There Are Endless Tales to Tell

Aiden, he/him, Multi-Fandom, Multi-Muse RP Sideblog to minxchester. Please read the rules to initiate RPs. I thirst over these characters & actors.

[heartscfvalora]

Valentine's Day? No, no, that's Bedrotting and Watching Historical Documentaries Day. And then the 15th is Discounted Chocolate Day and god forbid you keep this man away from chocolate.

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#'romance? sex? no...can i interest you in useless facts from sparta?'

"Why not both?"

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"It is us," Alastor purred, his voice deepening as his senses were bombarded with all of the evidence of his King's arousal. "Therefore yes, it is always both. You are mine....and I am yours."

Apparently his enthusiasm for tasting his lover was a novelty, for someone who had such minimal experience before now. Lucifer had been rather startled by the hunger with which Alastor had first dived between his thighs, and he continued to revel in how he could make the seraphim fall to pieces long before Alastor actually worked his way up to getting his fingers into him....let alone more.

Oh, how he lived to take this man apart.

He had forgotten he had his sweet angel restrained. Alastor chuckled, his shadows winding down Lucifer's arms to hold his body steady on the bed, but freeing his arms if he needed to touch. "Please?" Alastor taunted. "Please what? Do you want me to continue? Or do you want me to move along?"

He slid a hand between Lucifer's thighs, fingers teasing his balls as Alastor kept licking into his body. "Perhaps you are begging for me to pin you in place and slide my shadows into your body," he went on smugly, "so deeply that your belly bulges with it?"

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Now and then, when not actively chasing the pleasure he found in his lover's arms, Alastor would contemplate it. Sometimes it made him abruptly chuckle, wondering what those of Freudian sciences might think it said of him. A man in his thirties who had cared nothing for sex or intimacy, not even for the charade of being in a sexless marriage or having a "roommate"....

But then he met a man superior to him in every way where power, social standing, and authority mattered. And when they were broken down to their most vulnerable moments, they had found that what they wanted from each other made sense to nobody but themselves.

Of course this smart-mouthed, sarcastic, odd, eclectic Fallen seraphim would be the man who unlocked something in Alastor that no other being could ever even glimpse.

"I am unsure if that means I am simply that effective, or if you are just that much of a whore for me," he taunted Lucifer, drawing back to enjoy the view he presented. And what a tantalizing display it was.

It seemed he was rather impatient, himself. Alastor bent to enjoy his treat, hooking Lucifer's leg over his shoulder as he buried his tongue inside of him, making sure that he would be stretched enough to take more whilst also savoring the taste of him. "Mine," he growled against his lover's flesh, the word garbled. "You are mine, my King."

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Alastor had lived a solid two decades of human life, mature enough to comprehend sex, and he had never in that time understood desire. He had come to Hell and found that he had more power than Sinners normally did, and just as he had become a skilled and justice-delivering killer as a mortal, he had set out to make himself unique here, as well. And he had succeeded. Sex did not matter; he had authority.

And then he had met Lucifer. And then he had been seduced by the devil. And then Alastor had discovered not only what it meant to lust for someone, but to want to possess them, to rend such pleasure from their body that their existed in that moment solely for him.

"I do love to tease," he agreed, prowling forward. He removed his jacket and begin rolling up his sleeves, savoring the raw hunger in how Lucifer gazed at him. The point that tonight was not expected made him chuckle. "That is simply another of my charms," Alastor smirked. "And you are helpless to me, my King."

Lucifer obeyed him at once, stripping bare, and Alastor bared his teeth with a snarl of approval. All that beautiful flesh, glowing golden with the flush of blood....faint red indents where his fangs had pierced the skin before....and his arousal, throbbing between his lovely, creamy thighs.

Alastor climbed onto the bed, bending eagerly to drag his serpentine tongue up his lover's hip, one hand rising to brush two fingertips over his lips. "Are you slick for me, beloved?" he purred.

