking all day with the words âtentacles, birthday cake, saltâ written all over his face.)
37. He likes designing tattoos. He even put them on two other sides (they agreed!). [Iâm not going to tell which ones.] And he really enjoyed it. You combine art with causing pain. How could he not like it?
38. He did at some point use his own blood to paint. Itâs Remus, letâs be real.
39. When heâs melancholic and needs a change he likes to stay on his side of Imagination and just shift all the things around. He rebuilds the parts of his tower or let the forest grow at the impossibly fast speed. He doesnât consider it art, but he often ends up with something new and interesting, so maybe it is? (plus he feels better afterwards)
40. But when heâs extra sad, he would just sit down and write poetry. Because he honestly thinks that poems are kind of lame. And whatâs lamer than being sad, am I right? haha (someone hug him).
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I donât know if Iâm finished with this list⌠Probably not.
[Again, part one is HERE.]
#sanders sides#remus sanders#ts remus#roman sanders#ts roman#logan sanders#ts logan#patton sanders#ts patton#deceit sanders#janus sanders#ts janus#ts deceit#creativitwins#intrulogical#dukeceit#demus#intruality#text#long post#tw blood#remus hcs#remus sanders hcs#last time I made a mistake#and wrote#remus sanders in an artist#it... it suits him#remus sanders is an artist#my post
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Discord Thread || Quentin & Roman
Discord thread featuring: Quentin and Roman
When: October 12th
Mentions: @dammitdorianâ, @aaronhart93â, @jayceelyndâ
Description:Roman meets Quentin at the bar  and they end up getting mugged.
Trigger Warning: Hate Crime Mentions!!!
Roman. Roman was...in a mood. Heâd just had a major fight with Aaron, and now he just needed a distraction. Quentin was a great friend, someone he really felt like he could be himself around without being judged for anything. He also doubted that the other male would guilt him into considering therapy. That was kind of a burn at Aaron when he shouldnât be thinking that way, but itâs not like he was in the best state of mind. He threw on some makeup to hide his puffy face from crying with some eyeliner, and a swipe of red lipstick before he was out to meet Q at a bar in between their places. âHey!â He greeted his friend with a wide smile, tucking some hair behind his ear as he took a seat at one of the bar stools on the right side of Quentin.
Quentin. When Roman texted him needing a release and a sure way to clear his head. Q was quick to suggest his newest stand of weed. He had only smoked from this batch one other time before, and it left him loving life. So he knew it would be the perfect remedy for his friend. He had quite a lot of things on his mind as well though. It seemed he was getting closer and closer with Dorian, and he knew the other male didnât like his playtime habits. Although, he never really made a stink about him quitting, Q knew it was something he had to consider. Which only brought him back to his break up with Jaycee, which also weighed heavy on his heart. As soon as he saw Roman though, he offered the male a wide smile. âHey gorgeousâ he greeted, complimenting on his make up. He always thought Roman was unnaturally beautiful, he always had such an extraterrestrial glow about him. âI went ahead and ordered us some drinks. Then we can head out back if you want and toke up.â He pushed the glass of alcohol into the space in front of his friend and turned in his seat to face him more directly. âI hope you like sex on the beachâ he grinned.
Roman. Roman continued to smirk when Quentin called him gorgeous, because that made him feel good every single time. He wanted to feel pretty. It wasnât about being a girl, or feeling feminine, he just loved makeup, and had fun with it. Roman snorted when Q said he hoped he liked sex on the beach, nodding as he took the drink, and swirled the straw inside of it. âLove it.â He teased, and then took a sip. âThis is good â but the festivities will be the best part.â He sighed, and looked down into his cocktail. âHowâre you by the way? Hope your night was better than mine.â
Quentin. âI had a feeling you wouldâ he smiled proudly as he watched Roman take a sip from his drink. âOh yeah, the festivities are always the best part. We can skip out of here if you want and get right to itâ he suggested. Pointing with his finger toward the back exit, just in case he was interested. âIâve been alright. No, thatâs a lie. Iâve been pretty good actually. At least anytime after 5â he grinned. âHow are you though. You okay? Still havenât got that assistant have you?â
â���âŽĐźđđ ââ âYeah, hold on though.â He held up a polished finger when Q suggested skipping out, picking up his drink to take it down until the glass was completely empty. He coughed a bit once he was done, smirking through it, because he couldnât believe heâd just done that. Listen, it had been awhile since heâd had a drink, and tonight felt like the best night to get a little crazy. âNope, no assistant. Looking though. Why? You interested?â He joked, already feeling just a slight buzz start to build from how fast heâd taken down that damn drink. âIâm glad youâre doing well though. That makes me happy.â
Quentin. Quentin watched as Roman downed his entire drink with wide eyes. An extremely amused grin pulling at his features as he eyed his own drink and debated doing the same thing. âYeah, no... Iâm not doing thatâ he chuckled. Taking another large sip instead before putting his attention back onto the brit. âI could be. Like I said, I have a lot of down time coming up, and I really wouldnât mind helping out if I couldâ he shrugged. âI guess it all really just depends on what kind of things you would expect me to do.â He took another large sip before pushing his drink away and standing up from the bar stool. âIâm trying to do well. I still have plenty of faults though, trust meâ he winked. Lacing his arm through Romans and pulling him with him toward the exit.
