Lucifer x Alastor
It was rare to nearly impossible for Alastor to find himself in a need of desperation, especially for something 'so out of the question' -for his sake that is.
The only time the man found himself distressed was when he was on the brink of death or loss. The only time he cried in his adolescence, was before hell, when his mother passed.
Other than that, not one soul, not even himself, caught one tear shed from those cold eyes. He absolutely refused for it to be any other way.
Now, with only his soul remaining, a new body, a tail and pair of ears, Alastor was at a loss with this new.. 'predicament.'
Like deers, once every year, he experiences something very unpleasant: called rut.
Similar to earth, there is some concept of time regarding a sleep schedule, which is for the most part unnecessary, yet still followed.
On the other hand, things such as seasons are harder to follow with the noticeable difference in scenery down in 'God's basement.'
This means, to Alastor, rut usually appears randomly without warning, being an inconvenience to him with his line of work, and up-kept appearance.
Despite carrying the physical features of a prey animal, in the span of a year he made a remarkable reputation for himself as a powerful overlord, daring to even kill other overlords like himself, broadcasting their screams over the sirens of hell.
How could he let something like 'rut' potentially damage his image? He couldn't let others get any ideas now, could he?
During his time of rut, Alastor found himself lowering his limits and tolerance, regarding aggression and patients. These limitations already being significantly low meant more chaos for the hotel and the residents -even him himself understood this could not happen for the sake of this project.
Along with aggression was the physical symptoms he found more unbearable. The need for sexual relief was definitely one.
With all the 'ace in the hole' jokes came an understanding for the lack of want he felt towards such things.
It didn't repulse him per se: the deer has had his fair share of sex. However, it's always been something he found unnecessary. The times he participated in such acts was his time before hell, along with the odd display down here -if a soul was on the line.
What made Alastor feel so negatively towards rut was the vulnerability he continued to try so hard to keep under wraps.
He didn't dare let someone touch him in such a state. He couldn't allow someone to tend to him as if he were weak! The only time a person should be left 'vulnerable' was in battle, at the brink of death -this he didn't mind. Pain was something he liked, he allowed, whether he was receiving or inflicting it.
This is why, every rut he refused to relieve himself sexually, this meant himself and others.
This meant the sexual frustration his body took on built over the years of neglect, till eventually it was inevitable. After years of depriving his body of relief, this year's time of rut, completely broke him -and not in the way he liked.
Sat at the bar, he demanded drinks, his usual whiskey. What was unusual was the quantity he was demanding. "Another," he ordered, watching as Husk rolled his eyes, fetching another.
Husk wasn't stupid, despite selling his soul for a reason such as gambling, he was smart and observant. Whenever someone entered the room, Husk would watch, he'd listen, mostly in silence -other than the odd comment he made about him or she.
This was something Alastor always found interesting about Husk, but today, it made him that close to slaughtering him. Now of all times he did not want to be observed, especially under these conditions. But of course, Alastor couldn't murder the hotel's only bartender, who else would he have do the job?
