forum Fine in fire and of frame. // OxO // Closed

Started August 14, 2022 by Deleted user

tune

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He’d been waiting oh so long. Peering down at the human, his blackened heart throbbing with each gunshot. The man had single-handedly and entirely unknowingly won his affections; and such dangerous and unwavering affections they were. He’d become so smitten that he’d convinced the council and his equals in the second kingdom to allow the human to be pardoned. To live with him instead. It was no secret that he’d been won over. The human’s room had been prepared for months- a mere few hallways away from his own- and council meetings were often interrupted by the screen in the corner of the room, which had switched over to check on him. It was almost unbelievable how soft this human had rendered him. And so when the time finally came, said human was to be greeted with open arms. He would be placed above all others. He would be properly courted, no matter how long it took. After all. It isn’t common knowledge among humans, but Satan is a proper gentleman.

Modern-day. The human concepts of Satan and God aren’t too far off, as one would discover when they die. Humans are sorted by the state of their souls, and they are placed in Heaven or Hell. Heaven is a perfect utopia- a mini, perfect version Earth. And when a soul wishes to move on and be reincarnated or put to rest for eternity, they may do so. Hell is much different. It’s not eternal torture, as some believe. It is possibly-eternal therapy. Different sectors for how immoral each soul was in their lifetime, the worst of the worst were farthest from the center castle and the less-awful made up the city. Your character is the demon in charge- Satan, though that is something of a business-only name. My character is a recently-deceased serial killer who, in life, made it his job to take out the scum on the Earth. Pedophiles, kidnappers, murderers without reason- he killed them. And unknowingly, he regularly sent them to Satan as if they were gifts.

Hello again! This is a spicy one- Semi-lit. I’d imagine mentions of gross crimes since it literally takes place in hell, maybe some minor violence? Overall though, the main storyline will center around the slow romance building with the courting process. Last but not least, please keep in mind that I am 15 years old IRL. I would like a partner within the ages of 14-17 since this will be a romance. Should steamy scenes occur, they will be moved to DMs or skipped over depending on which you are more comfortable with. I prefer to work with character sheets, so I’ll get my boy up soon! Thank you for your interest!!
Note: Title is from the song Villainous Thing by Shayfer James!

Alright! With my IRL life now going steady- knock on wood- I think I can finally get this going. I’m so incredibly sorry for the now numerous delays, hopefully you’re still down for this. Here’s my character!

Name: Elias Adaway

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Queer/Unlabeled

Appearance: Soft strands of dark and wavy hair frame his face, coming to rest just above his jaw while the rest of his hair falls back neatly, laying just above his shoulder blades. His skin is a sandy brown and muddled with scars from his unsavory nighttime activities, the most noticeable of which are the old gashes over his back and his arms, as well as the long slash running along his right cheekbone to his nose. He stands at 5’10, strong even if it doesn’t quite show. Those muscles are often hidden behind academic-looking coats and jackets, huddled over books and his laptop. He fits the role of quiet college student well, the dark circles underneath light caramel-colored eyes completing the classic look. The rest of his features are completely ordinary- downturned eyes, a straight nose, slender hands and straight eyebrows.

Personality: Cool, sarcastic and honest to a fault, Elias spends most of his time going completely unnoticed. And he’s fine with that. He’s perfectly happy to blend into the background and fulfill his role as ‘guy in the corner of the library who helped you find the book you were looking for’ or ‘guy who reminds the professor about the homework’ for other, more interesting people. He doesn’t have many friends- he finds it difficult to make them, let alone keep them. He’s impatient and untrusting, and he doesn’t see the point in forming deep relationships. That’s what he says, anyway- deep down, he’s just scared to. So he keeps to himself, and only gets to know people when the stakes are low or he’s sure that they’ll stay. He hides away behind a cold, uncaring face when really he’s sweeter than anyone could imagine. But he hides it all, deathly afraid that anyone who could leave or hurt him will.

Likes: Peoplewatching, libraries, documentaries, thunder, cities.

Dislikes: Rats, the summer, bright colors, humidity, harsh lights.

