Creativity Sanders - Tumblr Posts

Logan, Janus, Remus. Psychoanalyse me.

FUCK your zodiac sign give me your three favorite sanders sides IN ORDER OF FAVORITISM

remoose

Remoose.

My favourite Disney Prince !!! 👑

I’m.... just gonna leave this one here

Sunday tea with the king

summery: the King and Virgil used to have tea every Sunday, but now Virgil is left with an empty seat at a table by a bay, with extra macaroons, and a cup of tea untouched. Roman left with a faint memory of fine china and kind eyes. Remus is left with the faded memory of macaroons and a table by a sparkling bay. Both of them share the memory of loving Sundays. Patton’s guilt will forever eat at his chest, and he will do anything to make it up to Roman and Remus.

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, mention of food, a deformed Horse, Remus being Remus, capitals, bad grammar.

Author notes: this is my second time writing this, cause I’m an idiot and deleted the first one. I’m doing this a second time because I can’t find a thing on the relationship between Virgil and The King.

word count: 1193

Masterpost

AO3

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The King's decision to split was the Kings and his alone. He wanted to rid himself of the memories of Patton’s disappointed stares after he gave a “bad” idea. The soft knocks of Virgil on his door to come in and hold him as his cries turned to whimpers.

he had to lose something too. The King lost the memories of studying different animals, judging people in court with Janus in the imagination, and he lost the memories of Sunday tea by the bay with Virgil. Yet there is something that lingers in both Roman’s and Remus’ brains.

Roman remembers some of their time with Janus, and tea in fine china, and  kind eyes .

Remus remembers their time with Logan somewhat, along with a sparkling bay, and macaroons.

Both think the memories that have, the kind eyes, a sparkling bay, tea in fine china cups, and macaroons, are connected because when those memories come to thought so does the love for Sunday. Neither of them knew why but an overwhelming love for Sunday has always been there.

                     --------------------------------------------------------------

It was Sunday and Virgil knew that he shouldn't cry, but the ache for his old tea parties was rampaging through his soul. He knew that the decision to split was the Kings and the King had made it, but that did not get rid of the want for those happy days of macaroons, gossip, and tea in fine china tea cups. Virgil still had the macaroons and tea in fine china cups, but no gossip, dirty jokes, or happy smiles. 

                    ---------------------------------------------------------------

Roman and Remus both decided to find out the mystery of Sunday. They went to who they thought would never ban them from knowledge, Logan.

“Hey Logan, are you in here,” Roman yelled into the giant study that was Logan’s room. Logan walked through two bookshelves to the two brothers. “Yes, I’m right here Roman,” Logan said. “oh good, I was wondering if you knew why we like Sundays so much, I mean it could be any day of the week but it’s always Sunday, why is that?” Logan looked panicked after Roman said that. “Hey Lolo why you look like we just asked how to murder you?” Remus said. Logan glanced at both of them, took a deep breath and said, “sorry you two but I’m not the one who should tell you.”

“That is fine” both the brothers said sadly.

                   ---------------------------------------------------------------

Both knew that they wouldn’t get a straight answer from Janus, so they went to Patton. the one that both of them had no memories of from before the split.

“Hey Pat,” Roman said to Patton who was making lunch. 

“oh hey kiddos, whats up!”

“me and Remus were wondering if you knew anything about our memories that don’t have anyone in them by the bay?”

Patton suddenly looked sad. “Oh yeah, I do. Do you want to know where the bay is? I’m pretty sure that he doesn't come back till later so you can ask all the questions you want to him. He was the one that knew the King the best...”

“Yes, yes, yesity, yes, please with a juicy butt hole on top,” Remus said smiling viciously.

Patton looked pained not to throw up right there on the spot, “Right... it’s in the King’s imagination, by the chestnut bay is the butterfly meadow. Don’t go close to the butterflies. They can poison you just by touching you unless you have a special charm, they only person that has the charm is Him.”

“Who is this Him, you keep mentioning, he seems important because he has access to the King’s imagination, along with having a charm that no one else has, and him knowing the King better than anyone else?” Roman said.

Patton just smiled and said, “that is for you to find out when you get there.” With that he started making lunch again.

