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greenandsorrow · 2 months

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the price for misbehaving (i)

Alastor in the rut x gn!reader

WARNINGS; 18+ below cut, reader with female parts, deer!demon!reader, doe!demon!reader, breeding!k1nk, primal instincts, premature ejaculation, horniness & hormones, mentions of deer mating season, dry humping, cr3am p1e, penetrative sex, marking & biting, masturbation, friends to lovers, very descriptive, smut with emotion, corn with plot, fictional man being pathetic

Banners from; @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and if you take inspiration for something similar don't forget to credit me.❤️

I somehow always manage to write more than originally planned, so this is big. Also, this is my first time writing a gender neutral reader I'm still learning.

my original idea ~following part~

Alastor is the radio demon. You have no clue how he manages to behave like he's the epitome of etiquette and a true gentleman, while also having the reputation of one of the most dangerous citizens of Hell, an overlord, a sinister killer and a cannibal.

Alastor is your friend. You fell in Hell three decades after him, but the fact that you're also a deer demon seemed to get him interested in you. His smile is less a sign of dominance and more one of sympathy around you. What's more, the radio demon is a tad bit protective when it comes to you. You'll never know it, but Alastor has his way of keeping you safe, discreetly pulling the strings, luckily for your sake.

He had been missing for years and when he had come to your door, big grin, shiny hooves and polished cane and had told you about the "Hazbin Hotel" you hadn't questioned much. It was weird that someone like him would back up Lucifer's daughter on such an idealistic plan, but with the extermination being a constant bane in your life, you had agreed heartily. You had wrapped your arms around Alastor's lean frame in a never recorpirated hug and you'd been off to your new place of residence.

You like the hotel. You and Niffty are old friends, the barman is a familiar face and Charlie is thrilled to have you here. The other residents have been no trouble to you, so you've managed to adjust to your new lifestyle no problem.

Let's not forget one thing though, you're all sinners and Alastor is ten times the amount you are. This comes with consequences for him. Alastor is bound to face an eternal struggle against his animal side, a struggle that he's been destined to lose. According to Angel, the radio demon you call your friend would identify as asexual had he been born later on Earth. But even with that, the urges he has to experience during the rutting season can't be prevented. You're still unaware your friend has to go through this.

But that's Alastor's price for misbehaving.

It's another evening at the hotel.

Charlie and Vaggie are on a date and that means no planned activities for the rest of you. You like the peace and quiet. Your deer ears are lowered in concentration as you're sitting on the couch of the lounge area, reading a book which has turned out to be a sick and twisted edition of Pride & Prejudice.

Alastor's been very distant since the beginning of autumn. More than usual. It's almost October now... and it has peaked your interest why he has been spending whole days locked up in his quarters. Sometime during September, you two had been chatting merrily about jazz, when all of a sudden his pupils had shrank and he had let out an uncharacteristically shaky sigh. You remember how his breathing had sped up and he had smiled politely before vanishing into thin air.

You're about to stand up and go to your room, when your ears practically perk up at the sound of static. You know this sound... and even though it usually means bad news, you look up and give the source of it a little smile. "Oh, hi Al..."

Alastor's antlers begin to grow, but he can control himself for now. The rutting starts hitting him with a new wave of frustration and it's getting worse now that he's in your presence.

"My favorite y/n! What are you reading my dear?", his grin and confidence hide how vulnerable he feels in this state.

"Charlie gifted me some of her old books and-"

"Oh Charlie! She is a gem, isn't she?" Alastor suddenly leans to the side, as if trying to scratch something out of his hair. His face quickly returns back to its normal grin... but he also begins to scratch his arm.

You chuckle awkwardly. Why is he looking so irritable?

"Well, she's so nice, I can't disagree with you there... and I'm glad she finally decided to take some time off to spend with her girlfriend." He laughs, showing off his sharp teeth as you initiate in the small talk.

Alastor can feel a voice deep within calling him to give in and claim you, breed you 'till his hunger is satisfied. The radio demon's expression fades to an empty, dull stare, as his instincts fight against him. Now you're feeling uneasy and you shift in your seat.

"Ah- sorry dear. Got caught up there, I forgot myself." Alastor takes a quick breath, his eyes narrow as he struggles to stay in control. "Don't you worry y/n! I'm certainly quite harmless."

He's in full rutting mode, his voice starts becoming breathy, the animalistic urges taking over. It's only getting worse as he stands close to you, the hormones increasing his urge to be near you, to make you his and his alone-

His voice is hoarse now and his breathing is heavier. "Have you seen Niffty by chance?" His ears move as if they're itching him.

You clear your throat and try to keep your curiosity regarding his behavior at bay. "I'm afraid I haven't, she's probably killing bugs somewhere..."

Alastor's expression shifts to one of pure annoyance. To your oblivious so far mind, Al is probably just pissed off at something. "Well then, if you happen to see her, do tell her she better not disturb me at my room... and don't you dare forget it my dear!"

"I- I won't."

His pupils almost completely disappear as he stares at you and his mouth curls into a snarl with his yellowish teeth out. He has a hypnotic effect on you, you're beginning to feel lightheaded being near him. He takes a step back, moving a safe distance away from you, because he feels like he's gonna launch on you at any given moment. Alastor is getting tired of trying to maintain his composure around you.

He hates how shallow his breathing has become, how the urge to take you has become too much for him to bear. A low growling noise escapes him. Alastor watches you as you resume your previous activity of reading. Humiliated from his lack of control and frustrated from the stinging sensation in his loins he slips away from the lounge.

Alastor is alone now, his eyes wild with lust and desperation as he looks around his room in a frenzy. He grabs a pillow and starts rubbing his groin against it. He feels like his body is melting from all the heat... he can't help but imagine the pillow is your backside.

"Oh~", he breathes out raggedly, his inhales shallower and shallower as his imagination toys with him. You'd look so delicious in the place of the lifeless pillow... Alastor's heart is racing and his antlers have grown sharp and tall on his head. He is overwhelmed, being rather sexually unbothered the rest of the year has made his shaft extra sensitive .

...why him? Why does he have to go through this rutting thing? It makes him feel powerless and he hates it...

Alastor groans in desperation. He squeezes his eyes shut, imagining your soft skin sliding against his body... He thinks of your cute fluffy tail. You get all your clothes tailored so that there's space for it to protrude... he always tucks his in his suit pants...

In a fury, he takes off his coat and crawls on the bed, placing the pillow between his legs. He's in all fours as he humps it like a real deer.

He keeps growling, the sound mixing with static. He can't stop thinking of you- the perfect mate... another deer. Alastor's mind is playing out all these amazing things, your smile and your voice, your butt, your ears that match his own... and your neck that he'd definitely mark with his teeth if he was ever given the chance.

Alastor is in a trance. With shaky hands he curses himself for, he reaches down to his crotch and takes out his cock. His tip is flushed and swollen and he hisses as he continues to push his hips against the pillow. The deer demon grunts softly, his hips moving involuntarily with restless abandon as he pretends to be mating with a partner.

"Take that... oh~" Alastor's cock throbs painfully, desperate for release. The pillow has been providing him with some much needed friction the last few weeks, but he knows it soon won't be enough to satisfy him. His red hair is sticking to his forehead and he's panting so much, chasing his release with a desperation he'd consider pathetic, if he could focus on anything else than his tightening balls.

Alastor continues to rub against the pillow and the motion makes his deer tail slip out of his suit pants. He can feel his body heat up even more, sweat beading on his forehead as he approaches his climax.

Your curiosity has gotten the best of you. You can't concentrate on your book and all you can think of is Alastor. In any case, the other residents of the hotel are busy doing their own thing, so there's no one stopping you from walking all the way to Alastor's rooms. There's static coming from his bedroom, but what really intrigues you are the groans... they're rather guttural... You assume maybe he hunted down an animal and he's devouring it? This has to be it...

On the other side of the door, Alastor is shaking with desire and his heart is pounding. The smell of you that he assumes is part of his fantasy is driving him insane, as he is almost ready to release a torrent of hot cum on his pillow.

"Alastor?", you knock on the door.

This sudden surprise almost causes Alastor to fall over. He quickly covers his twitching member and throws the pillow away from him. One would expect him to feel embarrassed, but his first thought at being caught red handed is to kill you. Luckily for you, it's just a thought.

"Al? It's y/n. Can I come in?"

The radio demon's face contorts in desperation as he realizes how unsatisfied he feels. His hips are still rocking back and forth slightly, despite his attempts to control his body.

Why did you have to pay him a visit NOW? He was so close to finding relief...

Alastor has become desperate and not to mention agitated. What if you smell his arousal in the air? What if you look down and see the outline of his dick in his pants?!

He groans and shifts uncomfortably. The demon closes his eyes for a moment as he tries to even out his breathing.

Eventually, he shakes his head and walks to the door. He has fought against mighty overlords, he shouldn't hesitate to face his harmless friend just because he is in the rut.

Alastor doesn't want to admit it, but he most definitely is in breeding mode. Proof of that... the moment he opens the door for you, your smell becomes so strong to his heightened senses that he almost cums in his pants from it. Your friend swallows a groan.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit my dear?"

Taking in his appearance, something is definitely off to your inquisitive eyes. You notice how he's only in his shirt and vest, something truly rare for the Alastor you've come to know. His bow tie is crooked and the cherry on top... you can see his tail! It's red like his ears and... moving? You wonder why. Is he in musth or something? you joke in your head.

"I was just bored in all honesty... Everyone is occupied with something. Um... you look... sick?"

"Ha!Ha! Don't be absurd y/n! You can't get any sicker than you already are in Hell!" he can't hide the slight edge from his voice. He claims he is fine, but the look on his face screams otherwise.

Alastor's temperature keeps rising, his body is so sensitive and without realizing it, he neglects to filter his voice.

"Would you like to come in?"

Your eyes widen and you look at him with genuine surprise clear on your features. He quickly catches up that he screwed, but lets it go, the shivers he's starting to experience as his unattended cock is asking for some action having gained all his focus.

The air in the room is thick and you begin to have second thoughts about your decision to come here, but it's too late for that, so you just walk in Alastor's bedroom. His quarters are always clean and intimidating like their occupant. Still, you like coming here, he's never been hostile towards you and if anything, dancing with Alastor or spilling some tea with him has always been part of your routine here at the hotel.

