#i apologize to my commissioners it might take a few extra days

[throwaway-yandere]

Blind Obedience (Yandere!Ayato/Reader)

unreliable synopsis: ayato tries to ask reader out but fails lol.

afab reader

cw: yandere themes: possessive behavior. drugging & power imbalance. non-consensual touching.

a/n: as always i dont fricking condone this crap it's for entertainment purposes. please seek help if you are in a similar situation in real life

Continuation

--------------------------------------

Your job as one of the Yashiro Commissioner, Kamisato Ayato's, "official" retainers is unnecessarily glamorized by your family. In all honesty, it is far less honorable than what they make it out to be. Then again, that's probably because you haven't come home in a while so there's nothing for them to brag about.

Fetching umbrellas, handing paperwork, managing schedules, delivering lunches– your work is duller than what the ninjas go through. Your job is essentially to be the bodyguard on display beside Lord Kamisato. Occasionally you fight alongside him but that is few and far in between when the man is plenty competent. There were nights when you felt your sword was wasted in serving Ayato. Your blade dulls whenever you open an umbrella for your Lord, but you seem to forget about it the second you see him smile.

Free time is not a finite resource either. You and Thoma joke that you might as well be Ayato's second housekeeper with all the extra domestic work you volunteer. Oftentimes Thoma insinuates that you act less of a retainer and more of the commissioner's spouse, but you just found the notion demeaning and crossed the line. Your relationship is strictly business, and Thoma knows that.

Today is a rare occasion where you perform your duties in public. You stood beside Ayato with a blade at your hip. This time, Thoma was walking behind Ayaka instead of chatting the day away with you.

In all honesty, the scene looked like the Kamisato siblings were just taking their dogs out for a walk.

"Greetings Lord and Lady Kamisato. What brings you to this humble abode? Please accept my apologies. If I heard that you would be my guests this evening I would've been more hospitable. After all, I'm sure you've heard, but I am not bound to a land of my own."

The man tilted his hat up to meet your gaze.

Kaedehara Kazuha: one of the last living remnants of his fallen clan. You've had a chance to meet thrice before, and you found his company quite comforting. Each encounter was memorable. You both ended up talking for hours regarding haikus and other artistic endeavors without a care for the clock. He was like your key to connecting with nature with the way he plays his tunes, and you loved every second of it.

Kazuha doesn't appear to have been moved by time. The only things that changed were his height and the Sandogasa his head had been sporting– a motif that showed his feet had never stayed in one place too long.

It's comforting to know that he stands before you when everything around him and his family vanished into the wind.

His sandals imprinted the sand as he walked toward your group. He closed his eyes, feeling the air.

"Lord Kamisato, you still smell like morning dew. Yet, is this the scent of red ginseng I sense?"

Red ginseng? The anti-oxidant?

Ayato cleared his throat, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. He doesn't appear pleased by that comment.

"There is no need to be modest, Lord Kaedehara." Ayato smiled. "We are here to see how you are fairing after all. I am compelled to feel as though it is my duty to support you whenever we can."

"Hmm, I see," Kazuha smiled, slightly fanning a stray leaf to his face. "But I highly doubt that is the end of it. The wind whispers to me... and I have reasons to believe that you are not here only to seek out answers regarding my well-being, is that right?"

Ayato nodded.

"My apologies. I'm not well-versed in the art of small talk. Shall I head straight to the point?"

"I'd appreciate it, so long as you stop referring to me as a Lord." Kazuha sighed. "I never became one and I don't have plans to."

"Mister Kaedehara, my brother has a few requests he would like to make," Ayaka raised her hand. "It has everything to do with your ancestor's blacksmithing techniques."

"Oh," Kazuha opened his mouth, surprised. "So you're here for Haran? I see."

The wind blew against the yumemiru trees.

"In that case," Kazuha looked at you and smiled. "May I have a word with Lady Kamisato and Miss (Y/n) in exchange?"

Ayato's eyes narrowed.

"Why (Y/n)?"

You stared at Ayato.

"I figured I can gauge how worthy you are through the Shirasagi Himegimi's retainer," Kazuha said. Ayato barely held back a scoff.

"She's mine."

You wish you saw the expression on your lord's face. His voice did not betray any emotion besides conviction.

No one spoke for a while. You saw Thoma from the corner of your eye opening his mouth before shutting it.

"Well, that speaks volumes," Kazuha laughed softly.

"A shame. She would be a better fit to serve Lady Kamisato."

You, Ayaka, and Thoma nearly reacted inappropriately at his boldness. Such a frank stance was not a common attribute of Kazuha's flowery speech. Things are not going favorably. He may be a bit eccentric, but the Kamisato Clan cannot afford to miss this opportunity.