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Alastor laughed low, knowing that Lucifer was familiar enough with him now that he would hear the true amusement in the sound. He was far from upset. "Indeed, I never was when alive. My poor mother was constantly biting her tongue, the desire for grandchildren competing with her need to be a good mother, understanding and accepting of me as I was."

In fairness, he was quite sure that she had suspected his proclivity for men, and she had held her breath that the worst scandals of their life would be his father disappearing, and her son never marrying. It would have gone far worse if she'd also faced the shame of his being ousted as queer.

Ah, but now was no time for sad reminiscing. Alastor grinned wider as Lucifer instantly snapped, and a flaming circle appeared, and then expanded, a portal forming that revealed the vastly familiar bedroom of his King. Alastor was on his feet at once, laughing at the impatient body language before he was commanded to come through.

"Now, now, darling," Alastor rumpled, sauntering through the portal and letting it close behind him. "You know that anticipation only makes it better." He waved one hand airily, and his shadows lashed out, catching Lucifer by his wrists and waist and propelling him backwards onto his bed. "You're overdressed for being ravished, Your Majesty."

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Alastor softened at the soft thoughtfulness in his King's voice, knowing that Lucifer was feeling sentimental. It had to be strange, he supposed, being so distanced from the daughter he adored so much--and in this moment, knowing that his lover was no as far from her. Charlie was a mere few moments' walk from his rooms, and would not turn him away from her door.

He would need to plant Vaggie's idea in her mind. Charlie needed her father, and they both deserved the reconciliation over a separation that neither had really wanted, he was sure of that.

"No," he replied aloud, leaning back comfortably in his chair again. "When I was human, the closest I came to feeling interest in intimacy was a preference for conversation with men, or with those women who abandoned society's limitations in favor of being their authentic selves." Alastor smiled dryly. "Now I recognize that I was simply part of a rarer stock, with my disinterest in sex, and it would not have mattered anyway, as I prefer the male body."

And gods, did he prefer Lucifer.

His grin widened, eyes feral as he heard Lucifer squirming at his rasping purr. "You have not begun to see me fight dirty, beloved," he murmured. "You seem to have a choice to make. Either you put that pillow I know you just grabbed beneath you, and listen to my voice like a good boy, or you open a portal in this room so that I may come through and ruin you as I always do."

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Ah, but that was, unfortunately, a very valid point. Charlie was so frazzled, and her worries for the Hotel were compounded now by Heaven and its cruelties...or was it Heaven? Was it just Adam himself? Alastor had no doubt that it wouldn't matter if he had come up with the six month crunched timeline on the spot; the Angelic Council had supported the Exterminations to begin with, they would never humiliate themselves by claiming it wasn't their intention to speed things up.

So Charlie was in a lather wanting to recruit residents to redeem, and now she had half the time she had originally expected to try and save more Souls. To try and prove her dreams to Heaven and stop the Exterminations from ever happening again. Alastor did not know her well enough to say if she would hate her father for intervening, but it was likely wiser simply to...not.

"That is all right," he murmured soothingly. "It does not change what we feel. Fatherhood is, as you say, complicated. And to choose you, as I have, I therefore also choose Charlie." Alastor smiled faintly. "I knew I would never become a father biologically, but this is not how I anticipated becoming one by adoption."

He laughed openly at Lucifer's scolding. "But my voice is near," he taunted, lowering it further. "And I have some quite creative magic, through the radio...." Alastor leaned closer so that Lucifer would feel as if he was whispering directly into his ear. "More importantly, we both know I do not need to have my hands or shadows on your body to make you cum screaming my name, my King."

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And these were the moments in which Alastor was reminded of why he had become so fond of spending his otherwise lonesome nights with the King of Hell. Nights that had begun with just not being alone, sharing a bottle of fine liquor, listening to jazz and not being bothered....and then had warmed, become a highlight of his existence human or demon.

Somehow, falling into bed with Lucifer Morningstar himself had been one of the most natural things Alastor had ever experienced. And he had been immeasurably happier since it had occurred.