"Wanna dance?"

"You know I always do." Alastor manages to keep his smile and composure despite the sweat running down his back.

The jookbox starts playing on its own and you casually walk closer to your years long friend. Since he's always been much taller, you place your hands on his chest, while he wraps his own around your waist.

Alastor's lips start tingling as he looks down at your exposed neck. He bites the insides of his mouth until he tastes blood, he can't allow himself to think about you like that.

You sway back and forth in the rhythm of the old timey tunes, inevitably rubbing against him. The new found friction has him biting down on his tongue and clenching his fists behind your back until his nails are piercing his palms, otherwise he'd be howling out in despair.

Immersed in the songs you love so much, you unconsciously shift even closer to your fellow deer demon, but he harshly jerks away from you, his expression growing panicked. "H- haha... I c- can't let you d- do that my friend!"

You frown. Why can't you dance with him like you always do? ...and did the radio demon just stutter? You sigh at his lack of cheerfulness and look down.

Your now downcast gaze gives you a nice view of his... crotch area... and the said area has a raging bulge. Your first thought is to touch it and indulge in the attraction you've always felt for Alastor, but the way his antlers are growing right now and the static that's peaking up again... makes you turn to leave.

Long fingers wrap around your wrist in an instant and when you turn back at him, his eyes have changed.

"The song's not over dear y/n.", he says in the same strained tone and you swallow.

"R- right... my bad."

He has you pressed tightly against him in no time and he's swaying with you almost like he's on autopilot. And you can now feel his unbelievably hard erection against your lower body. Alastor grunts softly, his smile faltering as his cock keeps throbbing painfully within his pants, desperate for release.

The demon's eyes wander over you, taking in your form. He knows he has to maintain some semblance of control, but his hormones are off the roof. Without realizing the inappropriateness of his actions, Alastor reaches out to touch you, his fingers grazing the skin of your cheek. The demon's cock throbs even harder at the contact, leaking pre-cum in his underwear.

"You're so beautiful..."

Heat pools in your belly and your face flushes at his simple comment. He's a charmer, but that's new. His monocle slips down slightly as he leans in close, his scent of musk and arousal surrounding you.

Alastor's hands move to your hips, pulling you impossibly close. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with lust and a primal need. He presses his hips against yours and you can feel his clothed cock twitching eagerly.

His monocle falls to the floor as he loses himself in the rutting.

"Al- what's happening?"

Before you can question his unusual behaviour any further, Al presses his hardened length against your stomach with intent. A mix of frustration and pleasure is clear on his features.

To say you're surprised would be an understatement, but you don't stop him. You watch in awe as your bricked up friend loses himself to lust and his need to mate.

Your innocent dancing moment has turned into him dry humping you. He releases a guttural groan, too far gone to care about composure.

Alastor begins to grind against you faster, mimicking the movements of a rutting deer. His grip tightens around you, his need growing stronger and overwhelming. The bulge in his pants keeps pushing insistently against you, but you're so stunned by this turn of events that you grab him by the arms and take a step back.

Alastor's eyes flatter open and for a moment... he snaps out of his blurry state of mind. He straightens and clears his throat. He then gives you a stern look, with his ears lowered.

"Get out."

"B- but we were-"

"You don't want to make me repeat myself."

The moment he's alone again, Alastor works the buttons of his dress pants in a daze, freeing his swollen cock. A low growl rumbles in his chest and the deer demon is convinced that if he doesn't cum in the following minute, he's going to die a second time. He keeps making soft sounds, his body aching with the need to mate.

He had you right here, but he can't bring himself to be so vulnerable in front of someone other than himself.

What would Vox say if he found out that Alastor is forced to go through a mating season like some fucking animal? Why does the price of his sins have to manifest into some primal need to breed?

"Fffffuck!"

His mind gets fixated on the ache between his legs.

With an animalistic sound of pure lust, Alastor reaches down and wraps his fingers around one of his heavy testacles. He squeezes it gently, feeling his warm seed oozing out his slit. He leaks copious amounts of pre-cum on his crimson bedsheets. The radio demon watches, transfixed by the sight of his own seed dripping down the length of his hard dick. It's a powerful aphrodisiac for him and he can't help but imagine it spilling into you instead.

His cock twitches in anticipation and he gives in. Every day since the rutting season began, he has been trying to suppress his instincts and today has been no different, if anything, your presence made his hormones go even more nuts... and you should be happy you're not carrying his fawns by now.

Alastor begins to stroke himself, legs spread and sweat making his clothes stick to his body. His breath catches in his throat as his hips involuntarily back into his hand. The tips of his claws grow slightly and he's jerking himself off at a punishing pace now. Alastor's groans turn into pleasured whimpers as he arches his back, driving his erection deeper in his hand.

What would it feel like to finish inside you? To make you come... To have your heat contracting around his rock-hard member as you milk him past the point of no return?

"Oh- ...agh- y/n..." He's murmuring things in unknown languages, but it all comes back to your name.

Alastor's hips begin to thrust forward in time with his strokes, seeking release from the torment of his lust. He snarls and growls in a throaty manner. He physically can't take it anymore, his balls feel like they're on fire...

The radio demon's eyes roll back in his head, the pleasure is intense, but it's only fueling his desire for a real partner more. His fingers are sliding up and down his sensitive shaft and he can feel himself getting closer, but he knows that's not enough. Al's breath has become ragged, his monocle forgotten along with his pride somewhere far away... his vision is blurring...

Feeling himself nearing the edge, Alastor grits his teeth and pushes through the pain. His muscles tense... and then, he finally comes in a powerful burst of pleasure, shooting thick ropes of cum across the room. He keeps coming, his hips bucking upward, pushing his cock even deeper into his fist as he empties himself.

Alastor's orgasm was intense, almost violent, but it was the sweet release he's been craving all day long. As his climax finally begins to subside, the demon collapses back onto his bed, panting heavily.

However, his cock has remained hard and throbbing between his legs, demanding more attention as he tries to catch his breath.

Slowly, a tired Alastor sits up and glances down at his still engorged member. A part of him is reveling in the feeling of power that comes with being so thoroughly aroused. He needs to fuck something, anything, his eyes are gleaming with lust.

But hasn't he been tormented enough? Why isn't he satisfied yet?

He reaches for the nearest object. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it can take his powerful cock and bear the brunt of his ferocious passion. With a sinister chuckle, Alastor picks up another unlucky cushion and holds it tightly against his hips. His cock jerks repeatedly as he positions himself with the head of his shaft pressing against the soft fabric.

The cushion offers little resistance but serves as an outlet for Alastor's raging desire. He pounds away at it, relentlessly, his body shaking. With the ever present sound of static, evidence of his frustration, he rhythmically pistons in and out of his makeshift partner with brutal force.

He's been doing this for weeks now, all the unsatisfied hunger making him lose his sanity bit by bit.

The radio demon's eyes are glazed over with passion. He continues fucking the cushion with savage intensity... still he wishes he could take it out on someone made of flesh and blood, someone who would react and offer him some reassurance that he's not going to pass out.

The pleasure is threatening to overwhelm Alastor once again and with labored breathing, he frantically moves his hips-

"N- no, n- no....agh-" He lets out a feral roar, spurting a sticky cumshot onto the cushion. This time, when he collapses on the mattress, he is exhausted.

He doesn't bother looking down at his angry cock, the discomfort isn't going away till the mating season ends...

...let's go back to you now.

After being so abruptly pushed away by Alastor, you went straight to your room. You have a lot to ponder over after tonight. Maybe you did have a small a crush on your friend that had allowed the situation to escalate. His behavior has been so off putting though.

You'd been proud of yourself, considering that you know Alastor better than anyone else in Hell, since he talks about everything with you over a cup of tea. He had been so excited to tell you he'll soon be back on air and he's always somewhere around you at all times. So, the fact that he just expressed sexual desire for you and then told you to leave him alone immediately after...

You would have never guessed that your fellow deer demon is interested in sex. He's been in the company of some of the most desired demons, but he's simply not into that kind of thing... Yet, he had dry humped you like some desperate animal.

His scent had been so blissful to your nostrils, that he had almost woken something primal in your own body. There's definitely a lot of tension between you two now and you hope that tomorrow he will approach you.

You sigh and get all cozy under your bed covers. How should you deal with the situation at hand? You know him. Not just the radio demon, or Alastor the cannibal, but him.

Maybe the whole redemption thing is working, but when did you start being so considerate and thoughtful of other sinners' hardships? And if your friend's hardship is a constant hard on, perhaps your services will be appreciated... or you've just been hanging out with Angel too much.

It's a new day in Hell.

You take your time getting ready before joining Niffty in the kitchen to make breakfast.

Alastor is sat on his bed, his face buried in his hands as he trembles with unwanted arousal. He's almost at the point of a nervous breakdown. The radio demon is getting angrier with himself, the urge to find you and claim you is getting worse and worse and he struggles to maintain his calm.

Alastor gets ready. His routine a bit different when in rutting mode. He first relieves some of the pressure in his balls, he then puts on a clean shirt, fixes his hair and places his red monocle back in place. And of course, his smile, because he's never fully dressed without one!

"Oh good morning my fellows! What a pleasant breakfast you seem to be having!" He prefers to eat alone, so him appearing late isn't something worth noticing... but the tenting in his trousers definitely is... and when Angel smirks mischievously at him, Alastor smiles in such an unnerving manner that the spider demon has to cower behind Husk.

"Al! Morning!", you say a bit too cheerfully. Your deer ears rise on your head to match your general attitude.

The radio demon grins at you, internally relieved you're not keeping last night against him. He rarely feels any remorse (part of why he's in Hell), but he's not proud of snapping at you last night just because he's irritable and frustrated 24/7. You're a deer demon like him, but you never get in heat like an animal, you weren't as sinister as he was when alive and therefore your punishment isn't as tormenting.

You stand up and start gathering the dishes. Charlie is eager to help you, but you manage to deny her excessive kindness for once.

Alastor swallows a guttural growl as you turn your back at him and start walking to the kitchen, your deer tail and your ass all too enticing for him. His legs begin to move against his will, following you like he's being driven purely by instinct. He is once again biting his tongue hard enough to taste the familiar to him metallic taste of blood. There is a certain strain the urge is causing him... and for once Alastor is feeling desperate for touch.