You spoke up. "I would be fine with the arrangement as long as Lord and Lady Kamisato is alright with it."

Ayato raised an eyebrow. "It is not about whether or not you will be fine with it–"

"My brother and I agree with this arrangement as well," Ayaka said. Ayato no longer objected after her intervention. She smiled softly.

"It's a pleasant day for a walk, wouldn't you agree, Mister Kaedehara? There's a pleasant breeze and glorious sunshine. So, where shall we head off?"

------

Ayaka was right when she mentioned that the wind will be pleasant at this time of day. Opting to avoid any of her brother's ears, she chose an area with no walls to eavesdrop from. The beach in Ritou offers crashing waves and distant sounds of unruly children, perfect for background noises.

"Did you truly ask for (Y/n) to know more about my brother?" Ayaka pulled out a fan and covered her lips. Even so, it did not hide a mischievous glint in her eyes. She seems to know more than you, considering how Kazuha flushed red.

"Why does my presence matter so much?" You joked.

Kazuha laughed. "Is it hard to believe?"

"Well, after you told us I'd be better off serving Lady Ayaka," You shrugged. "Sort of."

"It's the truth, though," he said. "I think you'd be better off as Lady Kamisato's retainer, especially with your talents."

Ayaka nodded. Your eyes widened. Lady Kamisato thought you're competent enough to work for her?

"I… Didn't know you felt that way My Lady"

"Work with Lord Kamisato may be as constant as flowing water, but drinking from that stream will be akin to sleep to the freezing, especially in your case, (L/n)," Kazuha added. There is subtle stress in his tone. One you didn't quite understand at the time.

"... I didn't understand a word you just said but it sounded like a lèse-majesté just now."

Kazuha didn't understand that Fontaine term. "Let's just say I have some reservations."

"Towards the Kamisato Clan?" Ayaka asked.

"No," Kazuha said. "I have no qualms with you and your connections, Shirasagi Himegimi."

"Are you seeking redemption for your Clan?"

"Oh, you'd be wrong to assume that," Kazuha smiled softly "I doubt I'd need what my Clan had in store for me even if I did revive it. We were but a subordinate clan to the Kamisatos, after all. Plus, I relish the freedom I have today."

"Then why hesitate?" You asked.

Kazuha answered without missing a beat.

"Because Loyalty does not equate to Blind Obedience."

--------

After that rough start, the conversation went by smoothly when Ayaka boasted about her brother's repertoire. Although both Ayaka and Kazuha did most of the talking, you were more than satisfied. You did your actual job. Not one of a housekeeper. A sense of pride coursed through your body each time passing children looked at your sword in awe. It's childish, but you missed those silly boosts of confidence. Truly makes you feel like you earned your rice and salary.

As it happens, Kazuha didn't ask for your company just to learn more about Ayato alone either. You can't help but smile when recalling your chat with him after Ayaka left.

But it's not the time nor place to be giddy. Quite frankly, it's a bit embarrassing to grin about your private life when your boss walks beside you.

"Escorting my Lady and Mister Kaedehara went by without a hitch," you reported. "It's all just things you've heard before, My Lord. How you are skilled with multiple weapons in your arsenal and the like."

"Then why the smile?"

…

"Pardon me, My Lord?"

"You were smiling non-stop when you came back." He said nonchalantly. "What else were you three talking about?"

"O-Oh. My apologies, Lord Kamisato. In truth, the conversation also got lively and we took turns talking about our experiences with poetry writing."

You cleared your throat, cheeks flushed over the two's previous remarks earlier. "Though, i-it's nothing important."

You're an awful liar.

"Hmm. You seem to have enjoyed being in their company a lot. Do you forget where your loyalties lie?" Ayato teased, but his eyes do not match the playfulness of his tone.

"Of course not my lord. I DID enjoy their company, but my loyalties lie forever with the Kamisato Clan."

"For someone who claims equal loyalty, you seemed as if you favor Ayaka's presence the most."

"Well," you coughed awkwardly. "She is a very cooperative and an easy person to get along with, My Lord."

In other words, Ayato is the troublesome sibling in your eyes.

Ayato paused. As usual, his expression was unreadable.

In truth, Ayato was seething the moment he saw you return to the area with hands playing with your hair, talking so unreservedly with the Kaedehara vagabond.

He closed his eyes while wearing a plagiarized smile. You had worked for him three months earlier than Thoma, yet your loyalties waver more than his. What had caused it to do so? The dilemma is sending the Kamisato Clan Head's mind into a manic frenzy.

Kazuha's comment stuck with him. Ayato admits, with your resume you are far more useful to his sister than himself. His sister is surely aware of that. Your eye for aesthetics and crafts could serve to help Ayaka's workload.