                    ---------------------------------------------------------------

Both brothers stood at the door to the King’s Imagination. Roman took hold of the detailed gold handle, and pushed. the door swung open, the brothers walked through. The air was filled with the sweet scent of lavender and roses. Remus summoned a horse with their bones showing here and there. Roman summoned a white steed with flowers and golden thread in its mane. both mounted their rides and began the trek to the meadow.

The sights were beautiful like Roman’s, but deadly like Remus’ Imagination. when they got to the meadow they had nearly died three times, THREE!

 They saw a Friesian horse tied to an old oak tree, a little bit after at a white table with fine china cups with a flower pattern on them. a display with macaroons on it was in the middle. seated at that table was a man in a black hoodie with purple patches stitched into it, the stitches were exaggerated, drinking from a floral tea cup. It was Virgil.

Roman and Remus approached through the soft grass. Roman cleared his throat, Virgil opened his eyes and looked straight (gay) at them. seeing that it was them his poster softened a bit. “hey, guys’ I’ pretty sure that you guys’ want to know about the king?” 

“Yup,” roman said, ”we want to know why we love Sundays so much and who it was in our memories, but you being here answers who it was, but not why we love Sundays.”

“Well it is possible that the reason that the king loved Sundays so much is because he used to join what I'm doing right now, except we used to have more gossip, and sometimes Remy, plus the dirty jokes.”

“would you like to join me?” Virgil asked.

“Sure,” Roman said, grabbing Remus and sitting down. the tea pot raised up on it’s own and poured some tea into the cups. Remus started stuffing his face with the macaroons. Virgil let out a laugh as tears started forming in his eyes, “ the King used to do the same thing.” tears started to escape his eyes, smudging his eye-shadow on their way down. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t be crying,” Virgil said, wiping the tears away, serving to smudge the eye-shadow. Roman and Remus got up from their chairs, and held the crying boy.

what they didn’t know was both of their Imaginations were becoming one hooking themselves to the King’s Imagination, and at that moment the land was completely done moving, the land masses were now one. the memories of the king rushed through both of their brains, both of the brothers now remembered all of it.

“It’s okay Vivi we both remember now.” Remus said holding Virgil closely.

“Yeah storm cloud, we remember all of it. we may never be the King but we are still parts of him, and all of him loved you with his whole heart. so of course we love you.” Roman said holding Virge just as close.

they didn’t know how long they stayed like that, Remus and Roman holding V as he cried whispering sweet things. And as a result none of them noticed Patton smiling from the tree line. After all Patton will do everything to make it up to those two.

I want to see this

I want to see virgil in this dress

Logan in this

patton in this

Roman in this

Remus in this

Janus in this (and tiny hat)

someone please draw these, and tag me in it.

the second fanon Virgil: *hasn’t showered in six months, and hasn’t slept in eight weeks*

Canon Virgil: why do you look like you haven’t slept in seven weeks and haven’t showered in a month.

Fanon Virgil: cause I haven’t.

The Sides are lost. They find themselfes in a familiar and yet unknown place.

They will soon find someone dark. And someone far too shiny and bright… Too innocent.

The Sides meet…

their fanon-selfes

ispired by a conversation with @virgeofwinter!!

thank you! it’s beautiful.

@sure-i-exist​ @five-falseh00ds-ph0nated​ @enderfar​ @helloidkwhatimdoing-0​ @dissappropriation​ @xgiraffequeenx​ @ireneholmesloveslogos​ @mysticrain0​ @legaycousin @amintyworld​ @infinitesimal-atrocities​ @blackcustetsquad

Here’s all the sides in some cute Lolita dresses!

The original prompt was by @thenextyellowfish I hope you like it!

*distant crying is heard*

Reblog if you stan this Roman smile

*Me remembering that I have some hard core Roman fans in my tiny following*: wait they will probably really like this, time to reblog.

I've seen enough Jock Roman. Y'know what I want?

Roman who is absolutely enamored with theater. Who would be absolutely ecstatic if he got a lead role in a play. But who's too anxious that he'll mess up a line, or trip over a wire, or do something equally embarrassing. So he just watches from the sidelines, occasionally helping with set design.

Roman who's adhd is too much of a nuisance to actually remember anything. Which is just another reason he can't have a leading role, he'd forget the lines in a heartbeat.