"Angel and I are going outside today, he said he wants me to meet a friend of his... um, I think her name's Cherri or something." You obviously felt his presence, his red eyes feasting on your form the whole time.

"How delightful, making new acquaintances! I am still decorating my humble station. Haha!"

"Oh, I can't wait to experience your radio show again Al! It's been so long!" His arrogant smirk is accompanied by a twitch of his stiff dick. The energy boost he feels when you acknowledge his power... it makes him dangerously lightheaded.

He walks closer to you, looming right behind you as you stretch to put something on a high self. Alastor has you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. The demon's cock throbs painfully against the fabric of his pants. The said fabric growing damp as he grows harder.

With a frenzied urgency, Alastor gives in to his animal side and leans in, his hot breath in your ear is sending shivers down your spine, your pupils dilating.

"Do you even realize what you've been doing to me sweet y/n?"

He is getting impatient... and when you don't answer him immediately, he presses his tent against your ass. "Do you my little deer?"

The sound of static feels the air, his voice distorted and his breathing heavier than before. "You... have no idea how much I want- no... how much I need this, with you."

You swallow, your own breath has sped up and heat has pooled in your tummy again. But when you turn to look at him, you come face to face with a hideous creature with wild eyes. You flinch. Alastor's smile fails him and you swear you hear the most discreet of sniffles coming from him.

"Help me." That's proof enough for you that your friend is going through something he clearly didn't ask for, but it's taking over him anyway.

Angel Dust has described to you how he'd needed time to get used to having multiple arms and you have to file down your antlers daily, so that they don't overgrow and cause you headaches. Alastor on the other hand loses himself to primal urges once a year.

You lock your gaze on his and extend a steady hand, placing it on the side of his pale face. Not only does he allow it, but your small gesture seems to have an effect on Alastor, his demon form receding... and you can see how sweaty and shaky he really is, while trying so hard to hold back from bending you over the counter and taking you raw right now.

"Stay still..." It's now or never for you. You hesitantly cup the bulge on his pants.

Alastor gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he leans into your touch. He's already so aroused that any contact is sending shivers down his spine. He buries his face in your neck and starts nibbling or better... biting around your collarbones. It’s a cannibalistic urge of his, but he would kill himself before causing you any real harm.

Alastor groans, his still clothed member twitching under the pressure of your hand. The demon can barely think straight, his rutting instincts taking over completely.

"I need... I need to be inside you." He can only whisper, reaching down to pull your shirt up, his fingers trembling as he does, revealing your upper body to him. "Yes... I need you."

This is all so sudden for you, but you finally know with certainty what's happening. "You're... mating or something?"

You stop rubbing his clothed crotch and Alastor moans, the sound carrying the old audio like effect. He nods slightly, his hips bucking against your hand. He's so close to losing control. The mating season has driven him mad with lust. A lust projected on you it seems.

"Y/n... I need you now."

"Al... they- they're gonna hear us... we're in the frickin' kitchen! ...we can't...can't-"

Alastor's eyes widen and he stumbles back a step, his erection painfully asking to be freed from his dress pants. He looks at you incredulously, angrily. "What?! But I... I said that I need you." He starts panting, there's a look of betrayal on his face that has you short circuiting.

"I'm already half naked here and you're... you're obviously hard- it's too risky!"

"I. Don't. Care."

"Well you should... but..." you sigh.

"I do have another idea. I've been rather inactive in the afterlife but... I can do it for you."

Your friend's heart is racing with anticipation. He tries to control his unsteady breathing without much success. "Another idea?" He asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "What is it?"

"I know it's not what you really crave... but I can... you know... jerk you off?"

Did you really just say that?

He begins to unbutton his pants hurriedly. "Very well..." As Alastor's pants fall to his knees, he scratches his fluffy ears, presenting his throbbing member to you. It's a sight to behold; long with a shimmering dew covering the tip. "Do it."

Your mouth is watering as your eyes take in Alastor's cock. The head of it is a deep reddish purple, almost glowing with arousal. His ballsack hangs heavy, clearly filled with seed, so that he can breed for as long as the rutting lasts. Something must've altered in your brain's chemistry, because you take his balls in your hand, gently playing with them. The deer demon lets out a low moan, his hips thrusting forward slightly. The sensation of your hand on his sensitive balls is almost too much for him to bear...

"More..." he manages to whisper between pants.

Encouraged by his reaction, you squeeze his balls softly and Al lets out a throaty groan, his dick twitching almost ready to explode. He's not used to other people touching him.

You're still unsure if that's the right thing to do in the kitchen, where anyone can walk in at any given moment. But he seems to be really into it and the look in his eyes makes it clear to you that you can't just stop now. So that's what he's been struggling with, what's been making him stay locked in his room, until dealing with it on his own wasn't enough.

Alastor's gaze is pleading you and his voice comes out shaky, unfiltered.

"Please... I need more..." He then reaches down and moves your hand on his eager cock. You wrap your fingers around his length, with your thumb resting on his head, tracing it slowly. The sounds he makes and the way his features contort with pleasure makes you start stroking him.

The overlord can't believe what's happening. He has never experienced anything like this and it feels incredible. The more you stroke him, the more he bucks his hips into your hand. "Y- yes... just like that..."

You feel so confident now that he seems to have let go completely, allowing you to do as you please with his body. You know teasing isn't fair, especially in his hormonal state, but you can't help slowing down your hand's movements, playing with the friction you're providing him with. He lets out a frustrated huff of air, his nostrils flaring. "Faster."

"Nope, I told you I don't want anyone finding us out."

"I didn't ask you darling. It was an order."

You stubbornly slow down your hand even more and you know that this is far from enough for him. Alastor needs more speed, more pressure.

"I... Don't... Give a single penny if they'll hear us... J- just... y/n, get me there." His body trembles with need as he speaks to you.

"You... you accepted to help me... and yet you- you refuse to give me what I want." He looks down at your lips with a mix of lust and anger in his bright eyes.

You suppress a mischievous giggle. It's empowering seeing such a strong demon being dependent on you. You can feel the heat radiating from his dick and he makes a desperate little sound when you begin moving your hand up and down his long member again.

You almost feel pitty for him, teasing is fun, but you don't want to disrespect him or humiliate him while he's so vulnerable and not in control. Though that decision has nothing to do with the fact that he could kill you, you actually feel strongly for him and the way both pairs of your ears move in sink as you peak up pace is so... natural for you, like you two belong together in a primal sense.

Alastor feels his muscles tensing up and his black heart is pounding like crazy. "I can't- can't-" He looks mesmerized at your hand jerking him off at a now delicious speed.

You are so turned on and you want to give him all the pleasure you can in the hotel's kitchen. You begin to sink on your knees and you see him gulp. Your friend freezes for a moment, his mind racing with images of pleasure and ecstasy.

"That's new."

"How so Al?"

"I've never had that... but I want to now."

You can't help but smile. He probably never wanted a blow job before and he won't be in the mood for one after the rutting ends.

You're now at the right height so you just go for it, leaning in. Your tongue swirls around his pulsating cockhead and you're surprised from the amount of pre cum he can produce. Alastor's eyes roll back in his head as he lets out a long, low moan. The sensation of your warm breath and wet tongue on him sends shivers down his spine. "Don't stop..."

You lick his slit and he groans deeply, his eyes squeezing shut. "Yeah... Keep doing this... agh~"

You're offering stimulation and he's gritting his teeth at the feeling, but something isn't quite right. You're once again toying with him, denying him the release he so desperately wants.

"I will have you... eventually."

Alastor then takes a big breath, his cock is still hard as steel. "You're a real temptation-" He glares at you, rather hungrily, his nostrils once again flaring.

"Don't try to make me beg."

"But would you now?" Under any other circumstances, you'd never be that bold with him.

Alastor laughs darkly in response to your challenge, causing a cold chill to run down your spine. "You wound me, my dear. I would never beg for anything... especially not when it comes to satisfying this... this unwanted but still unyeilding desire..."

You smile wickedly, your deer ears conveying your feelings as always when they move. In a swift motion, but still cautiously, you push back his foreskin. A low, agonizing moan escapes Alastor's lips as your action exposes his sensitive flesh to the air. Hips jerking forward involuntarily, seeking more contact with your hand...

"You're killing me mon cher~"

"Buckle up Al..." You start stroking him with consistency now.

The radio demon closes his eyes, ragged breaths leaving his open mouth as you're jerking him off. Every fiber of his being is focused on the pleasure. He groans... feeling his elusive climax approaching at last. His monocle almost falls from his nose. "Unh..."

You're now applying some serious pressure on his throbbing dick. With a primal scream, Alastor's entire body tenses up and he begins releasing his seed on your hand.

"Oh goodness..." He keeps groaning and you can see him shuddering as he does so. He continues spurting thick, white fluid onto your hand, seemingly unable to stop himself.

In his eyes there's a mix of lust and gratitude. He licks his lips unconsciously.

"What else can you do to me?"

"W- what? Me?"

The demon chuckles lightly at your question. His eyes trail down your body appreciatively when you stand up. "And why not you? You're here and I need some action these days!"

He grins and you sigh.

"Well, that means it could be anyone... anyone other than me." You don't like how this revelation makes you feel sad and disappointed.

A sly smirk plays at the corners of Alastor's mouth. "I suppose it could, but then again, why settle for anyone when I can have you?"

His voice is husky and you like this tone from him. You and I belong together, dear y/n." He's clearly considering you his mate now.

Your romantic side wins and you cup his face. That seems to sober him up if just for a few minutes. The overlord looks like he's savoring the sensation and a deep sigh escapes him. "I don't deserve this, not with you y/n."

"But I do want to be present through this... I get it."

The glimmer of hope returns to his eyes. "You have to mean it."

"I won't leave you suffering alone Alastor."

He nods as he thinks this over. "In that case... I'll accept your offer."

You smile sweetly. This isn't that bad. He didn't even ask for a deal. You stand on your hooves and give his cheek a little kiss. He beams at you as he takes hold of his signature cane.

"Oh I think I'm going to enjoy this!"