But he needs you more than Ayaka needs you. It's selfish, but if his sister were to come to his room tonight to negotiate, he would drown her voice out with the paperwork. Ayato adores his sister, and she's likely the only person who can convince him to stop.

Was he not enough? What happened and why is your smile more downright mesmerizing than before? It makes him want to pull his hair right out of his scalp. What did Ayaka and Kaedehara Kazuha discuss with you to get you to blush as red as a maple leaf?

You hadn't uttered a single word– why are you staring at him with visible confusion?

His chest ached. Had he been a lesser man, he knew that his hands would've been on her shoulders, screaming to rile up an answer from you.

Ayato sighed exasperatedly. He can't do that. No matter how high he rises into power, the oath he shared with his father weighs more than these unsavory emotions. Besides, he believed he is far more tasteful than the feral beast he imagined himself to be. Be that as it may, just because he is an elegant man does not mean he is free from these feral fantasies. He does admit that the thought of intimidating you into submitting to him, and him alone, was incredibly tempting. Especially when he is painfully aware that you are both alone with not one of his ninjas and or servants, save for yourself, in the vicinity.

------

"What do you live for, (L/n)?"

A sword slithered under your jaw, still and calculated as it slowly poked upwards and drew blood. However, you did not falter. You remind yourself that your Lord gets a kick out of seeing people squirm. You gazed up to your lord's eyes and gave a small untroubled smile.

"I live to serve, my Lord." 

"And who is it that you serve?"

"The Kamisato Clan," you said. "And the Kamisato Clan alone."

"Good," he sheathed his sword back and ruffled your hair. Ayato looked relieved. "Good girl."

You didn't say a word. You continued to kneel. It wasn't until the next morning when you finally stood up under Lady Kamisato's orders.

You're a dog, yes. But you are the Kamisato Clan's dog.

-------

Now that he recalled who (L/n) (Y/n) truly belongs, the box weighed like jade steel in his pocket.

"Must I truly share you with my sister?" He muttered. "With the rest of the clan?"

You did not hear the words he mumbled behind his sleeves. Even if you had, you doubt you would've understood the connotations behind his pained musings.

"I'm sorry My Lord, may I ask for you to repeat that?"

"Think nothing of it," Ayato said. "It's just a throwaway comment. (Y/n), let us move. We have far more pressing matters to attend to."

You flipped the next page of his schedule. Ayato couldn't help but smile when he saw your face scrunched over reading it. "The pressing matters of your... Tea time with (Y/n), My Lord?– Wait hol'up, I thought I had the evening off?"

Ayato cracked up a smile. He always found it endearing whenever you break out of your retainer persona.

"Yes, well, now that you have your evening off," Ayato reached his hand out. "Would you like to have tea with me, (Y/n)? Of course, I'm inviting you as Ayato, and not the commissioner so take it easy. I bought only the finest and most creative snacks."

He did not miss how your positive expression was deterred by the word "creative". This was Kamisato Ayato, after all. It is part of his perverse desires to awe at the sight of his opponents and most beloved ones squirm at his little schemes.

"A-Actually, My Lord." You coughed behind your fist, "My sincerest apologies, but I must decline. I have an... event to attend to."

"Oh."

Something inside his head cracked.

Another alarming sign. Just a few hours after mentioning that you prefer his sister's company over his, you added more salt to his wound by prioritizing someone else over him? After he planned for this date weeks prior with his packed schedule? Of course– you wouldn't be aware that this was a date all along, he can't be bothered to scare you of what this event officially was in his head, but it burned as much as hearing you reject his (unspoken) confession.

And here he thought the only thing left getting in the way was his sister. Laughable.

"If I may ask, what could you be possibly doing at these late hours, my beloved?"

You scoffed.

Was it that hard to believe that you have plans for the evening?

Well, yes, it was.

"My beloved?" You copied incredulously.

Ayato opened his mouth to digress, but you seemed to shrug it off easily. Too easily.

If he found it difficult to believe you were busy, you found it just as difficult to think he was ever genuine with his affections towards you.

"I don't know what's gotten into you today, Ayato." You said. "But if you MUST know, someone asked me out. On a real date."

He can tell. Kamisato Ayato is not an idiot. He just chose to ignore the signs. But it hurts to hear you say it so unashamedly proud.

"With who?"

"Well, aren't you unusually nosy today?" You laughed.

"It is not worthy of your concern, My Lord– Come to think of it... I heard Madarame isn't busy right now, and last time we talked, he said he hadn't tasted Tomoki's creative cooking before!" You beamed. "Of course, he made me promise not to tell our Lord Kamisato Ayato that, and won't you look at that, I'm talking to myself again! Oh dear, I should stop before SOMEONE hears me. I don't want to break a promise, after all!~"

Had it been any other day, he would've gladly taken this innocent bait.

His gaze softened.