He would simply have to add his own, far more delicate encouragement behind Vaggie's reminders to Charlie that she could always call her father. It would benefit her and the Hotel...and it would make Lucifer happy. And thus, it would make Alastor's life infinitely better when she did.

He listened to Lucifer moving, fabric rustling as he got comfortable, and Alastor could see him, adorably sprawled on his furniture and smirking the way he always did when reminded that he had tamed the Radio Demon's unfeeling heart.

"True, I suppose none here would ever suspect me of going to see the King when I'm out on 'business,'" he said dryly. "Though that raises a question; if Charlie does call on you and you come to aid her here, will you be expecting me to feign as if I have never met you? I understand if so, I would simply rather be pre-warned." Alastor smirked. "I have become rather accustomed to being able to touch you as a please," he went on, voice dipping to a purr.

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He could perfectly envision his partner's tired smile, the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled when he thought about his daughter....and Alastor could just as easily picture the hint of tightness that would pull at his mouth, creasing his brow, as thinking about Charlie also confronted Lucifer with the reality of her mother being gone, and of the silence that lingered between father and daughter.

He missed her. It was apparent to anyone who spent time with him, and Alastor certainly did quite a lot of that. He wished that he could make the pain vanish, but the best he could offer was to be there for his partner....and, now, to fulfill his request and ensure that Charlie had protection. She might believe Alastor that he was there because he was bored and she was interesting, but in reality, there was now no safer being in Hell than the princess.

Alastor snorted at Lucifer's surprised tone. "You have told me of the tight bond you shared with her growing up," he reminded the King fondly. "Such memories do not lose meaning when adulthood makes things less...sunshine and rainbows, or what have you." He hummed thoughtfully. "It does help that one of her affiliates here has more than once tactfully reminded her that calling you for assistance is an option. I rather think that eventually she will do it."

He ought to tell his lover that Charlie had one, as well. That Vaggie was not just a bodyguard, or a Soul she was seeking to save. But Alastor was firmly a believer in respecting couples' privacy, and the right to reveal themselves as they chose to. He had come here to protect the princess, not report her love life to her father, and thus he would leave that in her delicate hands.

The reminder that Heaven had shot down Lucifer's efforts made him wrinkle his nose. "Heaven are also arrogant twats," Alastor dismissed. "We know that to be the case." His voice softened fondly. "You sent me here because you want her happiness. Let that be our focus. And she most assuredly believes in this cause, with a ferocity to rival her father's enthusiasm for anything."

Alastor studied the microphone, wishing that he was looking at his lover in person. "I did not realize that this project....would leave me with the misfortunate of missing you. It is....irksome."

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"I know my audience," Alastor quipped, his grin audible. "Truly, though, it would take an absolute moron not to see how fiercely she believes in what she is doing." His long claws tapped lightly on the gleaming wood of his radio station desk. "I know that some of your concern stems from fearing that her goals are doomed, but....I would dare almost believe in your offspring. She may be fueled by determination alone, but she makes it...likeable."

The weariness in his lover's voice made Alastor soften, hating to hear him like that and be unable to reach out and soothe him. Lucifer was such a tactile being, able to calm with a sweet caress, some soft petting, a gentle kiss to his knuckles or shoulder.

"The Hotel itself is in dire need of a facelift," Alastor replied musingly. "I have done Charlie a service in that direction, bringing little Niffty in to aid in housekeeping.... Charlie handles the room remodels one at a time, and she has only one soul that has come to live here willingly thus far, so it is not the first priority. She is far more invested in spreading word of the entire project, and convincing more of Hell that it is a valid pursuit."

They were both quiet for a moment, and then Alastor sighed softly. "She speaks of you. There is longing there when she does, and she tends to need more reassurance when it comes up. It is possible--I say from observation, I have not yet had a suitable moment to ask--that she is trying to reach you by phone, not just her mother." His voice gentled. "I do not think it would go amiss for you to reach out, my love. She speaks of this dream as an inheritance, something she is carrying on from your own ideas."