"Haha, so do I... B- but let's make you something to eat before you get all excited again..."

"That's a wonderful idea darling! And I might as well tell you about Susan's new act while you're at it."

Alastor feels a warmth he hadn't in a long time. As you work on preparing food for him, he seems content and somewhat at peace. But then, like clockwork, the desire is going to build up again. Through the week the rutting hits him anew and he becomes extremely short-tempered. He has to change rooms when Charlie starts singing and he's constantly arguing with Husk.

Alastor surprises himself.

During the times he does manage to control his primitive urges, he's actually avoiding you. He has this idea that he would end up hurting you if things ever escalated fully between you two. Could this mean that he actually cares for your wellbeing?

He is an overlord. He is the one and only radio demon, there's no way he has a soft spot for his fellow deer demon... who had relieved him of weeks of pent up tension just with their touch.

You, on the other hand, feel no shame nor guilt for your little encounter with Alastor in the kitchen. If anything, the fact that he's still in his mating season is making you wet, longing for more.

One fateful night, all of you sitting together, you across from Alastor's armchair... and it's impossible to not look down. He has a prominent bulge and you're not even surprised. However, when you look back up, you freeze like a... well, you do freeze like a deer caught in the headlights, because he is staring at you so very intensely.

The air feels thick all of a sudden and his gaze implies many things, to your delight. He excuses himself shortly after, but not before giving you a slight nod. He wants you now. He needs you now.

Experiencing a slight Deja vu, you find yourself knocking on his door the very same night. The Deja vu intensifies at the sound of static coming from the other side of the door. You decide to let yourself in when there's no answer. "Al?"

A pair of big and intricate antlers comes in your vision. The smell of him floods your senses. It's intoxitacing, addictive. You want him too.

Alastor wastes no time.

He pushes you up against the nearest wall, his body pressing tightly against yours. His breath is coming in ragged gasps, his eyes full of lust and desire. The demon growls, baring his teeth in a feral grin.

In one swift motion, he tears your clothes from your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable before him. His eyes roam over your exposed flesh, his lips parted in a wicked grin. With an animalistic growl, he buries his face between your breasts, sucking on your nipples with rough abandon.

You moan and arch your back, the sensation sinfully satisfying. Noticing your response, Alastor's movements become even more frenzied. He reaches down to grip your hips, lifting you up onto the wall.

You then unzip his pants, lost in the haze of your increasing desire for him. Alasor groans when you do that, his hips bucking forward as you free his cock from its confines. It slaps against your lower stomach, rigid and angry.

With another feral growl, Alastor turns you around so that you're facing the wall, while he has a perfect view of your ass and tail.

You gasp as he parts your folds with his thumb, finding your dripping entrance. Maybe he's not that experienced, but right now he seems to be driven by some infallible instinct. His finger doesn't stay in your cunt for long though, since the man is getting desperate to claim you as his, in a much more effective fashion.

You turn you head to the side and lock eyes with him. You shiver, almost scared at the pure hunger on his face. He thrust into you with brutal force, driving his cock inside you deep and hard. His hips start pistoning against your ass, as he takes you without mercy. He's breeding, essentially. It's not meant to be slow or soft.

The gentleman you knew is gone for now, but you're digging your nails in his shoulders and letting out whines and moans nonetheless.

With each thrust, he growls like a beast, claiming his prize. Alastor's eyes are wild and feral, reflecting the primal lust that consumes him. His heavy balls are slapping against your skin. You're turning to jelly slowly but surely, surrendering to him in way that feels natural to you, not forced.

Your old friend grunts in both pain and pleasure, losing himself in the heat of the moment. His fingers dig into your skin, leaving marks on your hips that show his possessiveness of you.

You reach behind you, grabbing his thighs to somehow ground yourself from the onslaught of pleasure in your core. A guttural moan escapes him as you touch his sensitive flesh. His hips buck against yours, driving himself deeper inside you and your eyes roll back in your head.

Alastor continues to pound into you relentlessly, his cock throbbing with each powerful stroke. He's sweating and he starts taking off his clothes in a uncharacteristically clumsy manner.

He can't take it anymore, your tightening walls becoming overwhelming for him to bear. Feeling the pressure building within him, he growls low in his throat and picks up the pace even more.

The new speed he fucks you in has you seeing stars, the knot on your stomach snapping without warning. You cry out his name loud enough for everyone in the hotel to hear, but you simply don't care.

He moans your name as well, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives himself deeper into you one last time. His body shudders violently as he reaches the height of his own orgasm. Hot, thick cum is filling you up and there's so much of... It's dripping out of you and onto the carpet.

He finally did it. He's mated. He's bred you.

Spent and panting heavily, Alastor collapses on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder. You can feel his breath and teeth on your skin as you try to catch your breath. His dick is softening inside you, but he doesn't pull out just yet. His primal instinct is still active and making sure you take every last drop of his seed.

After you both relax in the present silence for a bit, he casually lifts you up and places you on the bed, the manhandling having you blushing profusely, but he doesn't seem to notice. He lets out a sound close to purring as he lays down next to you, spooning you.

You sigh, feeling exhausted and content at the same time. You roll over so that you're facing him... and he looks like he's already asleep.

Your heartbeat has turned back to normal and you find shelter in his long and elegant neck as you start dozing off into a peaceful and dreamless slumber.

He's not cold or ignorant the next morning. That morning ends up in him grasping at the air, as if searching for something to hold on to, as your head bobs up and down under the sheets.

It becomes a fact that Alastor's mood improves significantly after having sex with you. Something that does occur a couple more times in the spam of a week or so.

You knew the rutting was coming to an end when his desperate and forceful claiming, usually from behind, became passionate love making.

There was this one night...

Like a true gentleman of his time, Alastor had made love to you with deep, sensual thrusts as your hands had gotten lost in his fluffy hair. You had been underneath him.

Your orgasm had been accompanied by a soundless moan as you'd thrown your head back and he'd nuzzled your neck, breath labored and a frown on his face as he'd come after you. You had let him fall asleep on you that night, both of you panting, sweat covering you.

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he is asleep you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless next him. So you gently start caressing his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch, without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one.

Is this love? Maybe someday.

The End??

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stressfulsloth · 10 months

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I've seen a couple of takes about Disco Elysium being copaganda going around recently, and beyond the fact that DE is relentlessly critical of the police force in general and makes explicit reference to the failures of the system that allow the officers in game to abuse their power, I also think it's important to note that there very literally is an in-world version of copaganda that the writers of the game use to parody that romanticised view of the brutality of policing. The RCM at their inception were structurally inspired by in-world copaganda- their culture, their "fashions, even weapon preferences, borrow heavily from classic Vespertine cop shows." Every investigation is it's own little drama, every officer imagining themselves to be the bad-ass hero of their own crime serial. Detectives name their cases like they're naming episodes of a TV series in a "robust but literary system"; a title that "draws inspiration from snoop fiction and Vespertine cop show staples". They give themselves nicknames to sound like cool, suave fictional officers- Ace, Dick Mullen, etc.- from the cool, suave world of copaganda.

The legend of the RCM's inception, the "point of contention" over its uncertain origins, is even an extention of that; the whole organisation is shrouded in this self-fictionalising mythos that allows for distance that in turn obfuscates much of its violence to the officers that participate in it. They get to convince themselves that they're not abusing their power; they're the hero of the story! The dichotomy of "good guy" taking out the "baddies," a manifestation of the libertarian fantasy of the "good guy with a gun" who does what it takes, just like in Annette's detective novels, and at the same time who rails against oversight bodies like Internal Affairs/'the rat squad' because due process slows down the immediate satisfaction of Swift Justice, despite Internal Affairs existing to protect the citizens from overreach on behalf of the police. "Wanton brutality" from police in their real world is a cold bitter reality but Dick Mullen was "made to crack skulls," "bend the rules and solve cases no one else can," and which version of that story is more comforting to the overworked, underfunded officers of the RCM?

The level of fantasy and detachment required for the cops to still see themselves as the good guys after everything that they do in the line of duty mimics The Pigs and her breakdown too; she parallels Harry so clearly. Both "did right by the kids" in the past, hoping for a better future- Marianne (The Pigs) by looking out for Titus and the Hardy boys when they were young, Harry in his role as a gym teacher. Both abandoned and left behind by the system that the RCM uphold- a brutal capitalist landscape with no safety nets. Both turning the source of their trauma into a costume, a performance, a shield, shaped by "radio waves and cop shows." The Pigs uses RCM items scavenged from the Esperance where they'd been thrown away, while Harry uses the Dick Mullen hat that Annette gives him but both are essentially in costume.

Harry identifies himself with the fictional detective as a kind of wish fulfilment; Dick Mullen is "wicked smart." He doesn't fuck up his cases and when he's sad it's not pathetic; it's effortlessly cool brooding and everyone sympathises. Everyone loves him. His violence- "skull crack[ing]"- is justified because he's a "good guy" enacting that violence against the victims of police brutality sorry "bad guys". He doesn't ever face repercussions; "Dick Mullen won't be sent to the clink for the sake of some legal niceties!" So if Harry is Dick Mullen then his failures, his breakdown, they're all just a part of being a "bad-ass, on-the-edge disco cop." He's not wrong, he's a hero! This idealised fictionalised idea of the police force, this "new, sadly better, reality" that both Harry and The Pigs cling to is "escapist stuff," "receed[ing] into a ludicrous fantasy world," so far removed from the brutal material reality that they're in.

My point is, idk. Disco Elysium is so far from being copaganda. It is a multi-million word long dissection of it, of the purpose of policing, of state sanctioned violence and its interaction with capital and the fallout experienced within the wider community as well as the trauma cycle created for individual officers. A dissection of how copaganda interacts with RCM culture and perception, and by extension how we interact with irl perceptions of police through that lens.

#ouaghhhhhhh disclaimer; i am bad with words and im not sure that i've properly expressed what i'm trying to say but this is getting so long #the cops are not meant to be the good guys #if you think i've missed something here pls let me know!!#disco elysium #harry du bois #DE rambling #marianne leplante #the pigs #actually just one last note- this isnt in response to any one particular thing ive seen but a few different posts comments and articles

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pansear-doodles · 4 months

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My new iterator OC, Messages From the Stars

Messages was built on a high peak mountain for better use of their primary function: to signal boost and communicate to all in the local group, even outside of it, stretching miles and miles from their area.