Roman who's short. Who's friends constantly tease him about it, lightheartedly calling him names and resting their arm on his head like an arm rest. Constantly having to ask for help when picking heavy things up, and getting things down.

Roman who wears mostly larger tee shirts and sweaters because he's kinda pudgy, and if he wears anything else that will be on full display and he does not want that at all.

Idk man, just gimme that non jock Roman..

This is the best thing I've made my entire life XD

(please don't repost, reblog!)

So cute?? So pure??? He’s so precious, I’m squealing!

I love precisely one Prince~

(have some art, guys <333 I know I should post drawings more often, so I’ll absolutely try!! ;00)

Seeing them so happy and in character is so nice, just like the drawing itself 💙❤️💜💙

Sanders Sides! ( I might make this a Tshirt design idk)

The King- a Sanders Sides Fanfic

What was Creativity like before he was split in two parts?

Link for ao3

Words: 1898

Terrifying. Inappropriate. Unwanted. Intrusive. Disruptive. Creativity replayed these words in his mind several times over. It was not uncommon for him to be shot down every once and a while by the other sides. Most commonly, these words came from Anxiety. But now these insults grew more frequent and became more attacking in tone. Goddamn Anxiety. He might as well be called ‘paranoia’ with the way he treats Thomas.

Anxiety’s presence had become more and more prominent over the last few years. By the age of fifteen, the King believed he held more sway over Thomas than any other side. Despite Logic doing his best to overrule any negative feedback that was presented by the other side, Anxiety worked his hardest to make Thomas feel more alone than ever before. Now, the King of Creativity must do his best to work Thomas out of this grave Anxiety has dug.

As he used his skills to aid Thomas in conjuring fictional worlds, he found the other side would retreat into his room. When the King would exercise his rights to fully take over. He could send Thomas into daydream mode and allow him to be free of whatever would trouble him.

Daydream mode, however, sometimes came with side effects. Once daydream mode began to fade out, toward the ends of Thomas’s day, vivid nightmares would occur. As Anxiety was able to re-emerge into the mind palace, the visions of fairytale creatures would morph into horrific alternate versions of reality. Realities in which Thomas did things that would have dangerous consequences. Visions where Thomas hurt those he held dear and had always been kind to him. Fear and paranoia would take the wheel and lead Thomas into late-night spirals that were difficult to escape.

As the night would go on with Thomas losing precious hours of sleep daydream mode could finally fully dissipate. Leaving the King vulnerable to whatever criticism he would soon face. The sides could finally retire to their rooms after Thomas finally fell soundly asleep. But sometimes the King would overhear things said by the other sides.

“I feel terrible for the poor kid, honestly.” He heard Morality say once. “He can escape for a little while and is then thrown into a spiral of terrifying visions.”

Terrifying, The King thought. Morality thinks what I can do is terrifying. A rush of guilt came flooding over the side. His purpose was to be Thomas’s creative center. He was supposed to help Thomas, not become a hindrance to his everyday life.

He flashed back to a time when Thomas was quite young. Elementary school, you would write a story and illustrate it. Thomas was never excellent at drawing but, as The King of Creativity, he would try his hardest. The details of the story were fuzzy to him but he remembered an illustration of Thomas electrocuting one of his older brothers. The King had imagined it as a funny joke, which is what Thomas’s classmates saw it as. Unfortunately, Morality did not see it that way. The King was told that it was inappropriate and terrible to even joke about hurting a loved one.

Despite this warning, years later, Thomas would be faced with nightmares worse than what his innocent third-grade sketches could ever predict. The thoughts of performing a heinous crime that he had read about in a crime-novel or speaking about his deepest secrets to those who would use it against them. Fear of alienation would stop Thomas from speaking about what he thought about.

Soon, a day would come when Anxiety would approach Creativity after a daydream mode experience gone awry. He had said to the King, “I heard Logic use a term to describe what happens to you toward the end of your little brainstorming sessions,” He had begun. There was a harshness in his voice, he also sounded mildly taunting, like he was going to say something the King wouldn’t like. “He called them Intrusive Thoughts.”