Roman. Roman of course hadnât been serious when he asked if Q was interested in being his assistant. That would be ridiculous, but he supposed he was used to being ridiculous. His whole life was ridiculous. He was relieved when Quentin pulled him outside to smoke though, because lord knew he needed a hit, and was more than happy to stand in a dodgy back alley to wait for it. âDamn, itâs starting to get chilly out here.â He admitted while rubbing his hands together, and looking around, feeling a shiver run up his spine at the sheer mood of the place. âKind of sketch back here, innit?â He asked in a thicker British accent than he really meant to put on.
Quentin. Maybe Roman wasnât serious, and the whole idea was a bit ridiculous. But Quentin was used to doing some pretty ridiculous things to make a little extra cash. Not that heâd ever admit that to just anyone. Once they were outside though, he was quickly pulling the blunt from his pocket and leaning his back against the brick building. âYeah, it is a little chilly. You want my jacket?â he asked, being the genuinely sweet guy that he was. He placed the blunt between his lips and lit it up before inhaling deeply and passing it along to his friend. âHa, yeah. I guess it is a little sketchy. I usually donât pay much attention to it though. I know the owner so, I donât think heâd let just anyone back here.â God, was he about to be sorely mistaken though. âSo.. what happened with you and Aaron? You donât have to talk about it if you donât wanna. But, Â Iâll totally kick his ass for you if it helps.â
Roman. Roman shook his head when Quentin offered his jacket, because for some reason, it just felt...yeah. He didnât know how to describe it, but the gesture was so sweet. In another life, maybe he would have been dating Q, but it felt odd to imagine that now. He was happy with Aaron, at least, he usually was. He didnât have the words to describe what tonight had been, but lord knows he felt off about it. Obviously. He shifted uncomfortably, wondering if saying what had happened out loud would be yet another confirmation that heâd been in the wrong. He really didnât want to be. âI ehm...Aaron wants me to go to counseling for my past trauma...my depression. But, Iâve done therapy before, and I hate it.â He took the blunt, nursing it between his fingers before he was taking a deep hit, and blowing it out into the cool night air.
Quentin. He just smiled at Roman as he declined his offer and shrugged slightly. If he wanted to freeze than that was on him. He was never the type of person to push anything onto anyone. Except for maybe sex, in a totally mutual way though of course. He watched as his friend nursed the blunt and listened carefully to each word he had to say. âDamn, yeah, thatâs rough. I donât think therapy is really something you can force onto someone though. Iâve done it before myself, and youâre right, itâs awful. Plus, it only really works if youâre ready and accepting to it.â He wasnât sure if his words would make Roman more mad or not,  but he was just speaking from his own truth. Roman definitely didnât strike him as the type of guy who would do anything out of his own accord anyway. âYou know, maybe you just need sex therapy.â Oh God, here we go. The logic of Quentin DeLancrèt, pot head extraordinaire. âMaybe he should just try blow jobs and back rubs on the regular. Itâs always done wonders for meâ he grinned.
Roman. Okay, Roman felt a little better that Q seemed to think therapy was awful. It couldnât possibly be for everyone, right? Still, why did he feel so guilty?? He took a deep breath, and then nodded, once again taking another drag off of the blunt before passing it back to the other male. He snorted when Quentin suggested sex therapy, as if Roman didnât have enough of that. âTrust me, we donât need help in THAT department. We mess around all the time. I mean, when we can anyway. When des isnât around of course.â He felt the need to clarify, looking off to his left when he heard some voices in the distance. Immediately, the actor noticed some men that had come out of the pub next door, clearly drunk, and also looking for a smoke in the alleyway. It made him nervous, even if it was completely harmless, just thanks to his past and what heâd had to deal with previously. The paranoia would probably never go away. âAnyway. So. Guess you and Dorian are still going great then?â He tried to change the subject.