They had various radio towers and their city houses communication arrays rather than cities, as it was too harsh for their citizens to live there. There were cave systems that were used as temporary homes during their construction- once construction finished, only very few citizens remained for maintenance, before eventually they left too.

Messages is able to prevent slag buildup thanks to the mountain's natural spring waters, which were the cause of the cave systems. Overtime, the cave systems expanded, allowing flora and fauna to reside, sheltered from the harsh climate. Many creatures adapted to the dark cold environment- primarily lantern mice and a distant cousin of the scavengers called yetis, larger in size and denser fur, they were one of the many predators of lantern mice and other smaller creatures.

One day, Messages received a signal that caused their entire superstructure to rumble violently, creating a landslide that decimated all of their remaining communication arrays. Their can is engulfed in a mixture of earth and snow, but the heat of the structure was enough to create a small crevice on one side of the can. Unable to communicate to the others, Messages started to modify nearby fauna. They managed to figure out that Lantern Mice are the only reliable subjects, thus has trained and created a new subspecies of lantern mice called star mice. They had larger ears, a pouch to carry pearls and a star shaped tail to indicate Messages's ownership of them.

The star mice gained a sapience similar to slugcats, creating their own communities and self awareness of the steel god. They were loyal to Messages and were their only sense of company, being isolated from the rest of the local group. The only iterator that they're able to communicate well with still is Nine Linen Lanes, who is nearby. They became reliant on sending them information and gaining some back, eventually becoming close friends. Lanes would occasionally send back the star mice with gifts such as knitted clothes and heat sources to keep Messages and the mice warm.

Messages is lonely and since their isolation, has grown cold and standoffish. Their way of speaking became less friendly, although those who know them well such as Lanes and the mice can see past that, and know that deep inside, they're actually quite kind. They oftentimes find distractions in creating poems, embedded on the endless amount of pearls they have. Sometimes the mice would accidentally bring these alongside the intended packages. These poems are described as dainty at best.

#rain world #rainworld #oc #my art

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radioscribbles · 2 months

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May i request a Human Alastor x Gn Detective Reader? where reader is a threat to his killings and is unaware that al is the serial killer

Alastor x Reader -

New Orleans Noir

Details: Human!Alastor x GN!Detective!Reader Warnings: Talk of murder, alcohol, Alastor thinks about killing you Author's note: Thanks for the request! This is my first piece of writing in ages, I hope it's up to par. Sorry there's not too much romance, but I was getting more of a noir film vibe from the request, along with a little angst potential. Not beta read <3 Word Count: 1.562

You had been investigating the infamous New Orleans serial killer for months with no proper leads. Whoever the killer was, they were too meticulous to leave behind any incriminating evidence, or anything at all for that matter. You were frustrated beyond belief and were drowning your irritations in a glass of whiskey at the bar, when the voice of a local radio show host caught your attention. It wasn’t really his voice that captured you, it was his report on the murders…his very detailed report.

You suspected that this radio personality had some kind of inside information. It didn’t take long for you to arrange a date at a diner to talk, or rather to interrogate him.

What you didn’t expect was for this radio host, Alastor, to be exceptionally charming and pleasant to talk to. Several times he managed to steer the conversation away from your case, but you always managed to catch yourself and return to the topic at hand.

This first meeting was just the beginning of what would become one of your biggest lessons.

Alastor knew he was toeing the line by broadcasting news about his own killings. But it excited him. He had the whole town wrapped around his finger, captivated by his stories. None the wiser they were listening to the killer himself. A flock of sheep swaying to a wolf's song.

Still he was surprised when a detective demanded a meeting with him. Not that it was a problem. He could easily manipulate them into turning their attentions elsewhere.

But this detective was stubborn. Alastor realized he wasn’t going to get them off his case and decided on a different strategy. What’s the saying? Keep your friends close. Keep your enemies closer.

In the end, you settled on a deal. Any and all info Alastor received from his “sources”, he reported directly to you before broadcasting them. Of course Alastor didn’t demand anything in return. After all, what law-abiding citizen wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to help his community?

You started to meet weekly. Most weeks he didn’t have anything new, and even when he did, you couldn’t really do much with the information. Rumors about enemies the victims might have had or hear-say about what the killer might look like, but nothing of substance.

Weekly meetings turned into daily lunch breaks, and daily lunch breaks led to relaxed evenings at the bar. He was charming, ever the gentleman and he shared your taste in music. Before long you couldn’t deny the bubbling feelings in your chest any longer, but it would be unprofessional to start anything as long as the case was still open. Too dangerous to drag him into this mess even more than you already had. So you kept quiet, enjoying his company, murder-related or not.

Just like tonight. You’d met at a restaurant close to the radio station Alastor worked at. It had become one of your common meeting spots after Alastor recommended it for a good steak and cheap drinks. Although at the moment, you couldn’t enjoy either.

“What’s with the long face, my dear?” Alastor asked with that dashing smile he always sported. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was mocking you with it.

“Take a guess.” You said while downing your drink, gesturing to the waiter for another one.

“Ah yes, the body they found.” Alastor cut into his bloody steak. You couldn’t even muster the appetite to touch your own plate. “I assume your work day has been quite stressful, hmm?”

“Stressful doesn’t even cut it, Al! I feel…” You stopped to regain your composure, your sour mood almost had you yelling in a public space. Can’t have that.

“People are dying on my watch. Everyone is relying on me to catch this bastard and I’m letting them all down. I feel so fucking useless.” You said eventually, in defeat.

Alastor took a bite while studying your face. That unreadable smile still on his face.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Y/N. Perhaps it’s time for you to take a break. A fresh mind might lead to fresh revelations.” He said in his sing-song voice, apparently not nearly as bothered as you.

You looked at him like he said the stupidest thing you’d ever heard.

“Al, there’s people that are dying.”

“You’re not the only detective in town.”

“I’m the only one with an informant. Although none of your tips have lead me anywhere!” You hissed. He continued to stare at you with his never wavering smile, and you immediately felt guilty for your outburst.

“I'm sorry, I know you’re just trying to help.” You said while rubbing your forehead.

These past few nights had been terrible. You barely slept at all and your nerves had been about to snap all day. You sighed in relief when the waiter arrived with your drink. You gave an appreciative nod before taking a sip.

“No offense taken, Detective. It’s evident you’re passionate about this investigation and I’m sure the whole town can sleep better knowing you’re on the case. No one wants a serial killer sneaking about their neighborhood.” He said in a light-hearted tone while cutting into his steak once more.

That reminded you. Your head snapped up and you looked at him wide-eyed, reaching a hand out to him.

“Al, your neighborhood. I completely forgot to tell you! We’ve compared the areas the bodies were found in and we were able to narrow down the general location of the killer to your neighborhood.”

He stopped mid-cut.

“Did you now?”

You put your hand on his forearm and he looked up at you with his piercing eyes. A gaze you’ve come to grow quite fond of during your time together.

“This is not public information, I’m telling you this as…a friend. Be careful out there.”

You said, real worry in your voice and on your face. Alastor gave you a soft smile in return, although his eyes held something different. Probably from the shock.

“Of course, my dear. I would suggest you be careful as well. Your job is much more dangerous than mine and I’d hate if anything happened to you.”

He finally took his bite, never breaking eye contact.

Alastor knew the best course of action would be to kill them.

They were getting close. Too close for his liking anyway. In the beginning it had been amusing, handing out false information, throwing red-herrings and leading the detective on a wild-goose chase around town. His personal game of chess, with his opponent not even aware they were playing.

But he couldn’t deny Y/N was a real threat. They were intelligent, cunning and witty. Pleasant company, yes. But also dead-set on catching the killer. And their latest revelation only solidified what Alastor knew was coming. One of them would have to go.

Now back in his apartment, he leaned back in his armchair and got to planning.

It would be quite easy, he assumed. He’d lure them to a secluded location with the promise of a new lead. Perhaps he’d tell them they would be meeting with one of his “sources”. It wouldn’t even be that big of a lie.

The detective trusted him, he was sure. They’d turn their back to him and then…

Alastor shuddered.

Normally the thought of killing someone was exciting. But the detective was a different story. He hadn’t expected to take a genuine liking to them when they began their little collaboration. But then he started to look forward to their meetings. And after months of shared dinners and drinks they had managed to capture Alastor in a way few people had managed to before.

They were an equal to him.

Perhaps them being a real threat played a part in Alastor’s hesitation. The game they were playing brought him joy. Sometimes even motivating him to go for a new kill. Anything to get his detective’s attention once more.

Then there was the other reason. Most of his victims really deserved to die. Sure, maybe it wasn’t Alastor’s place to judge, but he wasn’t wrong. The detective however…

They were good. Righteous. Willing to risk their life for the safety of the city. In some ways Alastor thought they were stupid for it. But he couldn’t help but find it endearing as well. Their blood-shot eyes after yet another all-nighter were pathetic, but he couldn’t look away. Their rambling about theories both annoyed and intrigued him at the same time.

He couldn’t get a grip on his feelings. The thought of killing them unnerved him, but the thought of being caught was simply unacceptable.

He got up, now frustrated. Perhaps he needed to let off some steam. Clear his head and then make a proper plan. Maybe he didn’t need to kill the detective. There could be other ways. He could frame someone else and then lay low for a while. Continue his killing somewhere else. Or have something happen that rendered the detective…unfit for work. He’d figure something out when he returned.

For now, he needed to focus on his next victim. Some abusive asshole he knew would be at a bar on the other end of town. He had him picked out for weeks already and knew his routines. Just a simple kill to get his nerves under control.

A shame he didn’t know it would be his last.

Requests are open <3

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #human!alastor #my writing

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phoenixyfriend · 2 months

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Calls for Action, Call Your Reps: 2/13/24

This is USA-specific, as that is the place I live and know.

Find your elected officials.

Today, much of my information is coming from Democracy Now!, which I generally listen to as a podcast (functionally, it is a radio news broadcast, like NPR or BBC), and I am quoting from the text versions on their website.