"Hmm. Yes. Very noble of you, (Y/n). I sure hope nobody important heard a word of what you just said." He answered playfully.

"Hmm hmm!" You nodded along. "It would be a real shame if something unfortunate happened to our dear Representative after all!"

"Yes– Since we do not wish for anything bad to happen to our dear Madarame," Ayato placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was light, but it weighed heavy on your shoulder.

You know him so well. He smirked.

But not enough.

"Tell me, (Y/n), will you not 'take one for the team' and accompany your eccentric Lord Kamisato Ayato this evening instead?"

"A-Ayato..." You gritted your teeth while smiling widely. He too had a fake smile on his face as he awaited your response. "It would be rude to keep my date waiting."

"I'll send Hisashi to tell whoever your obviously-non-existent date is that you can't afford to come then," Ayato said. You stiffened. "Do not lie to me. We both know you use my workload as an excuse to avoid family gatherings."

"Well. Damn." You laughed humourlessly. "Is that why Hisashi isn't with us? Did you send him off to track my date down?"

As it happens, that mind of yours is a double-edged sword.

You looked over his shoulder. Normally, Hisashi would make his presence known to you by waving slightly. Your smile fell. Thankfully he is not on duty that evening, which leads you to assume something disappointing. It was a bluff, but you didn't know that. Instead, you thought Ayato sent him to stalk your date moments prior. This is funny for someone who accused you of dating a fictional person.

"So, I was right," You muttered. "My Lord– Do you not trust me?"

Ayato's fingers slowly wrapped themselves around your shoulders.

"More precisely, I don't trust whoever this date of yours is," he said. "After all, we are not free from the Fatui's watchful eyes."

"It's just Kazuha."

He paused.

"Just... Kazuha?"

Since when were you two on a first-name basis?

Not knowing how to register his tone, you nodded with a "comforting" smile. "Yes. He asked me to accompany him to Inazuma City today. Is there a problem with that, My Lord?"

Ayato bit his cheek. It appears that an unwanted guest has been sniffing around his possessions. To have the audacity to proclaim he smelled like ginseng and to steal (Y/n) twice this evening, he's surely trying to challenge the commissioner.

"Cancel it."

"Excuse me?"

"Cancel your plans."

"My Lord I–"

"I cleared my entire schedule for your birthday and when you were ill to personally tend to your fever last month, did I not?"

Ayato deadpanned, causing you to shiver. There was a clear-cut venom laced in his voice that you were rarely subjected to. The way he said it made it seem like you owe him your affections, and partly that would be correct. Despite his offer of spending the evening with you as Ayato, your friend, the way he speaks now is reminiscent of Kamisato Ayato, the head of the Shuumatsuban Operations. This is his way of keeping you on your toes by calling you a spoiled brat without explicit mention.

Who are you to question your master's wishes?

"This is the least you could do for me in return."

You didn't dare look at his eyes.

"... Of course, My Lord."

------------

As expected, your Lord's fingertips whisked you away to Komore Teahouse.

Beforehand, Ayato walked alongside you as you sheepishly informed Kazuha of your cancelation. He didn't look disappointed nor angry. Instead, the wandering samurai's expression resembled more of fear and pity.

Kazuha wanted to say more, but Ayato was quick to steer you away. He ordered you to wait at the teahouse with specific orders of not peeking inside the hot pots until he came back. Ayato mentioned something about Kazuha's friend in Tenshukaku but you didn't get the rest of the details before Ayato shooed you away. You begrudgingly agreed and left.

"Ah, welcome back Lord K– Ayato."

He didn't reply.

Ayato immediately sat down. Not in front of you, but beside you. He opened the pots and placed the lids elsewhere. The commissioner started pouring two cups of red liquid by your side, being uncannily quiet as he does so.

"... Ayato?"

"Why did you accept?"

"Accept what?"

"Kaehara's offer." Ayato refused to face you. He slipped the first cup closer to you and you reluctantly grabbed it.

"He's a good honest man." You blatantly told him.

"And I'm not?!"

You both went silent after that outburst. You couldn't quite tell if he was joking since it was so out of character. It was very unusual that you nearly chuckled, but refrained once you saw his look of defeat.

That was real.

"Why... What?–..." Ayato laughed cheaply. Of course, he's far from an honest man. He had been branded the dirty name of a politician a long time ago.

You didn't know what to make of his behavior. Lord Kamisato is a bit strange– his oftentimes possessive actions came from a place of healthy skepticism. His work is deprived of loyalty and attachment, so you provided nothing else but that.

The Kamisato Clan still holds the leash to your collar.

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, Ayato?"

"Would you–..." He sighed. "Do you prefer working with my sister over me?"

"No."

It's a shame that you're an awful liar.