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Let the Floods Cross // Closed RP

@heliacalxrising

One would think that being a) the most powerful being in Hell besides its King, and b) the intimate partner of said King would combine to mean that one was never relegated to something as trivial sounding as babysitting. That the princess of Hell was not a child was irrelevant, it was still precisely what Alastor considered the task to be when his lover explained that he needed someone watching over Charlie, and he couldn't go himself.

Then again, despite their recent estrangement, Lucifer did know his own child. Alastor did not. And that negated some of his sulkiness about the entire business when he paused on his way to the dilapidated Hotel, finding young Charlie Morningstar's face plastered on the enormous televisions in a downtown windowfront.

She really was her father's miniature. But there was a softness around her enormous eyes that Alastor recognized as innocence, and an animation in her movements that he did not often see in Lucifer. Not because it was nonexistent, but because the man was weary.

Alastor understood, if only at a distance, why this mattered to his partner. And he could do this for him, to ease his heart.

He did not go to the television studio. Killjoy and Trench were as unbearable as most in Hell, and Alastor was not going to waste his valuable energy even being in their irritating presence. Besides, it looked as if poor Miss Morningstar's plea for her Hotel was not going well on-air. Meeting her at the place itself would do far better.

Or it would if she did not look as if she'd seen the Grim Reaper, and slam the door on his face. She did this twice before Alastor was able to get a word out, and then both her oddball fallen Exorcist--and lover, he realized very quickly, she was her father's daughter--and her seemingly reticent single resident were armed and ready to drive Alastor away. He had to hand it to her, it was rather an endorsement to already be hosting someone famous in Hell, even if this boy, Angel Dust, seemed incorrigible in his irredeemable hobbies.

Still, despite Vaggie and Angel Dust's extreme distrust, Charlie herself was....well, eager might be a kind word. Desperate, really, for support of the place. She accepted his offer of sponsorship, and in less than a day, there was a radio tower attachment added to the top of the run-down place, and Alastor made himself at home.

Once he was content with his wardings, including soundproofing, and had ensured that the assistance he brought along was settled in--Husker was not happy, but he never was, and Niffty already had a war waging with cockroaches--Alastor settled in at his desk, toying with the radio dials to find a specific, private frequency. "Well, you certainly were not exaggerating when you said that your child takes after you," was his opening greeting to his lover, learning back in his chair and propping his boots on the desk corner. "In looks and in enthusiasm for her passions."

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He seemed busy, scribbling away at paperwork and tuning his staff. But Lucifer was feeling exceptionally clingy, and Alastor was right there, so... there was nothing stopping the seraphim from slithering closer, until he could nudge himself underneath Alastor's free hand; as those red eyes peered down at him in bemusement, Lucifer blepped his tongue. He's too cute to refuse, Al! Give your King some affection.

When you spent enough centuries alone, you acclimated to not being needed. He was used to his space being empty, quiet around him, only interrupted by Niffty occasionally shuffling through to clean.

Since joining the motley crew of the Hazbin Hotel, he was seemingly never alone. Niffty, Husker coming to complain, Charlie wanting him to partake in their group activities, Vaggie wanting him to be nicer to Charlie, on and on and on. And then....there was Lucifer.

He set his cane aside, looking down at the big red eyes looking at him with the same batted lashes and innocence that his daughter tended to show. But it was entirely more effective coming from this Morningstar. "Very well," he said with a fond smile, nudging his chair back from the desk. "Come on, then." Alastor patted his lap, reaching out to stroke a hand lovingly over his King's head.

[kaianator-deactivated20250906]

Huskerdust anyone? (I’ve been pulled back into this fandom help)

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Oh, he was delicious. Normally to be denied, taunted that he had to earn something that he desired, would incense the demon. He had never liked refusal because it always stemmed from malice, the wish of another to have power over him, to see him fall behind or to hear him beg. He had learned very early in his human life never to give them the satisfaction of the latter.

But this? Something--someone--that he lusted for, very reasonably asserting that he had prove himself worthy of their submission? That was fair--and Alastor wanted to achieve it.