The Senate passed a $95 billion military funding package for Ukraine, Israel and Taiwan in the pre-dawn hours this morning. But the bill’s fate remains unclear after House Speaker Mike Johnson dismissed the measure over its failure to include hard-line immigration restrictions. This comes after Johnson and other Republicans rejected an earlier version of the bill which did contain the border crackdown they had demanded. Johnson has told Republican congressmembers he will call a House vote on a stand-alone funding bill for Israel.

From the same page, we are hearing that President Biden is urging Israel to refrain from invading Rafah, where a million or so Palestinians are currently sheltering, but is not actually threatening any kind of repercussions for said invasion. Reports from both official sources (e.g. the Hamas-run health ministry) and less official (e.g. American doctors returning from relief services in Palestine) indicate that over half of the deaths in Palestine are children.

I am not going to pretend that I know what is going through Biden's head.

Both House and Senate:

Reinstate funding for UNRWA. While the claims made by Israel that employees of the relief agency were involved in Oct. 7th are troubling, THEY are not well supported, and western officials did not do their duty in investigating the claims before cutting funding. This arm of the UN is currently providing food, water, shelter, and medical care to the 2.3 million displaced peoples of Gaza. It is especially disturbing and concerning that the many children of Gaza, who are already suffering due to this conflict, are now having this support revoked. Many sources are also claiming that the evidence is flimsy at best.

Urge both Senate and House to refrain from funding Israel, or to at least put some strings on it. The IDF cannot be given funding without some regulations on what they can do with it. They have proven that they are unwilling to take steps to protect civilians.

FOR THE SENATE: Urge your senator to put their support behind Bernie Sanders and his motion to restrict funding to Israel until a humanitarian review of the IDF’s actions in Gaza has been completed. Cite it as Senate Resolution 504 if your Senator is right-wing enough to react negatively to the mention of Sanders by name. NOTE: This resolution was TABLED by the Senate on 1/16, but it is being brought back in as conditions continue to escalate.

FOR THE HOUSE: Urge your representative to put their support behind Rep. Rashida Tlaib’s petition for the US government to recognize the IDF’s actions in Gaza as ethnic cleansing and forced displacement, and put a stop to it. ALTERNATELY: recommend that they support House Resolution 786, introduced by Rep. Cori Bush, Calling for an immediate deescalation and cease-fire in Israel and occupied Palestine.

On the House Floor this week, to call your rep about:

H.Res. 994: Married persons tax break. Vote nay. Loses billions in tax revenue and explicitly targets green energy.

H.R. 2766 and H.R. 4039: Condemnation of China's actions against the Uyghurs. Can't tell you which way to talk on this. Seems good on the surface, but given who's presenting it, I worry there's something worse tucked into the text. Hopefully someone can provide a better take.

H.R. 3016: IGO Anti-Boycott Act. Vote Nay. This appears to be intended to force US companies to do business with US allies instead of participating in boycotts. This appears, to me, to be an attack on movements like BDS. To Dem Reps, argue that this refuses the right of peaceful protest to US citizens. To Republican Reps, argue that this is a dangerous government overreach and that it is not the right of the government to force US citizens to purchase products and materials from specific foreign partners.

H.Res. 966: Condemnation of sexual violence perpetrated by Hamas against Israel on Oct. 7. Vote Nay. We know sexual violence is bad. Hamas has already been condemned for their actions. This is, at best, lip service. It is a waste of time. There are much bigger, more impactful things to work on, and this is going to waste time and resources in the Senate if it passes.

If you wish to support my political blogging, I am accepting donations on ko-fi.

#Phoenix Politics #current events #united states #are you guys interested in me continuing to do this? should I start including my ko-fi link?#Israel #Palestine #Gaza

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ikkosu · 13 days

Note

So you know when you wear shorts in summer in a car with a leather seat that your legs stick to it sometimes? I've actually almost fallen out of car bc of that. And because of this experience, may I request this happening to the reader with any autobot of your choice?

THROUGH the glaze of the windshield, traffic churns at a slow, steady pace. Pistons chuff, creak and groan; beaten down by the glare of the sun, little by little the mottled blurs of car start to file out.

Everytime, you think you're going to wrangle out of this hellhole — a wide gap-like opening, blaring out like the heavens for freedom — you find yourself stuck in another junction, relapsing in the same fucking problem.

Stuck in the same place. Between mesh metal of blistering, practically burning from the sun, hot cars.It also doesn't help how raw to the bone hot the weather is.

Heat is seething through the Aircon. You're practically drenched, and the discomfort of having an already wet shirt matted to your wet spine is exacerbated by the goddamn ire before your eyes.

There's a truck, in front of you.

A very old truck.

And, fast?

Not it's greatest virtue.

A lump of irritation bites its way through your teeth. The backside of the truck sputters with black fumes. You're about to relinquish the title of an honorable citizen, when the radio warbles with a staticky breedle.

"You're getting sweat all over the seats, pipsqueak." Comes his sardonic chuff. The insignia lits up with every sass induced spool of his words.

At that you lift up your thighs, a kind of schlap followed after as a result of very sweaty skin latching on leather.

"Suck it cop-bot," You pat the steering wheel. "That's what you get for having shitty air conditioning."

A growl revved up from the engine. The wheel whirls away from your touch three-sixty at max speed.

"You can't expect me to accept the blame, can I? When all there is out there under that— that blisteringly — whatever you call that slag of a weather, is hot fraggin' air."

You blink at the sudden venom in his tone. Prowl's usually, eh usually, the type to keep it down when he's about to lose it : a scowl and a sharp tongue is good enough for lacerating the source of his ire.

For him to snap? Yikes. That takes a lot. A hefty lot. Even with Smokescreen, concierge of shenanigans — worst he's got is a swift chuck to the brig and cleaning duty for a year. And, that's just with a scowl and a low, steady tone.

Guess Cybertronians aren't immune to hot days, either huh. Sun's that bad.

"Is it getting to you too, Prowler?"

"What do you think?" He bites back. "Look at the thermometer. It's exceeding above the usual range of what a normal temperature should be. It's draining up the power in my cooling fans which drains up my fuel, which drains up energon. Which, at this moment, is scarce."

"Hard times, Prowler." You shake your head solemnly. "Hard times."

"You don't get a say in this." He grits out.

The car leers forward with a sudden jerk and your forehead kisses the steering wheel. Not the flat surface where the insignia lies but the edge. You know, the round handle? Bubbles of pain shoot out from the spot and you groan.

"What?" You whined. "It's already hot enough with my ass sticking to your seat — you can't leave me with any more bruises worse than this, alright?"

"Then keep that mouth shut. Or I'm shutting it off for you."

" We're stuck in traffic, though." You grope the steering wheel, grinning at the irritated growl of an engine when he tries to steer it away.

"Will you cut it."

"Hunkering down on a quick brawl in the street doesn't really contribute to the whole," You waggle your hands. " bots in disguise, kind of thing. Not really your style. Doesn't fit you, prowler. Doesn't seem to fit the muse of a..." You trail off, playful and purposeful with your tone. "...law enforcer."

He's quiet for a moment.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh."

He laughs : a quick sarcastic 'hah' and a chuff.

"Get out."

Yep. There, it is.

"Duly noted."

Your fingers wrangle the door knob. And, as soon as you struggle to pry it open you realize Prowl is keeping it locked.

"Where'd the angry coppa go?" You huffed.

"Oh, you'll see."

"Open the—huh?"

Your fingers grasps the open air, twitching around nothingness. The momentum propels you to slide off your sweat-lathered seat, lurching forward and face first into the hot, concrete road.

#any autobot = my husband prorlotl #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw prowl #prowl x reader #prowl #idw prowl x reader #😭😭😭 its literally so hot here im melting into a fugcking pufdle fam

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zvaigzdelasas · 2 years

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Radio Free Anglosphere - Britons & Occupied Irish forced to mourn publicly on day of leader's death

Citizens must refrain from shopping, recreation, even laughing as country remembers life of Elizabeth Windsor.

Britain and the Ireland Occupation Authorities are forcing residents to observe an 11-day period of mourning in the wake of former leader Elizabeth Windsor’s death on Sep 8, sources in the country told RFA.

Windsor succeeded her father, who acceded to the throne in 1936 upon the abdication of his brother, King Edward VIII, making Elizabeth the heir presumptive.

Elizabeth Windsor’s rule coincided with one of the darkest periods in Britain & Northern Ireland's history

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whats-another-song-contest · 3 months

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In a statement published the same week as the first Melodifestivalen semi-final, more than 1000 Swedish artists ask the EBU to exclude Israel from this year's Eurovision Song Contest, including 2 acts participating in this year's edition of melfest: Jacqline, and both members of Medina. Also among the signatures are former melfest participants Johan Hirvi (Panetoz) and Alvaro Estrella, as well as former winners Eric Saade and Malena Ernman.

Some other notable signatures belong to Robyn, First Aid Kit, Eagle-Eye Cherry, Petra Marklund (also known as September), The Wannadies, Thomas Stenström, Miriam Bryant, Sabina Ddumba, Daniel Adams-Ray, Timbuktu, Kaliffa and many others whose names I recognise but I'm too unfamiliar with the contemporary music scene to know their work.

Below is my translation of some parts of their statement, as well as sources:

Note: The bold parts are also bold in the original statement. I have tried to use the same terminology as the statement, but I'm no expert, so be aware that there can be some mistakes.

The first link includes the full statement in Swedish as well as a list of all the signatures:

[...] What is happening in Gaza is a humanitarian disaster and the International Court of Justice in The Hague has recently decided to continue the case where Israel is accused of crimes against the Genocide Convention. Despite this the European radio- and TV-union the EBU intends to allow Israel's participation in the Eurovision Song Contest 2024. The EBU grounds its position on Eurovision being a competition between public service companies rather than states. But in 2022 the EBU chose to exclude Russia by reason of the invasion of Ukraine, and in 2021 the participating broadcaster from Belarus was denied participation because the country broke the EBU's rules for the freedom of the press. In barely four months about 100 Palestinian journalists have been killed, and foreign press has been denied access to Gaza. It is one of the greatest attacks on journalistic freedom in modern times. We are of the opinion that the EBU by allowing Israel's participation displays a remarkable double-standard that undermines the credibility of the organisation. [...] We expect both the EBU and this year's host broadcaster SVT to be consistent in their approach towards participating countries that infringe on democratic values and human rights.