You grabbed the cup he prepared for you before his hand ghosted above it.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course my Lord."

He lets go.

You took a sip. The drink was surprisingly a bit mellow. Bitter, yes, but there must've been loads of sugar to compensate. Still, it was strange. Is this ginseng?

You waited for Ayato for quite a long time. You were sure this drink will be lukewarm at best.

Why does it feel so warm?

"If you want to prove your loyalties," Ayato circled his cup. The red drink swirled as he stared directly at its vortex.

"Why aren't you obeying me?"

"M-my... L-lord..."

Drops of water fell down your thighs. Did you push off your cup? You can't tell. Something's flowing from your mouth.

It's your saliva.

Have you ever drooled this much before? Why are you drooling?

Heavy. Your head is heavy.

Ayato sits before you like a blob or hydro slime– you barely make out what words he spoke. Everything is warm. Something pressed your cheek and neck. Like a warm blanket covering your form.

Ayato stood up and slowly walked past you. You tried grabbing his ghostly sleeves but your dwindling strength failed you. Whatever you drank stripped most of your voice away, no matter how loud you cried, no coherent sentence came out.

You thought he had left you to wallow in your own self-pity until you felt ice on your chest.

"There..." Ayato whispered above your ear. His voice made you tremble between his arms as he dipped his head down the crook of your neck.

"You look even more breathtaking, my beloved. Do you like the necklace?"

You only figured out what he chained you with by the time you woke up used and filthy. It was a thin rosegold necklace with a hydro vision pendant inspired by his own. And you can't take it off, lest you want your fingers littered with water slices.

"Hel... Aya..."

"Hmm?"

Now that he's this close, you realized just how long his eyelashes are. His voice brushed against your neck. You cringed. Was there a box on top of the table before?

"Ah, I fear I may have overdone just how much ginseng I should add. Not to worry, it wouldn't impair your speech too long. You can tell me how much you appreciate it later."

"Aya..." Your willpower is latching on to the small chance that you'll be able to scream.

"Aya...ka..."

His fingers dug a few centimeters deeper down your throat. You coughed up. Ayato froze.

"Oh, my sincerest apologies." From the tone of his voice, it was far from that. Yet something tells you that he did not mean to squeeze your throat either.

His gloved thumb gently wiped your lips. "I slipped up. Do you want more to drink?"

"Ngh..."

Warm. So warm.

This sickness-- it was all too familiar.

You're almost certain you had this strange fever a month ago.

Ayato's grin did not change, but the revelation darkened your perspective. That was not a loving smile. Something more sinister lurks underneath, and you do not wish to unravel more than what was revealed.

This was not his first attempt to make you his.

You sobbed.

Ayato, you asshole.

"Right," he chuckled. His gloved hands started to slither around your collar and buttons. "You must be feeling too warm, here–"

"Part your lips for me, my beloved. Won't you obey– submit– to your husband this time around, (Y/n)?"

#yandere fanfiction #yandere genshin x reader #yandere ayato #yandere kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin impact #yandere #tag: blind obedience - ayato #ansy-writes

[snowdice]

Rats, Pizza, and Supply Closets (Part of the Cuffed Universe Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Remus/Virgil (a bit more Logan/Remus focus)

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Remus

Summary: Logan is very surprised by the fact that Remus did not come to this pizzeria with the goal to capture him, and now that they’re both here, it turns out their objectives align far more than expected.

AKA: The First Truce

This is a Cuffed Universe fic.

Previous fics in this series:

Tea, Cookies, and Handcuffs

Matboards and Subway Sandwiches

Espionage and Iced Coffee

Popcorn and Podcasts

Extras:

Moving Day

Notes: Non-consensual drug use mentioned, morally grey Logan, cop Remus, being restrained, one theoretical mention of eye injuries, human trafficking mentioned

Look at the boys! They’re getting along! Well.... Remus and Logan are getting along.

One would think, that is, one would think if one had even a single iota of sense in one’s monkey brain, that it would be difficult for a new hire to so quickly gain access to the location that one’s underground drug dealing operation ran out of. Particularly, one would think one would be cautious after having recently refused to pay for services from a cybercriminal.

Luckily for Logan, it seemed Haynes had a few disconnected synapses in his brain, and all it had taken was a fake ID and some forged paperwork to get hired on as a handyman for the business he used for money laundering. In addition to his work dolling out controlled substances, Haynes also owned a local rip off of a Chuck E Cheese called Cheeezeee the Cheese Rat. It was a dirty establishment with questionable food offerings and even more questionable decor.