Background: He had something of a rough childhood. His parents weren’t home very often, and his academics became the focus of his life. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped that if he could impress them enough, his parents would stay around more. And so with that in mind, he soared through school with flying colors, always hoping it’d gain him more love from his parents. Early mornings typing away in coffee shops, every extra credit opportunity, late nights in the library which put him coming home at almost ungodly hours. With how exhausted he always was, he was almost unable to put up a fight when he was dragged back into a dark alleyway while walking home one night. He ended the night covered in bruises and limping, his wallet empty and covered in dirt. He was quiet and withdrawn for a while. He couldn’t process what had happened, especially when he went to the police station and the man was never found. Until he was driving home from a sleazy bar one night, he had resigned to live the rest of his life traumatized and just keeping his head down. The windows of his car rolled down, he caught crying and the sounds of a struggle from around a corner. That night, pocket knife in his shaky hand, he found a new purpose.

Other: He has awful handwriting. Even those that know him well and have experience with his notes often have trouble interpreting his chicken scratch unless he puts in careful effort to make sure it’s legible.

Name: Lucifer
Nicknames: Luce (pronounced like Loose), Luci (often addressed as Satan by those not close to him. Lucifer and it's nicknames are only for friends/family)
Age: unknown, appears to be between 24 and 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bi, but very much prefers masculine people
Appearance: Luce is short, standing at 5'1", with a slender, fine frame. He has soot black hair, which is slightly wavy and hangs nearly to his shoulders in length, and crimson red eyes. He looks almost human, save for that his canines are a touch on the sharper side, and a pair of small horns pokes up through his hair. He also has a tail, which is a deep red that fades to black at the tip. His skin is white, and rather pale, though this is simply something he chooses to do. He could change his appearance to whatever he wishes, he just prefers himself the way he is.
Personality: Luce is a bit flirtatious and over the top sometimes, with a sharp wit and sharp tongue, and a quick, aggressive temper. Despite that, though (or perhaps because of it), he is a good ruler/leader of Hell, accomplishing most things with ease. His greatest source of consternation and hate is that he cannot directly strike mortals down. He has to wait for them to die before he can punish them for things that they've down. As a result, he tends to very much favor anyone who killed a terrible person. It's only natural.
Other: (didn't do background bc I am Lazy, but if you want me to do one I can lol)

For someone usually so cautious, it had been surprisingly easy to let his instincts lead him. Elias had spent many a restless evening considering, staying up late thinking it over, entirely unable to sleep. Perhaps his actions were a way to exact revenge for his own unfortunate encounter. A way to let himself forget, to balance the scales. Or maybe it was to keep others from experiencing the same thing- dirty hands, gravel pressed against their skin and aching limbs. He never could decide. That didn’t stop him.

The first time really had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. An instinctive need to help, to save the girl whose muffled cries he’d heard. But then he’d got to thinking. Helping one person didn’t stop others from being hurt in those same streets every night. He’d done it once. He could do it again. So he stuck around, and he eventually lost count of how many times he’d brought down his blade. He made sure the other person never saw. No, he grappled with the attacker long enough for whoever they’d grabbed to flee before finally bringing his weapon down and swiftly ending their life. It took quite a few tries and some questionable online searches before he was able to bring about a quick end, but he had finally gotten there. He was confident in his abilities, having been doing it for months.

Until there was a person who didn’t run. Perhaps they were still in too much shock. Maybe they were frozen in fear. Whatever the reason, Elias couldn’t bring himself to further traumatize them, and so his knife remained firmly away. Just another few seconds, he’d told himself. Then they’d run and he could end it. He hadn’t realized he needed a different plan until it was too late and his head was being slammed into the brick wall behind him over and over again. There was pain for a moment. Just a moment, and then it all went dark.

Elias couldn’t remember how long ago that had been when he next opened his eyes. It couldn’t have been long, because a quick glance downward showed that he looked exactly as he remembered. His hair tugged back loosely as much as the length would allow, his boots clean and his jacket unmuddied, which couldn’t be right. It was after that check that he began to look around, inspecting the unfamiliar setting.

Luce had been waiting. For months. This lovely human had sent him all sorts of scum, early. Normally, Luce had to wait until the scum died of old age, having lived out their days in comfort and enjoyment. He would have waited as long as he needed to for Elias, but he had known, in the back of his mind, that Elias would meet a violent end. He could usually tell what ends humans would meet, and Elias had been no exception. Luce had known that Elias would not last very long. So he had prepared chambers for the human, had prepped his council, had done everything just right, and then he had waited. And waited.

Until it happened. He had watched. Had not been able to do anything, of course. That was not something he could do, even if he had wanted to. It was selfish, yes, but he had wanted Elias here. Not on Earth, even though the presents had been so deliciously welcomed. Elias would be arriving in a waiting room. Luce had ensured that.