[...] We who sign this are 1000 artists who believe in music as a unifying force. The Eurovision Song Contest began as a peace project to unite countries and citizens through music. To allow Israel's participation undermines not just the competition's spiritual intent but the entire public service mission. It also sends the signal that governments can commit war crimes without facing consequences. That is why we ask the EBU: Exclude Israel from the Eurovision Song Contest 2024.

#👏👏👏👏#melfest #melfest 2024 #eurovision #eurovision 2024 #schlager nerding

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onesettleronebullet · 4 months

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Internally Displaced Persons living in Shagara area, West of El Fasher town, North Darfur State are facing a major water shortage. The IDPs are suffering from a severe scarcity of water supplies, especially after the area received not less than 5,000 displaced people who fled Tawila Locality and other neighborhoods in El Fasher. Sheikh Haidar Musa, who spoke to Radio Tamazuj on Thursday, said the crisis is compounded by the battles between the Sudanese Army and the Rapid Support Forces. Musa said locals have resorted to contribute fuel to resume pumping water into the sources to alleviate the suffering. Engineer Abdul Shafee Abdullah Adam, Director of the Water Sector in the state however said water supply services were affected as a result of the lack of fuel and the power outage. However, he welcomed any popular initiative to provide water to alleviate the suffering of the citizens in El Fasher and Shagra regions in particular. Adam appealed to El Fasher and Shagara local authorities to jointly find a solution to the water shortage in the greater El Fasher countryside locality.

06/01/2024

#Sudan #radio tamazuj #die nuus

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heartelysia · 4 months

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tomb for two

cr: lalalycheeee

"dance with me the gallowdance" ; in which you can't stand the mercenary but he's determined to change that.

cw ; special jill appearance, caught, semi-public sex, train sex, hatefucking/hate sex, rough, enemies to ?, forced eye contact, p in v, begging, coworkers to ?, viktor mikhail appearance

note ; another repost from my ao3! ill work on a new piece (soon) :3

you hated him. you hated - no, despised - everything that he had to offer. so your first meeting sure was unfavourable, even if you both were in the UBCS.

"did the UBCS really hire a mercenary captain?", you said, your usually soft voice carried a heavy weight of malice and disdain. Viktor chuckles, glancing at you as he notices the big change in your demeanour as Carlos' heavy steps echo in the barren train carriage.

the mercenary avoids your harsh glare, simply scoffing as he exchanges greetings with the captain. your ears perk up at the sound of softer footsteps approaching, slowing down as their boots hovered over the gap between the platform and train. you glance at the figure, a beautiful brunette girl who had blood splattered on her body with a few minor scratches.

you render their rather lengthy conversation out from your ears, the sound of feet scuffling from the next carriage of citizens filling your senses as your gaze stares intensely at the special tactics officer. raking your eyes up and down her, almost like you were trying to carve a mental image of her in your mind.

"hey y/n."

the husky voice rips you out of your trance, you glance over at the source of the voice, your captain. the older male flashes you a small smile, "go with carlos. you two need to learn how to bond anyway.", he said with the heavy accent everyone recognised him for. your face scrunches up into one of disdain as you begrudgingly sigh, pushing yourself off the walls of the train, you wouldn't want to disrespect your superiors anyway.

jill's eyes follow your movements curiously as you snatch a radio out of carlos' large hand and walking off first. captain viktor lets out a chuckle at your childish attitude before glancing at carlos, giving him an expectant look to go with you. carlos looks back at the captain, sighing softly as he leaves the train, tailing you close behind.

light huffs and desperate heaves for air echo in the chilling night, the cold breeze brushing against your bare skin causing goosebumps to form, the streetlamps on the main roads used to light up the area and now they were in ruins with flames to light the path instead. you place your hand over your knees, trying to catch your breath as silently as possible whilst a wave of infected stumbled past.

you grunt softly, clutching the cut in your thigh that had been slashed by an infected, almost immobilising you as it tore through your ligaments but not deep enough to completely neutralize you. "fuck-... can't we just take them on? we both know we can.", you grumble whilst wincing in pain just a bit, carlos turns around to face you, still slightly catching his breath before gently scoffing. "look at the state you're in. can't be loosing my favourite coworker now can i?", he mumbles, dragging his eyes up and down you, eyes landing back onto the wide gash.

"if i'm your favourite coworker, how about you help me out?", you quickly snap back, glaring daggers at him as you lace your voice with disgruntle and sarcasm. the mercenary softly chuckles before turning around and beginning to walk away, you sigh before clicking your tongue in annoyance. you two seemed to never pair well.

"come on, this way.", his gruff voice rings in your ear, you couldn't help but feel the burning agitation growing in your stomach as his very sexy voice ricochets off the walls of the alleyway the two of you were traversing through. you drag your feet towards him, following him from behind.

the walk back to the train station was oddly serene - well aside from the crackling of flames and the groans of infected - the air felt fresh, could you be going insane? possibly.

the mercenary leads you into the train carriage, patting at seat beside him as he pulls out a first aid kit. you glance between the seat and carlos before sighing to yourself and taking a seat, "wow. must be your way of helping me hm?", you sarcastically ask, deadpanning at the handsome man.

he simply laughs it off, pushing the hem of your shorts further up your thigh as he begins to disinfect and clean the wound. "i don't know much about first aid aside from basically training but this will have to do.", carlos softly murmurs, a surprising side of the mercenary. you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter despite the itching disdain you had for him.

you scoff, grabbing onto one of the poles beside the train seats, "fuck you mercenary. you're the bane of my existence.", you grumble, glaring down at the man patching you up. "is that a good thing?", you sigh at his response, simply not bothering to answer the mercenary.

as silence rolls over the two of you, carlos finishes patching your wound up, wrapping it once last time with a thick cloth. you quickly stand back up, getting used to the feeling of cloth against your thigh. in almost a blink of an eye, you feel the wind get knocked out of your lungs as your wrists are suddenly held together with your back against the cold wall.

"what the fuck-?!", you yelp, heart racing as you glare at carlos. "jesus christ! a little warning next time?", you huff, brows knitting together as you frown softly.

carlos smirks, his hands firmly holding your wrists against the train wall as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "sorry, darlin'... couldn't resist the temptation. you've got this fiery spirit that drives me wild.", he chuckles softly, his voice low and husky.

it felt wrong but so right at the same time, you couldn't help but melt into his grasp, all of the agitation from him slow dissipating. he wastes no time, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he presses his body against yours, trapping you against the wall once again. the mercenary's lips crash against yours, a passionate and hungry kiss, his tongue teasingly exploring your mouth as your fingers tangle themselves in his messy hair.

the mercenary slowly pulls away, you slowly catch your breath, panting softly as his hands roam your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin. his fingers trail along your curves, igniting a trail of desire in their wake. "fuck-... do you still want it?", he softly mumbles, his voice much softer as he checks in with you.

you nod, cheeks flushed with heavy breaths. you might not have said much but your eyes told carlos everything, every single filthy fantasy you've had. carlos grins, a glimmer of primal desire in his eyes as he watches your movements. "hold on tight then, 'cause I'm about to give you exactly what you're asking for." with a single swift motion, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he positions himself between your thighs.

carlos' hand snake down to your pants, skillfully undoing the belt buckle with one hand as his lips latch onto the side of your neck. the mercenary pulls down your pants until they rest on your upper thigh, the material pressed up against his visible bulge. he quickly unzips his fly, pulling his cock out, the angry tip gently tapping his abdomen as it leaks beads of precum.

without any further hesitation, he thrusts into you with a forceful intensity, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the empty carriage. the rough friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation combining pain and pleasure in an intoxicating mix. carlos' grip on your hips tightens as he sets a relentless pace, his primal instincts taking over.

he doesn't hold back, each powerful thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the sound of your moans and his grunts fill the air, the raw intensity of the moment consuming both of you. carlos's free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, forcing you to peer into his eyes, "what happened to the bitchy attitude hm?.", he teases, his voice condescending his he ruts his cock into your tight cunt.

his hips slam into yours at a violent pace, the train seats squeaking with each sloppy thrust. the mercenary grunts against your skin, his brows knitting together as a string of moans and groans spill from both of your lips. with your back pressed flush against the cold train walls, his hands rest under your thighs, pushing his nails into your skin as it leaves small crescent markings of him.

your eyes trail down his arm, trying to resist the urge to throw your head back as you cuss him out, watching the way his veins bulge against his tight black shirt, his pants tossed somewhere else as hes lost in a trance. "fuck- fucking bitch... so much attitude but- but now, look at your slutty pussy sucking me in.", carlos groans, fighting back a cocky smirk as his hips rut into you at a feral pace, almost like hes trying to carve himself into your insides.

he releases a hand from your thighs, dragging his thick fingers from your ribcage to your tits, harshly pinching your nipple through your thin shirt as he tries to add a hint of pain to your sexual experience. you grit your teeth, glaring at him past the lustful gaze you have, "i-it fucking hurts-!", you hiss, hands shakily wrapping around his wrist. carlos scoffs, a hint of laughter in his voice as he jerks his hips into yours, his cock digging into your plush g-stop.

your hand instinctively pulls away from his wrist at the pleasure, your body writhing in lust as the man pounding your sopping cunt continues to toy with your sensitive bud, the coil in your tummy tightening. as the pleasure builds, carlos' rhythm becomes more erratic, his thrusts deeper and harder. his lips find yours once again, his kiss claiming and possessive, as if he wants to imprint himself upon you.

he continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more erratic, his own release building. the coil in your stomach suddenly comes undone, your walls clench around him, he groans loudly. the sound mixing with your cries of pleasure with the lewd noises of wet skin slapping. "fucking hell-... what a pussy," he growls, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and satisfaction. carlos' thrusts become more urgent, his own orgasm crashing over him as he spills his seed inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.

carlos softly sighs with relief as his cock spills his warm cum inside of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. as the two of your highs die down, he peers up at you. "are we good now...?", he asks, breathily chuckling. you simply scoffs, pressing a small peck on his cheek, "sure. we're even now.", carlos playfully rolls his eyes.

