#sangore

[drawlody]

The man of your dreams 🩵

[serfuzzypushover]

The way to any Sans’ heart is to tell them a pun. They’ll fall for ya immediately- 

[serfuzzypushover]

Sansgore fankid. What kind of creature would come out of a lazy skeleton trying to have a kid with the king which is 3 times his size.

a fluffy skellie :]

[wr1tten]

it  hadn’t  been  the  first  ticket  louis  received.      highly  sought  after;      the  vampire  lestat  grew  in  popularity  quickly.      fans  instantly  enamored  with  the  front man,    masquerading  as  what  they  believed  to  be  a  fictional  creature.      though,    some  mortals  had  made  connections  between  the  lestat  within  the  interview  with  the  vampire  novel  to  this  rockstar.      a  spotlight  shined  upon  his  maker    —    something  he  basked  in.      louis  could  not  say  he  enjoyed  that  attention.      he  hid  his  face;      no  one  associated  him  with  the  best  selling  work.      it  would  be  a  lie  if  he  said  he  was  not  curious  to  see  what  lestat’s  shows  consisted  of,    but  that  could  bring  complications.      unwanted  eyes,    unneeded  attention. 

the  curiosity  outweighed  the  consequences.  before  he  could  put  much  logic  into  it,  louis  cloaked  himself  in  black  and  booked  a  vehicle  to  bring  him  to  the  venue.  his  wardrobe  was  drab  compared  to  those  that  surrounded  him  after  he  passed  through  security.  lace  and  fringe  and  leather  ( you  were  suddenly  self-conscious.  by  trying  not  to  be  extravagant,  you  stood  out  like  a  sore  thumb ).  

sweaty  bodies  smacked  into  him  as  he  weaved  through  the  crowd;      the  smell  of  blood  thick  in  the  air.      louis  was  about  to  turn  and  leave,    the  bustling  almost  too  stark  a  difference  from  what  he  was  used  to,    but  then  he  locked  eyes  with  his  former  companion  on  the  stage.      it  made  his  undead  heart  leap.      the  way  the  man  stalked  across  the  stage,    the  confidence  and  beauty  he  exuded    —    louis  couldn’t  look  away.      his  words  struck  up  something  inside.      a  fire;      because  those  lyrics  were  so  obviously  about  them.      the  relationship  that  crashed  and  burned.      the  passion  that  still  remained  despite  louis’  insistence  on  being  alone.      companion  enough  for  himself. 

it  wasn’t  difficult  to  slip  backstage  following  the  show.      the  mere  utterance  of  his  name  to  the  guards  opened  the  path  to  him.      apparently  they  were  told  to  expect  him.          ❝ that  was  one  hell  of  a  show  out  there, ❞          louis  muttered  as  he  came  up  behind  the  radiant  creature.      lestat  literally  shimmered  beneath  the  lights;      coated  in  perspiration  and  glitter.          ❝ but  what  the  fuck  was  that?      you  spilling  all  our  intimate  details  in  your  songs? ❞          it  was  hypocritical    —    he  did  drop  everything  into  a  book,    but  this  was  different.      the  lyrics  had  been  lewd,    mostly  recounting  their  sex  lives. 

@sangore asked : ❝ you already know i'm not shy . ❞

it  was  met  with  a  chuckle;      a  harmless  roll  of  his  eyes.  he  couldn’t  have  a  genuine  reaction,    because  how  could  he  be  angry  about  an  entire  album  of  songs  centered  on  him?      a  love  letter,    this  time  presented  by  the  author  himself.      no  third  party  buffering  it.      louis  reached  forward,    swiping  away  a  bit  of  glitter  from  below  lestat’s  eye,          ❝ yeah.      trust  me,    cher,    i  know. ❞          he  dropped  his  hand  back  down,    tracing  along  the  netting  that  lestat was  passed  off  as  a  top,          ❝ not  shy  with  your  lyrics,    your  clothing.      extravagant  as  always. ❞  

[therelentless]

" someone better call god. looks like he's missing his prettiest angel. "

some flirty memes ;; @sangore

The mention of God brought on a burning sensation all throughout his body, a sensation that he attempted to hide behind a smile, but all it showed across his features was an awkward and painful grimace which took him a couple of seconds to recover from. -- Leaning closer to the other, he whispered to him. "If you see it, can you tell me? because personally, I'm not a big fan of them. They give me the creeps." Not was Nandor only terrible at flirting, but he was also quite terrible at recognizing when others were flirting with him.

[sanguilt]

He   does   not   wish   to   miss   the   shadow   that   looms   over   him.   The   road   to   Europe   had   been   full   of   friction   between   him   and   Claudia   and   at   last,   it   seem   that   Paris   was   gonna   give   them   a   new   chance   to   rebuild   their   broken   pact,   and   yet,   perhaps   the   city   is   a   mistake   as   it   bears   all   reminders   of   the   man   who   was   his   lover,   maker,   mentor   and   more.   As   french   it   would   get   and   his   mind   thinks   how   Lestat   would   fit   so   easily   in   the   parisian   crowd.   How   without   needing   to   stand   out,   Lestat   would   drive   attention   as   he   often   does.   "I   told   you   not   to   come   here."   he   speaks   to   his   mind,   that   congures   the   image   of   a   dead   man   before   him   and   yet   his   eyes   soften   with   guilt   at   the   sight   of   a   neck.  

There   is   no   longer   blood   but   Louis   remembers   being   so   much   of   it,   still   the   smell   of   it   lingering   in   his   hands.   "You   never   told   me   of   Paris.   You   barely   spoke   of   your   time   here."   Of   France,   what   he   knows   had   been   enough   for   him   to   know   him   then   and   want   him.   What   he   told   Paul   about   being   raised   with   brothers   and   an   overbearing   father,   the   pressures   of   it,   and   his   ire   with   God   had   been   real,   so   raw,   he   felt   it   in   his   bones   now.   Was  she   worth   it?   The   ghost   whispers   and   he   doesn't   answer   this   time.   "I   imagined   it   to   be   more.   .   .you,   I   suppose." @sangore