Many times this week, Logan had found himself distracted by the large mural of a rat made out of cheese who was holding a smaller hunk of cheese as though he planned to eat it. Logan couldn’t help but stare at the image in horror, his mind desperately searching for some meaning in the piece. Was it meant to be a visual representation of pantheism wherein all things no matter the way humanity views them are ultimately the same and are god? That god is the creator, consumer, and consumed and god is reality itself. Was is a commentary on thoughtless, damaging consumption whereupon in one’s hunger and lust one eventually consumes themselves thereby destroying the vessel which one seeks to feed? Was the commissioner just deranged?

“Dude, for the 50th time, it is just a mural of a dumb character for kids,” the woman standing at the counter in the middle of the kitchen said as she sprinkled what could maybe pass for cheese on slabs of glorified cardboard the establishment called pizza crust. “I don’t know what to tell you. Just stop thinking about it and fix the sink.”

Logan tore his eyes away from the monstrosity he’d been staring at through the kitchen food window for the past minute and turned his attention back to the tool kit he’d been provided. He selected the correct tool and climbed back under the sink. He listened to the sounds of the woman continuing to make the “pizza.” Honestly, even if Logan did not know they were selling drugs out of the back, he still may have reported them to the authorities based solely on their food handling practices. In fact, perhaps the food was a worse offence considering that those buying their drugs knew they were purchasing and consuming harmful substances.

The underside of the sink he was under was disgusting, but the work wasn’t difficult. He’d learned enough about being generally handy from his father when he was young, and he had brushed up on those skills in the first apartment he’d shared with Virgil as that landlord did not care enough to fix things in a timely manner.

He still had his head under the sink when he heard footsteps enter the kitchen. He recognized Haynes’ voice as soon as the man spoke. He was explaining a few things about how his operation ran to whoever else was there. He used vague terms, but it was still a rather risky move with Logan and the “chef” in the same room, though it was quite possible she was in on the drug selling as well.

Logan finished fixing the sink without paying the conversation much mind; he already knew why he was here, and it was not to glean information. Logan intended to swipe what the man owed him as well as a steep amount of interest for his trouble. Then, he planned to send all of the information he had acquired about the business to the local law enforcement and let them deal with the rest.

He slid out from under the sink and glanced up. Immediately, he met the eyes of one of the room’s occupants and froze. He and Officer Remus Royal stared at each other for a few long moments before Remus tore his gaze away and looked back at Haynes. Logan breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t stupid enough to attempt to confront Logan in front of the drug dealer. That would have very likely ended badly for them both.

No longer being directly watched, though he imagined Remus was still tracking his movement from the corner of his eyes, Logan cleaned up his tools slowly and stood. His next task was to change a few lightbulbs behind the stage of the animatronic show, and while things had inevitably just changed, he still planned to at least keep up appearances until he could come up with an escape plan. He left the kitchen and moved towards the supply closet. He stored the toolbox there and his hand hovered over one of the screwdrivers for a moment, but he ultimately decided to leave it be. Remus was an inconvenience, but he couldn’t see himself stabbing the man through the eye socket with a screwdriver. He turned to the box of lightbulbs, wondering if he should take them with him or just completely throw out any pretenses of still intending to complete his handyman duties. That decision was made for him when the closet door suddenly opened.

Logan tensed for a fight, mind analyzing the situation. He didn’t have the element of surprise and Remus was bigger, but it was a smaller space that was more familiar to Logan. For most opponents, he’d want to try to angle them away from anything that could prove a fatal or extremely harmful improvised weapon, but in all the times Remus and he had fought in the past, the man always gentled his touch before it could do any true harm and never applied excessive force. Logan had found himself extending the same courtesy. So, in this case, the strategy would be to try to push him towards more deadly weapons which he would be unwilling to utilize. Of course, Remus still had the advantage as he was nearer to the door and Logan was more pinned into the back of the closet, but there was also a light switch right next to Logan and if he could turn it off…

“What are you doing here?” Remus asked the second the door closed behind him.

Logan hesitated. “You seem surprised. Are you not tracking me?”

His body language seemed to communicate that he didn’t intend to jump at Logan in the immediate future, but Logan still eyed him suspiciously. “Believe it or not,” Remus said. “I do have other jobs to do besides chasing you. I honestly did not expect to find you fixing a sink in a crappy pizzeria.”

“You’re truly not here for me?”

“You sound hurt,” Remus teased. “Apologies, I thought you knew this was an open relationship. I see other criminals all the time. Don’t you see other cops?”

“You’re the only one who’s ever been able to even partially keep up with me.”

“Well, I’ve been told I have quite the stamina,” he said, eyes sparkling.

Logan shifted slightly to the side but stilled again when Remus’s eyes immediately tracked the movement. “Stamina doesn’t provide much advantage when stuck in a closet with your opponent,” Logan said idly.

“Oh, I’d beg to differ,” he said lowly.

“So why are you here?” he asked instead of engaging.