Intrusive Thoughts. The King looked at the darkly dressed side in front of him. “What does that mean?” He had asked. He knew that, if it were important enough for Anxiety to tell him this, these words did not have pleasant meanings.

“To my knowledge, the word ‘Intrusive’ means something along the lines of disruptive or unwanted.” Anxiety replied, his voice was eerily calm.

It was disconcerting to see the side that was responsible for Thomas’s fears speaking with such a mild tone. From an outside perspective, it was obvious Anxiety was trying to get under Creativity’s skin. From the perspective of the King, it was working.

“Take that as you will, your Highness.” Anxiety shrugged and walked away from Creativity. Leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Anxiety’s words ran through the King’s mind for a long time. Even as he prepared to go to sleep, the remarks haunted him. Now, as Thomas faced another restless night, so did the King of Creativity. As time passed, the King heard the other sides express their concerns about Thomas’s wellbeing. They blamed Creativity for the ways Thomas’s mind would sway to writing something unpleasant or dark. They would tell Creativity that they needed to have positivity and happiness in order to cancel out the effects of Anxiety’s fear. And despite some very good brainstorming sessions in daydream-mode, there was also the stray few that would end in disaster.

Intrusive...disruptive...unwanted. Anxiety’s words, once again, ran through his mind. The King was now feeling shameful and guilty about how he was trying to help Thomas. This time was different from the others, however. This time, the feeling was not gone in the morning.

As the sides began their days, the King woke up still feeling guilty about the night before. He began growing afraid to engage in daydream mode for fear of the consequences. This, however, left both himself and Thomas feeling worse than usual. Soon, his only form of escapism for Thomas was gone. He began growing more distant from the other sides and was unconsciously isolating himself. His insecurities began to get the best of him. There would be times when he would duck out entirely, in order to avoid judgment.

Thomas’s imagination was stuck in a slump. Normally, he was incredibly creative and could write a story with ease. Writing was one of the ways he escaped his anxieties and the rest of his troubles. Now, he was stuck in a place where he couldn’t think of anything to write and was falling deeper into his fears and worries.

One night, the King had come out in order to alleviate Thomas’s stress, after a particularly difficult day. He had hoped that emerging in dire circumstances would lessen the chances of things going wrong toward the end of daydreaming. The King saw the look of surprise on Logic’s face as he asked to enter daydream mode. He never asked for permission, however, he had thought that asking for permission would be less disruptive.

Everything was seemingly going according to plan until daydream-mode began to fade out. Thomas’s ideas of drafting villainous characters began to shift into thoughts of himself as the villain; wreaking havoc on the relationships he had worked so hard to build up.

As Creativity saw what was happening, he panicked and retreated into his room. He abandoned daydream mode without hesitation. Leaving the other sides to deal with the aftermath of another disaster. As he disappeared into his room, the King broke down. He heard the words of the other sides running through his mind. Terrifying. Inappropriate. Unwanted. Intrusive. Disruptive. The King paced back and forth throughout his room. Thoughts were rattling inside his brain.

Am I hurting Thomas? How can I get rid of all of these horrific ideas? I can’t keep putting Thomas through all of this. What is the point of trying to help? Would it be better for everyone if I just was gone for good? His mind raced with questions and fear. How ironic, the King thought. I have now become the anxious and insecure side.

With that thought, the King collapsed to the floor. Gripping at his bedframe for stability, began to sob with his thoughts becoming even more frantic. What is wrong with me? How do I fix this? How...? Why...? What...?

Without any warning, he was enveloped in darkness.

He was alone, standing by himself, in a void. His head was ringing and he felt like the world was spinning around him.

“Get rid of the bad creativity.” He heard his own voice echoing throughout his mind. “Fix yourself.” It now echoed.

Suddenly, the King felt a sharp pain go through his entire body. Almost as if he was being ripped apart. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

He was still surrounded by darkness, thus causing the pain to be even more concerning. What is happening to me? The agony continued, as the colors of red and green flashed in his vision causing him blacked out again.

Two boys woke up on the floor of the King’s bedroom. One dressed in white with a red sash. The other dressed in black with a green sash. The looked at each other with the same fearful expression.

“Who are you?” They both asked at the same time.