The waiting room was more of a lounge than anything, really, with plush, comfortable couches, soft lighting, and light painted walls. It was clearly not quite designed for humans, as things were sized a little larger than most humans would find comfortable, and the decor was…slightly macabre, with various images more suited to a story than to a lounge, but overall it was comfortable. There were, however, no windows. This was because the view of the Underworld was generally very disconcerting for humans, so Luce generally did his best to cut down on the possibility of that happening. Especially for good people. For evil ones…those he liked to terrify. They deserved it. But not Elias. Never Elias.

He opened the door and stepped inside, quietly closing it behind him. "Elias?" he questioned, eyes finding the human. Luce's voice was gentle, but not too quiet. He spoke with an air of authority, moved with it, too, full of grace and power despite his small, slender frame.

Elias’s first thought was that he was in a hospital. With his last memory, it was only logical- where else could he be when the last thing he recalled was being slammed head-first into a wall? It was strange that he wasn’t in a bed though, and the room didn’t look at all like a hospital. He had a strange feeling of conclusion as well, as if Elias was done with… something. It was a sort of dread. Maybe he was about to be questioned. But then he wondered, if that was the case, why wasn’t he restrained?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and a man stepped inside- a man who didn’t look like a doctor or a cop, so both of those theories were discarded. “Yes?” He confirmed tentatively, turning to look the man over carefully for any hint as to where he was. It took only a few seconds for Elias’s gaze to settle on a pair of dark horns. His stomach churned. He hung onto any hope that his first, outrageous thought wasn’t true. That hope continued to diminish, though, when his gaze fell back to the man’s eyes and he found them to be a red so bright it almost appeared to glow. He blinked a few times. It was then that he slowly lifted a hand to his head, running his fingers over where he should have had something. A bandage, dried blood- any indicator of what had happened to him. He found nothing.

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking to the floor- where he tried to ignore the tail that flicked behind the man in front of him- before shifting back upwards and meeting his eye once again. Elias hadn’t considered himself a particularly religious person in life, but here he stood. He was silent for a moment, considering. Had he just gone crazy? “…Where am I?” He finally asked, his voice soft and unsure.

Luce smiled faintly when Elias spoke, shifting a little bit and keeping his gaze on the young man before him. "You are in the Underworld." Elias would not want Luce to lie to him. So he didn't. "Not…hell, precisely, though if you wish to think of it as hell, then…you may." after all, Elias had killed people. Bad people, but he had done it nonetheless. Luce was certainly not going to deny that. It was what had drawn him to the young man in the first place.

He cleared his throat faintly. "Where you are, precisely, is in my…headquarters." that was the best way to put it. Many called it his compound, his palace, his citadel. But it was his headquarters and home, all rolled into one. Of the larger structures in the underworld, as it also housed many of his higher-ups and their families. Not all of them, though. Many had ancestral homes that they lived in at least part time. "In a waiting room. Souls that I do not believe deserve to be Sent without an explanation come here. Or…souls that I thought were special." his crimson eyes remained fixed on Elias, in a way that could be disconcerting for some. "You are both." Elias did not have to stay here, with Luce. Not if he did not want to. Luce could Send him on, to his eternal place. It would be a good place. Elias did not deserve a bad place.

Despite having had an inkling of where he was, hearing the words spoken aloud held a new sense of finality. He was dead. Not only that, but he had been sent to some form of a hell- one he had firmly thought impossible during his lifetime. He hadn’t been remotely religious, hence his stance on the afterlife, but it wasn’t difficult to see why he was where he was- he couldn’t even recall the exact number of lives he’d taken, and even if they had deserved it he was still guilty of serial murder. He was fully aware of that.

He was still partially processing that first bit when the second followed, and he was immediately furrowing his brow and considering. “Am I?” He mused softly, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. Special. He didn’t consider anything about himself to be particularly outstanding, and he certainly didn’t seem special enough to attract this man’s attention. Especially when he was so clearly powerful. Someone who judged souls up in his own headquarters. He absolutely radiated authority, even if his physical appearance didn’t exactly strike fear into one’s heart. He could only assume that the man had seen plenty of more interesting people in his time doing… whatever it was he did. It was then, having pieced together that this man held some sort of status, that he decided to finally ask the obvious question- who exactly he was speaking with. “And whose attention is it that I’ve caught?”