Quentin. He happily took the blunt back and chuckled softly to himself before taking another drag. âWell, I didnât think you would. Honestlyâ he mused, slightly raising his brow. He had very vivid memories of his time shared with Roman in that department, and he had no doubt things were still going well for him. âI donât know, man. Maybe just tell him what he wants to hear and move on from it. Fight about it another timeâ he shrugged. That of course was awful advice, considering he knew Roman better than that. His eyes shifting over to the group of clearly drunk men that had joined them in the alley. âYeah, things are going really well. We arenât official yet, but weâve been exclusive. Does that make sense?â he asked with a giggle, clearly getting pretty stoned already. Apparently giggling was a bad idea though, because it gained them some much unwanted attention. âOh, shit. Look at these two fairies over hereâ he heard one of them say as the group approached them. âWhich one of you is supposed to be the bitch?â another asked. Quentin was immediately pushing off the building and standing in front of Roman as he handed the blunt back to his friend. âWhy donât you guys just go back over there. We donât want any troubleâ he said firmly to the group. One of the men swiping the blunt from Romanâs hand before pushing Quentin back into him. âYou got anymore weed on you?â the man asked. Eying both Quentin and Roman before making an obscene comment about Romans lipstick.
Roman. Roman nodded when Quentin talked, smirking slightly at what he was saying about Dorian. âYeah. I get that for sure. Iâm happy for you.â Heâd said that via text, but he felt he really needed to say it in person as well, because he WAS happy for his friend. He liked seeing him smile like that, and appear content. That was quickly shifted though when the other men in the alley noticed them, starting to pick on both of them, and start to get physical. âListen. We donât want any trouble.â Ro tried to reason with them, grabbing onto Quentinâs arm out of sheer primal instinct once Q was pushed into him. Heâd been in a situation similar to this before, but his friend being involved in it was even worse. He was starting to regret his decision to wear makeup, drawing unwanted attention to himself once again. âYeah, well, maybe you shouldnât look like a fucking lady boy then.â one of the men shot back at Roman, making his stomach sink as he turned to look at Q, hoping the other male would just give them what they wanted, if he even had anymore weed, and wouldnât make a big deal of them picking on Ro.
Quentin. To be honest, Quentin was pretty used to being pushed around. He dealt with it his entire life with his adoptive father, and not to mention some of the older men he used to run around with. But there was something about this whole situation that was seriously rubbing him the wrong way. He came out here all the time and there was no way in hell he was going to let these guys ruin his vibe. âYeah, I got more weed. Hereâ Â he said as he tossed the baggy of weed he had in his pocket to the other man. âJust get the fuck out of hereâ he spat. Of course his French attitude was never shy to reveal itself in these situations. It wasnât until Q turned his back to them though that the other male decided to comment again. âSorry for imposing on your little blowjob. That color would look nice around my cock too, donât you think, lady boyâ It was then that Quentinâs eyes turned almost black with rage. He could let the comment go once, but enough was enough. He turned back around to face the other man and used his full body weight to push him back. âI said, get the fuck out of hereâ he demanded with a bit more fire. He wasnât sure what happened next though. It was almost like he blinked and his head was bouncing off the brick building. The man had given him a swift left hook straight to the eye, and he was literally seeing stars.
Roman. Roman knew that Quentin speaking back the way he was, wasnât going to end well. Guys like this had too big of an ego to just take what they wanted and leave when they were being challenged. It was like his whole life flashed in front of his eyes when Quentin was knocked into the brick wall, a shriek basically escaping his throat as he ducked down to touch his friendâs shoulders, trying to make sure the man was okay before he was seeing red. He could deal with himself being hurt, but people he cared about? âShit. Are you okay? Fuck!!â He cursed, tears pricking at his eyes before he was jumping up, and trying to reason with a group of strangers that couldnât be reasoned with. âYou got what you wanted, now fucking GO.â He spat, barely getting it out prior to a punch getting delivered to his own jaw. He didnât know how many times he was hit, and kicked after that, just praying, and begging out loud for it to end until he was coughing up blood.
Quentin. He could feel Romanâs hand on his shoulder and he nodded his head to his question. âYeah, Iâm goodâ he half lied. Of course he wasnât that good, his head was split open and bleeding. But none of that mattered the second he saw the man hit Roman. He was jumping in and swinging his fists relentlessly. Even kicking his legs as he was lifted off his feet before being thrown onto the ground. He could hear half the guys beating on his friend as the other half beat and kicked on him. His arms coming up to cover his head as he tried to shield himself from the blows. Fuck! This was not how this night was supposed to go, and to make it even worse, he felt like it was all his fault. It seemed way longer than it actually was before someone else finally opened the back door. Their threat of calling the cops inevitably causing the men to finally take off running. Leaving Roman and Q laying in a mess of their own blood. He just laid there on the ground for a moment before reaching his hand out to grab Romans. Giving his friends hand a light squeeze to let him know he was still there.
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