“I’m Creativity.” They both responded. They both talked about the memories that they had leading up to that point. The pain and then waking up to the sight of each other. They talked about who most likely represented good creativity and who represented bad creativity. They decided that they were twins and a result of the King’s breakdown.

“Does this mean that we’re both the King?” The side in black and green asked.

“I think I’m more of a prince now,” the red and white side responded. “Since neither of us is fully the King anymore.”

“Well, if you’re a prince the I’ll be a duke!” Exclaimed the boy in green and black.

The Prince decided to call himself Roman. He decided that the Duke would be called Remus. Their names were similar to the twins Romulus and Remus, in Roman myth. Because the prince represented “good” creativity and Romulus was who Rome was named for, the prince decided that Roman was a good fit.

As time would go on, Roman would become the prized brother. He was “Good Creativity” after all. Remus became rejected, taken in by Deceit, and the other sides that were considered to be bad or harmful to Thomas. The Prince seemed to forget the trauma that caused the King’s split. The Duke, however, would harbor those memories for a long time after being shut out by the “good sides.”

Later in Thomas’s life, Anxiety would become one of the “good sides” too. The side that caused Creativity the most pain before the split. Soon, Remus would grow aggravated by the amount of attention Anxiety was getting by the good sides. As Deceit would also make more frequent appearances in Thomas’s decision making, Remus grew more fearful that he was becoming the only rejected side left.

Remus decided that sooner or later he was going to get the attention he craved. He didn’t give a damn if he was considered a “bad side,” he just wanted to be heard and have his voice be listened to. He decided to use his own daydream mode.

Logan: How do I delete my emotions?

Roman: Okay so go into settings

Roman: Wait I thought you said emoticons nvm

Logan: No, I’m in settings what next?

Imagine! COOKIES Version!

WARNING- SPOIL ALERT, WATCH THE VIDEO, YOU WON’T REGRET IT! and This contain a lot of links of cookies!

Anygay!

After the new video, everyone was sitting on the couch except Patton who came back with a plate of all kinds of cookies, goes in front of Deceit.

‘‘Pick one!’’

“Why?”

“Just pick one.”

“No.”

He picks the Gluten free peanut butter chocolate chip cookie, eats it.

“Gross.”

Patton smiles, leaves with the tray. Comes back with tray of oatmeal cookies, sets it on Roman’s lap. “I hate.... how much you know me!” All Roman got in response is a giggle. Patton leaves again, returns with a plate of Gluten free peanut butter chocolate chip cookie and places it on Deceit’s lap. “I hate these..” “Uh-huh.” With that, Patton left and returns with a plate of toffee crunch on Thomas’ lap. “Thanks!” “You’re welcome, kiddo!” Patton left, returns with two plates this time. Places the brownie cookies on Virgil’s lap and places the ‘kitchen sink’ on Logan’s but whispers in Logan’s ear “You might not be everyone’s favorite, but you are mine.” and pecks his cheek. Logan and Patton, both,  was blushing. Patton left and come back with a salad, sits down.

“Why-”

“Today, haven’t a rough day and it’s helps to stay healthy.”

Help!

I am playing Sims 3 and I have made the Sander Sides (With no Thomas... I know.. I’m a horrible person!) Anyway, who can Deceit date? Logicality and Prinxiety are real so they can’t date Deceit... Any suggestions? Please? I don’t want to have Deceit single!

Listen up. There is literally an app that can help you avoid self harm and I don’t know why we aren’t talking about it.

Calm Harm can be tailored to your needs and will provide strategies to help you get past those crucial moments of wanting to harm.

It’s also totally FREE.

once again, it’s called CALM HARM

My Rotten Witch (1)

Characters: Roman Sanders and Virgil Sanders

Warnings: Fearplay, feelings of helplessness, [Feel free to tell me if there is anything else I need to tag!]

Notes: Please don’t hate on it, but negative and positive feedback is appreciated! Thanks <3

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“Get me a new bottle cat!” Virgil ordered, waiting a moment before zapping his poor familiar known as Bastard Cat or his actual name, Roman.

Roman let out a soft hiss and stalked towards the cabinet. He didn’t expect to be zapped in the back however, and yowled at the sudden pain.

Virgil was not a patient witch. When he wanted something done it had better be quick or there would be hell to pay. “Be quicker than that!”