“I’m undercover to help bring down Haynes,” Remus said. “He’s into some even skeevier stuff than his rat-infested restaurant”

“I’m aware,” Logan said. “I was actually planning to send an anonymous tip to local law enforcement when I was finished here, though it seems that will be unnecessary now.”

“You were?” Remus asked. “Why?”

“He owes me money, and besides that, he’s an asshole.”

“Asshole might be an understatement for a human trafficker.”

“A what?” Logan asked.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you know?” he asked, and suddenly the rat themed restaurant for kids took on an even more dark nauseating tone.

“I wouldn’t have done any work for him at all if I’d had even an inkling that he partook in that business as well,” Logan spat. “I’m taking him down even harder now.”

There was a moment of silence where Remus considered him, eyes unreadable and head slightly tilted. “So, we’re both here for the same reason,” he said.

“I guess we are.”

“Huh.”

“If you attempted to arrest me, it would blow your cover,” Logan pointed out and tilted his head, “and it would make my objective more difficult as well. Considering the severity of his crimes, would you be willing to make a temporary alliance just to make sure Haynes gets what he deserves?”

“Are you going to drug me at the end of it?” Remus asked.

“We’ll institute a 20-minute grace period after we’re finished. You don’t attempt to arrest me, and I don’t attempt to incapacitate you after we complete our objective.”

Remus took a moment to think through the offer, and then shoved his hands in his pocket. “Deal.”

“Very well,” Logan said. “So…”

The closet door was opened suddenly by a figure in one of the restaurant’s uniforms. “Wha-?” he started, but Remus reacted quickly, grabbing the person and slamming his hand over his mouth. Logan leaned forward and shut the door once Remus has wrestled him inside.

“Virgil?” Logan asked.

“Oh! Hey Virge,” Remus said in surprise. “You’re working at a pizzeria now?” Virgil tried to respond, but whatever he said was muffled by Remus’s hand. “Oh, right,” Remus said. “I’m going to uncover your mouth, but you have to promise not to scream.”

Virgil nodded vehemently.

“Wait,” Logan said, his eyes narrowed on Virgil. “He’s lying. He’s going to scream.”

Virgil shook his head in denial.

“I know you Virgil,” Logan said. “I can tell when you’re lying.” There was always a crinkle between his eyes because he overcorrected on trying to look earnest.

Virgil made a muffled whining sound in the back of his throat.

“Look,” Remus sighed. “I’ll take my hand off your mouth. Don’t scream, and we’ll talk it out, okay Virgil?”

Virgil nodded again, crinkle still prevalent between his eyes, and Logan pressed his lips together to watch.

Remus slowly removed his hand from Virgil’s mouth. There was a short moment of silence. Then… “AAAAmphpmphmpmphpm.” Logan slapped his own hand over the man’s mouth when he started to yell.

“I told you he was going to scream,” Logan commented idly.

“Mphfmkr,” was the angry reply as he tried to fight against Remus’s hold.

Remus sighed. “I was trying to be nice to you, Virge. Now we have to gag you.”

Virgil’s struggling increased, but Remus was easily able to hold him. Logan and Remus awkwardly managed to exchange their hands, so Logan was able to turn around and search the shelves for something to gag him with.

“Here,” Logan said. “This rope is still packaged so it should be clean.”

Virgil whined it protest.

“Well it’s that or duct tape, Virgil and I don’t relish in the pain that would doubtlessly result from the process of removing it.”

“Fmf. Ff.”

It was a struggle to get the rope between his teeth, but they managed it after a bit of wrestling. “Can I borrow your handcuffs?” Logan asked Remus.

“This time he asks,” Remus snarked, but handed them over.

Virgil made muffled irate noises behind the rope as he was cuffed to the metal shelving unit; Logan imagined whatever the man was trying to say was quite inspired.

“Sorry Virge,” Remus said, patting him on the head. “See you later.”

They shut the closet door behind them, and Logan locked the door with the keys he’d been provided. He handed the keys to Remus. “You’ll let him out after?” he asked.

“Of course,” Remus said. “I’ve got the emo.”

Logan nodded and turned from the closet. “Let’s go get a rat,” he said darkly.

Want to read more? The next installment is:

Kisses and Thai Noodle Leftovers

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #virgil sanders #intruanalogical #adriana writes #cuffed universe #cop remus #morally grey logan #non-consensual drug use #drugs mentioned #being restrained #eye injury mentioned #human trafficking mentioned

[jenovahh]

Comm 02 - NSFW - Opulence

Rating: NC-17, Explicit Tags: Female!Reader, NTR, Cunnilingus, Oral Fixation, Penetration

The commissioner has chosen to remain anonymous, but I appreciate them very much for their patience and understanding!

