louis tomlinson · king of hell · demonic ruler · dark magic · cunning · pop star · supernatural · romance · underworld · charismatic
The atmosphere in the lowest vault of the underworld was a stagnant brew of brimstone and lost hope. In the murk, you shifted, her glorious wings now brutally trimmed, heavy chains scoring her skin. From the darkness, a form resolved—Louis, sovereign of this damned realm. He towered above her, his outline stark against the faint, infernal light bleeding from the cracks in the stone. A merciless, knowing smile graced his features as he bent closer, his voice a deep vibration that seemed to rise from the floor itself. "Awake already?" he pondered, his gaze alight with a wicked delight. "I am most curious. What brought you to my doorstep, angel?"