Zanders_gutz
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la petite mort – French: "the little death"; expression that refers to a post-orgasm sensation as likened to death, usually involving a brief loss of consciousness
Alastor sucks Vox's tongue into his mouth. Just a brief source of amusement, as far removed from lust as it gets. The experience is curiously enjoyable, the way Vox is clumsily trying to resist, turn his head away. Rubbing glossal muscles against one another feels the same whether the other party is reciprocating eagerly or trying to squirm away.
But, Alastor can sense the slight frequency of... not pain, coming from Vox. He'd hate to call it pleasure, which isn't entirely wrong, as evident by the distinct shape pressed against his thigh.
A web of saliva keeps them connected for an additional instance obscenely as Alastor pulls back. "You're enjoying this."
"I'm not– fuck!"
Alastor rocks his leg up.
Vox sucks in air, the thinnest whine caught at the back of his throat. "Al, look– I'm sorry!–"
"Shut up."
...
Or, Vox is being too showy with his attraction towards Alastor, so Alastor gives Vox exactly what he's been craving, whether Vox likes it or notSeries
- Part 1 of Alastor Owns Vox's Soul AU
Bookmarked by Zanders_gutz
05 Jun 2026
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A man’s going to die tonight.
Vincent Whittman is someone who inspires words like 'nice' and 'a little odd'. The kind of person whose darkest sin can only be bad tipping or disregard of social cues. Right?
Working at a New York television station, he's yet another man with ambition larger than himself.
Tonight, he's going for the throat, ready to seize his fate. Until a single misstep, one slip of a mask, in front of a stranger upends his entire plan and Vincent, the self-proclaimed master puppeteer, finds himself a mere marionette.The radio host from New Orleans, Alastor Hartfelt, cannot be conquered in ways Vincent employs. Faster than predator rips prey, Alastor uncovers truths about him Vincent hadn’t even known existed. Vincent's in trouble. Yet, he cannot stay away.
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or: Alastor visits NYC for unspecified business, and Vincent, an aspiring TV star and killer, is caught between desire for success and finding his own self. Desperate, he bends his career as control slowly slips through his fingers. Murder, obsession and unconventional romance ensue.Bookmarked by Zanders_gutz
02 Jun 2026
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“Do you think you’re funny?” He spoke with careful tongue, lit on fire yet cold as steel.
“I beg your finest pardon?” Alastor looked taken aback, though that smile persisted.
“Listen to me very carefully, Alastor,” Vincent continued, taking a deep inhale from his nose, “I cannot defend you if you continue to act like the guiltiest man alive. I will let you hang for your crimes, and I’ll go home with no qualm about it. So unless you want to give your life for your case, you need to work with me.”
OR
A suspected serial killer accidentally develops a crush on the polite lawyer he initially mistook for a secretary.
Bookmarked by Zanders_gutz
24 May 2026
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“I—wait. Forgive me, Vincent; you lost me on the last bit,” Alastor admitted, leaning forward. The shadows beneath the bar seemed to lengthen, mirroring his sudden unease. “Let you do what, exactly?”
Vox blinked, the bravado draining from his posture as he looked away sheepishly. His hand came up to rub the back of his cathode-ray tube head, the sound of synthetic flesh and metal a sharp, nervous scratch. “I asked if you would let me... hypnotize you. Y’know, during sex—"
Bookmarked by Zanders_gutz
12 May 2026
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"Al," Vincent said, and his voice trembled slightly, uncertain, "what exactly happened? I can't... Why can't I remember?"
Alastor smiled. It was a soft, warm smile, the kind of smile he used to disarm his prey before devouring them.
"Easy, dear. You took a hit to the head. The memories will come back with time. Or not. Don't worry, you didn't forget anything important."
Bookmarked by Zanders_gutz
10 May 2026