Lucifer appeared to not mind his maintain some of his clothing. It was one thing that Alastor recalled viscerally enjoying, a sort of psychological power balance....and if that was the sort of lover that Lucifer would be, then Alastor would find his way to meeting him halfway.

He was testing out as he went along....and the way Lucifer responded to the nipple stimulation was gorgeous. Alastor let his shadows wind out again, capturing Lucifer's wrists, moving them over his head and pinning them together in the tendrilled fingers.

"Tell me," Alastor purred, "what you like most. What foreplay makes you drip, my King. Tell me what you crave."

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The heat rising between them was nearly unbearable, and Alastor knew already that no matter how this night went--well, poorly, incredibly--it was going to have been worth it. The way that Lucifer swayed and moaned, how he arched under the demon's claws....

And then the seraphim kissed him, mouth pressing against his almost wildly, desperately, and Alastor stopped wasting his efforts on thinking. The only use for thought was noting reactions, and determining how to respond and repeat whatever had provoked them.

He grunted low as Lucifer pulled them both backwards, dropping onto his back and eliminating the decision. "You're the type to top from the bottom, aren't you?" Alastor growled, but his smirk betrayed his lack of annoyance. What else would be the case, with the King of Hell? Lucifer was no doormat. He might have a pillow princess side, Alastor would come to see, but dictating what he knew he wanted...that would be a positive.

And fuck, but the angel felt good beneath his body. Alastor rocked back against him, matching his rhythm, groaning low at his words. "Done." A snap, and his upper body and his feet were bared, leaving him in his trousers and nothing else. "Free rein, hm?" Testing that possibility, Alastor kissed his way down the King's throat to his chest, finding his nipple and sucking at it roughly.

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Well, this was by far the most erotic experience of his entire existence. The one prize he would have never dreamed he could come close to, let alone lay his own, "dirty" Sinner's hands upon.... So many idol-worshipped this angel, saw him as unapproachable, like the denizens of Heaven itself, and yet here he was.

Relatable, witty, a devoted father. A friend, a fighter for what he believed in. And, stripped down like this... Absolutely irresistable.

He could feel the King's words against his mouth, soft breaths so warm and sweet, Alastor wished that he could taste sound. He merely chuckled fondly at the "rebuke" for his excitement, because he had asked the question not truly thinking himself capable of impregnating the seraphim.

But Lucifer was feeling playful, too. Alastor groaned at his hips moving, their cocks rutting together through the fabric of his pants, and the King's shorts.

"And pretend I will," he growled. "I will see your belly bulge with my seed, darling." His hands stroked over that delicate waist again, down his hips, thumbs catching on his pronounced hip bones. "Now....shall I throw you onto your back, or twist you onto hands and knees before I bury my mouth in your pussy?"

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Oh, this was an intoxicating new type of power. Never in his brief, exploratory dalliances as a human had Alastor felt this sort of consuming pleasure as he got to know the nuances of the partner in his arms. He had learned mechanics, and he knew those would come in useful now...but the faces faded to nothingness in his memory, now.

Lucifer was a prize the likes of which he had never fathomed actually earning. That he was in the demon's lap now, negotiating the consent phase of what promised to be a night of passion, was a fever dream....and Alastor was ravenous for more.

Lucifer's tone turned more serious, and Alastor quieted to hear him out. His brows rose at the slightly ominous words...but as Lucifer continued, the concern melted back away in favor of lust.

Fuck. Not only did he look like an edible little twink, and smell like a fresh-baked snack, but he was built to be fucked by a top he would accept? Gods.

"That....." he said slowly, "is not weird. That is fucking incredible. Because I do wish to top, and to know that I can arouse you to the point that there is no risk of harm or pain is.....perfect." One of his shadows branched out, following his instincts, and slid up to form a hand, curling over the back of Lucifer's neck to bring their mouths closer together.

"You said heat," Alastor added, soft. "Is that....you....you can be bred?"