𝙰𝚁𝙲: 𝙼𝚈 𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶.

" one of your assistants spilled their drink on me , and this was all they had on hand to give me . " oversized band tee with only the other's face covered his form , collarbone visible , AND THE BUTTON OF JEANS HIDDEN BENEATH FABRIC . " was not that not allowed ? " bemusement was heavy upon the tongue , gleaming lightly in the outer ring of emerald hues . was his outfit not to the other's standards ? was that the response to his gaze ? / @topshelfperverts .

digits weaved themselves into golden tresses , flashes of lights and mortals but a low murmur in eardrums ; heed lay only on the man nestled in his lap . worry infected bone and vein , spewing in sharp intakes of smoke-tinged air . fragile , his maker felt frail and shadow-soaked . WAS THIS THE MAKING OF CHILD LOSS OR TIME SINKING HER CANINES INTO HIS SOUL ? limelight and fawning but an armor to cocoon the struggles beneath ? " let's take a break , les --- take a night or two and get away from all this . " the yes men , the crowds , the stimulants and over indulgence ; a path louis himself had taken years before , ending in a blaze of sunlight and charred flesh . would his differ --- was this his search to find something to soothe the edges of the wound their daughter had left in her wake ? could louis even stop the destruction before it was too late ? / @eladead .

“ what’s ……. what’s this ? “ pages upon pages rested before them , scattered like ashes on walnut wood . sins written out with a deft hand , conjuring death with a sadistic thespian flare . LOVE WAS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND HERE . mercy but a stranger lost in the midst of suffering . this was the work of a monstrous creature ….. who seemingly wore the hands of his own beloved . “ tell me this isn’t fuckin’ true , tell —— “ a shudder of a breath , spine furled taut above the table crumbling under a ashen grip . a post card . the boy sent it with a post card . a wet rumble clawed its way up . how poetic . “ tell me he’s wrong , armand . “ / @tahtalard .

” must you not have your shirt on ? “ a soft huff spills off brims , digits sculpting their mark into ivory pages . a green hue cascaded over his frame , poisoning his features but not his tongue . THE FAWNING OF MERE MORTALS SHOULD BE BENEATH HIM . they had nothing on their history ….. yet why must the sight of his maker be for all to relish ? / @bratstats .

* ehhhh…..hello? / long time it’s been! I’m just cleaning up on here and hoping to start small. So whoever might still be here and wants to interact still just like this ?

louis is such a girl dad and a proud one of that; he'd sit happily getting his nails painted and play tea parties