"the tension needed to be broke... but like this?"

a sudden voice breaks the comfortable quiet environment, both of your heads snap in the direction of the voice. "ugh... get a room for gods sakes..", the brunette grumbles, closing her eyes as she turns on her heels just to leave.

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveria x reader #carlos oliveria smut #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil 3 #re3 remake #re3 smut

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sissa-arrows · 7 months

Note

Hi,

Have you seen this?

Source : Radio France

Another stone in the downward racist and fascist spiral of Macron and his government:

"artists from Niger, Burkina Faso and Mali are no longer welcome on French stages: the Ministry of Culture asks to no longer program in France the artists who come from these three countries

We haven't hit rock bottom until we can still say we've hit rock bottom. That's why I wonder how many african countries Macron will manage to alienate before his announced coup.

It looks like he is very itching (Via Edouard Philippe and Darmanin who run his communication policy and transmit orders to the prefectures) to also break with Algeria and screw up the 68 agreement. He can sit on Algerian gas in this case, he will no longer see a drop of it.

I want Algeria to cut all connections with France and repatriate its nationals, and citizens with dual nationality who wish to abandon France. It’s time to decolonize our minds for good.

I was actually reading about it right before seeing the notification!

Macron is behaving as if the old generation was still controlling the continent in Africa. Except it’s not. The old generation started the process of decolonization when they were young now the youth will finish the process of decolonization.

For Algeria the 1968 accords are not respected by France anyway so they can stop them it won’t change anything.

That being said Algeria won’t and cannot cut all ties with France. The President of Algeria, Tebboune was asked why he doesn’t cut all ties and he basically said « okay what about our children who live in France? What will happen to them if we cut all ties with France? ». We’re basically hostages. Even if 80% of the Algerians living in France (including those with dual citizenship) leave to go to Algeria or even an other country. The 20% who will stay in France will be enough to stop Algeria from cutting all ties.

On top of it it’s harder for the old generation to leave. France now refuses to pay the retirement rent on Algerian bank accounts and if by some miracle they do pay you if you live in Algeria they lower your rent despite the fact that you worked and contributed as much as someone who lives in France. Our chibanis were scammed by French employers and now that they are old they can’t even go back to their homeland with their due they are legit forced to stay in France the majority of the year (used to be 6 months a year now it’s 9…)

There’s also the fact that some kids see themselves as French just as much as they see themselves as Algerians. They were born here they have a French-Algerian culture so it’s fair for them to not want to give up one country. Asking them to do so is kinda unfair. (Personally I consider that I’m not the one who gave up on France, France gave up on me. But it’s easier for me cause I’m 2nd gen only. Both my parents were born and raised (partially for my mom) in Algeria so I was raised more Algerian than French compared to other people my age who are usually 3rd or 4th gen and are therefore more « mixed »)

I’m kinda rambling but all Algeria can do is show us that we are welcome to come live in our country if we want to and honestly they are doing a pretty good job at it already.

#france #algeria #racism #French racism #neocolonialism

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kp777 · 1 year

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By Thom Hartmann

Common Dreams

March 31, 2023

The Republican Party's most dangerous grift today has been their embrace of the lie that America is not a democracy but instead is a theocratic republic that should be ruled exclusively by armed Christian white men. It's leading us straight into the jaws of fascism.

Nobody ever accused Republicans of not knowing how to make a buck or BS-ing somebody into voting for them. Lying to people for economic or political gain is the very definition of a grift.

Whenever there’s another mass- or school-shooting, Republican politicians hustle out fundraising emails about how “Democrats are coming to take your guns!” The result is a measurable and profitable spike in gun sales after every new slaughter of our families and children, followed by a fresh burst of campaign cash to GOP lawmakers.

But the GOP’s ability to exploit any opportunity that comes along — regardless of its impact on America or American citizens — goes way beyond just fundraising hustles.

When Jared Kushner was underwater and nearly bankrupt because he overpaid for 666 Fifth Avenue and needed a billion-dollar bailout to cover his mortgage, his buddies in the Middle East (Saudi Arabia and the UAE) blockaded American ally (and host to the Fifth Fleet) Qatar until that country relented and laundered the money to Jared through a Canadian investment company.

Just this week, after Trump deregulated toxic trains leading to a horrible crash and the contamination of East Palestine, Ohio, Steve Bannon — already charged with multiple fraud-related crimes and then pardoned by Trump — showed up this week to hustle $300+ water filters to the people of that town.

The grift is at the core of the GOP’s existence, and has been since Nixon blew up LBJ’s peace talks with the Vietnamese in 1968 and then took cash bribes from the Milk Lobby and Jimmy Hoffa in the White House while having his mafia-connected “plumbers” wiretap the DNC’s offices at the Watergate.

— Republicans successfully fought the ability of Medicare to negotiate drug prices for decades; in turn, Big Pharma pours millions into their campaign coffers and personal pockets (legalized by 5 Republicans on the Supreme Court).

— Republicans beat back Democratic efforts to stop insurance giants from ripping off seniors and our government with George W. Bush’s Medicare Advantage privatization scam; in turn, the insurance companies rain cash on them like an Indian monsoon.

— Republicans oppose any effort to replace fossil fuels with green energy sources that don’t destroy our environment; in turn, the fossil fuel industry jacked up the price of gasoline into the stratosphere just in time for the 2022 election (and you can expect them to try it again in 2024).

— Republicans stopped enforcement of a century’s worth of anti-trust laws in 1983, wiping out America’s small businesses and turning rural city centers into ghost towns while pushing profits and prices through the ceiling; in turn massive corporate PACs fund ads supporting Republican candidates every election cycle.

— Republicans authored legislation letting billionaires own thousands of newspapers, radio stations, and TV outlets; in turn the vast majority of those papers (now half of all local papers are owned by a handful of rightwing New York hedge funds) and stations all run daily news and editorials attacking Democrats and supporting the GOP.

— Republicans Trump and Pai killed net neutrality so giant tech companies can legally spy on you and me, recording every website we visit and selling that information for billions; in turn, major social media sites amplify rightwing voices while giant search engines stopped spidering progressive news sites.

Newspeak — George Orwell’s term for the grift where politicians use fancy phrases that mean the opposite of what people think they mean — has been the GOP’s go-to strategy for a half-century.

Richard Nixon, for example, promised to crack down on drugs, but instead used that as an excuse to crack down on anti-war liberals and Black people. Instead of an economic grift, it was a political grift.

As Nixon‘s right hand man, John Ehrlichman, told reporter Dan Baum:

“You want to know what this was really all about? The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and Black people. Do you understand what I’m saying? “We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or Black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and Blacks with heroin and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. “We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. “Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.“

The grift is a recurrent theme through Republican presidencies in the modern era.

Ronald Reagan told us if we just destroyed America’s unions and moved our manufacturing to China and Mexico, great job opportunities would fill the nation.

He followed that up by promising if we just cut taxes on the morbidly rich, prosperity would trickle-down to the rest of us.

Reagan even assured us that raising the Social Security retirement age to 67 and taxing Social Security benefits would mean seniors could retire with greater ease.

All, of course, were grifter’s lies. Republican presidents since Reagan have continued the tradition.

George W. Bush called his program to make it easier to clear-cut America’s forests and rip roads through wilderness areas the “Healthy Forests Initiative.”

His program to legalize more pollution from coal-fired power plants and immunize them from community lawsuits (leading to tens of thousands of additional lung- and heart-disease deaths in the years since) was named the “Clean Air Act.”

Bush’s scam to “strengthen” Medicare — “Medicare Advantage” — was a thinly disguised plan to privatize that program that is today draining Medicare’s coffers while making insurance executives richer than Midas.

Donald Trump told Americans he had the coronavirus pandemic under control while he was actually making the situation far worse: America had more deaths per capita from the disease than any other developed country in the world, with The Lancet estimating a half-million Americans died needlessly because of Trump’s grift.

Jared and Ivanka cashed in on their time in the White House to the tune of billions, while Trump squeezed hundreds of millions out of foreign governments, encouraging them to illegally pay him through rentals in his properties around the world.

Other Trump grifts — most leading to grateful industries or billionaires helping him and the GOP out — included:

— Making workplaces less safe — Boosting religious schools at the expense of public schools — Cutting relief for students defrauded by student loan sharks — Shrinking the safety net by cutting $60 billion out of food stamps — Forcing workers to put in overtime without getting paid extra for it — Pouring more pollution from fossil fuels into our fragile atmosphere — Gutting the EPA’s science operation — Rescinding rules that protected workers at federal contract sites — Dialing back car air pollution emissions standards — Reducing legal immigration of skilled workers into the US from “shithole countries” — Blocking regulation of toxic chemicals — Rolling back rules on banks, setting up the crisis of 2023 — Defenestrating rules against racially segregated housing

While Nixon was simply corrupt — a crook, to use his own term — in 1978 when five Republicans on the Supreme Court signed off on the Bellotti decision authored by Lewis Powell himself, giving corporations the legal right to bribe American politicians, the GOP went all in.

Ever since then, the GOP has purely been the party of billionaires and giant corporations, although their most successful political grift has been to throw an occasional bone to racists, gun-nuts, fascists, homophobes, and woman-haters to get votes.

Democrats at that time were largely funded by the unions, so it wasn’t until the 1990s, after Reagan had destroyed about half of America’s union jobs and gutted the unions’ ability to fund campaigns, that the Democratic Party under Bill Clinton was forced to make a big turn toward taking corporate cash.

Since Barack Obama showed how online fundraising could replace corporate cash, however, about half of the nation’s Democratic politicians have aligned with the Progressive Caucus and eschewed corporate money, returning much of the Party to its FDR and Great Society base.

The GOP, in contrast, has never wavered from lapping up corporate money in exchange for tax cuts, deregulation, and corporate socialism.

Their most dangerous grift today, though, has been their embrace of the lie that America is not a democracy but instead is a theocratic republic that should be ruled exclusively by armed Christian white men. It’s leading us straight into the jaws of fascism.

Bannon’s grift in East Palestine is the smallest of the small, after his being busted for a multi-million-dollar fraud in the “Build the Wall” scheme and others, but is still emblematic of the Republican strategy at governance.

When all you have to offer the people is a hustle, then at the very least, Republicans figure, you should be able to make a buck or gain/keep political power while doing it.

#republicans #gop #grift #common dreams

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