Roman grumbled under his breath and quickly grabbed the nearest bag of bottles, bringing them to his Master. “Here you are you dick,” He couldn’t help but hiss at Virgil, yelping when he got zapped….again.

Virgil took the bottles, sighing. “Thank god, you lazy ass. Gods.” He started bottling his most recent potion, a sleeping potion, into the different bottles. He hummed softly, ignoring how Roman brushed against his legs.

Roman was furious. He hated how Virgil always zapped him for doing nothing wrong. Nothing! He never gave any warnings at all and he just starts zapping away when things don’t go his way.

Stupid witch, stupid magic, stupid zapping and stupid bottles! he snarled and his tail hit one of the newly made potions, knocking it off the shelf. Roman let out a scream and bolted, letting the potion spill all over Virgil.

Virgil let out a startled yelp and looked over himself, trying to figure out what potion slipped over him. Red, which one was the red one!? He tried to think it over, and when he came to the realization of what potion it was his body froze with terror.

The witch tried to get to his broom closet, figuring if he got a hold of a broom it would be easy to fly up and get the antidote. Sadly, he was now too small to even touch the handle. Fucking hell fucking hell! I’m so fucked! He thought, stumbling when he felt a massive earthquake approaching him.

Roman poked his head out from behind the couch he ducked under, staring in shock when his witch slowly started to get smaller. He padded towards him, snickering internally. Master is smaller than a newborn mouse. He laid down in front of Virgil, a large grin making its way onto his face when his witch froze in place.

Virgil couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of fear when he looked up his familiar. He went to back up but he felt a large fuzzy paw pull him closer to the massive cat. He attempted to get away but it was in vain when Roman hooked his claws into the back of Virgil’s long robes, lifting him off the ground.

“My My, what a cute little mousey I caught,” Roman cooed, dangling Virgil in front of his face. “You know you don’t belong in the kitchen.”

“Put me down Roman!” Virgil ordered, ignoring how hard it was to get a breath in. He was terrified. At this height Roman looked like a large predator cat, and he was the mouse.

“Hmmm, are you sure you want me to put you down, Master Mousey?”

“Yes! And don’t call me that!”

“Very well, Mousey,” Roman purred, grabbing the back of Virgil’s robe with his teeth and leaping up onto the counter. He made sure to shake his head as much as physically possible, chuckling as his miniaturized master shrieked in fright.

Virgil clung to Roman’s fur for dear life, not wanting to be dropped. He was too panicked for words, unable to say anything or tell his familiar to stop. He felt helpless and scared. He hated the feeling. Every witch in town would laugh, What kind of witch is scared of their own familiar?

“Silly Mousey, I won’t drop you…..yet.” Roman kept climbing until he reached the top of the highest place in the house, that being Virgil’s massive bookshelf full of different spell books. He let Virgil dangle over the edge a bit, savoring the moment when he heard Virgil’s breath catch.

After a few moments of letting Virgil dangle he carefully set Virgil down, looming over him. “Here you are little Mousey, I put you down.”

“W-wait! I didn’t mean here!” Virgil’s voice shook as he glanced at how far the ground was. Too far. “I-I meant the floor!”

“The floor you say?” Roman’s cat face broke out into a smirk as he slowly started pushing Virgil towards the end of the shelf.

Virgil tried to fight the paw, hitting and pushing at it to avoid falling off the shelf. He barely moved it and he felt his feet reach the end of the shelf, almost being tipped off. “Stop it! Stop it please!”

Roman paused at the please, caught off guard by the rare use of the word. He pulled Virgil back, jumping off the shelf. “Fine. I was just trying to help you down,” He pouted, his tail swishing. “I’m gonna go take a nap, Chao~” he called, walking off.

“Wait! Wait don’t leave me!” Virgil cried, but Roman either didn’t hear him, or ignored his call. He slumped against the shelf, shuddering as the cold air from the air vent blew on him. This was going to be a long few hours, that is if Roman comes back to get him.

Will he come back? Is he going to leave me here till I freeze to death? He hoped not, but he couldn’t say for certain. He just hoped that his familiar would have some kind of mercy, even if he had never had any for Roman.

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Waoh