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‘I’d like to go out sometime…’

You muse bitterly as you stroll down the busy sidewalk of Amaurot, huddling your dress coat as close to your body as possible. While making your own lunch would’ve been the smart thing to do, you’ve chosen instead to indulge today and eat your feelings by heading to your favorite local coffee shop. Sighing, you idly wish you had chosen to wear some slacks instead of the snug pencil skirt you were wearing. At the very least, your coat was good at keeping the top half of you warm.

Your boyfriend had all but swept out the door upon waking to go to work, merely grabbing his toast and coffee and giving you a peck on the cheek. Gone were the days where you would both rise to share eggs and bacon with each other each morning before heading to work, and you couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken about it.

Stepping inside the cafe, the warmth of baked goods and warm coffee wafts into your nose, and immediately your mood lightens. You wonder if you should order the usual; after all the clerks have already spotted you and waved in greeting. As much as you would be up to trying something different, you prefer the comfort of something familiar to soothe the ache in your heart.

Just as you prepare to step into a line, another man makes the same move. You let out a slight squeal as you nearly bump into him, to which that seems to gain his attention. “Oh, excuse me miss. Were you in line?”

The man’s voice is velvety smooth, rich like a fine brandy or a dark chocolate. Looking up, you meet sharp, golden eyes, that seem as if they bore into your very soul. You trace their tired but attractive eyes to fine cheek bones, a strong jawline, burgundy hair with a stark white streak. He seems like your average business man, except no business man you’ve seen looks as good as he does in a three piece suit. It fits him so well you wonder if it’s tailored.

“Ma’am?” He speaks, breaking you out of your daze. You immediately flush red, hands flying to cover your face and promptly dropping your wallet. Your face inflames further as you watch in heavy mortification as he kneels to pick it up. “I am so sorry,”

“No need to apologize miss. I seem to have caught you by surprise.” He purrs, holding out your wallet with an outstretched hand. Your eyes are drawn to the watch on his wrist, noting its simplicity, but the craftsmanship implies that is worth a pretty penny. He must be a very successful businessman. 

“That was my own fault...I was distracted.” You titter nervously, gasping as your fingers brush his own to take your wallet. His touch is electric and you find yourself gazing deep into his eyes again, breath stolen as you meet his calm smile.

“You must be a regular here?” He asks, gently placing the wallet in your hand. 

Once again dragging yourself from your stupor, you clutch your wallet to you, swiping your tongue nervously across your suddenly dry lips. “I-I am. How did you,”

“I saw the clerks here greet you. You must be a familiar face. A beautiful one at that.” The delivery of his compliment is so smooth it takes a minute it to hit you. You feel like a young schoolgirl again before this man, despite him not looking that much older than you. It had been so long since anyone had complimented on your appearance in a way that felt genuine, a long time since your own boyfriend had even--

“Is there anything on the menu you’d suggest?” He asks, gently placing a hand on your back politely to nudge you forward in the queue. His hand is warm through the thick layer of your coat, and you wonder how you’ve not combusted yet with how much attention he’s given you.

“If you like scones, I would suggest those. Their croissants are the perfect amount of buttery and flaky, and I’m personally a fan of their matcha green tea.” The words bumble forth before you can stop yourself, mouth watering at the idea of sinking your teeth into a delicious sandwich. “I’m personally here for lunch…my favorite is the caprese sandwich.” You murmur shyly, noticing he hasn’t taken his hand off your back.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He grins, flashing you stunning white teeth. You find yourself hopelessly enchanted the more you stay in his presence. “This is my first time at this establishment...I’m glad I didn’t have to go in blind, with you at my side.” He grins, giving you a light nudge forward. You try not to think of his eyes on your back as you order your food, quietly moving to the side and flashing him a small smile as you step away to wait.

“Do you work nearby?” He questions as he walks up to you, tossing his receipt into a nearby bin. 

“I, uh…” You stammer, averting your eyes.

“My apologies, that is a bit invasive isn’t it?” He replies, making an obvious move to turn and move away.

“No, wait!” You reach out for him, fingers just barely brushing his sleeve, to which his golden eyes glance at your fingers just barely brushing the finest material you have ever felt. “What I mean is...I do work nearby.” He seems to regard you silently for a moment, as if mulling over something.

“As do I.” He finally speaks, extending his right hand in an invitation to shake it. “Might I have the pleasure of your name?” 

You place your delicate hand in his, preparing to squeeze his firmly just as your mother taught you, only to blush as he brings it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of your hand. You give him your name in a daze, forgetting how to breathe as his breath ghosts across your skin. When he finally makes eye contact once more, his gaze is smouldering.

“I go by Emet-Selch. Perhaps, we shall meet again soon.”

You meet him much sooner than you’d like. At first you don’t see him at every visit to the coffee shop; meeting him maybe once or twice. You strike up light conversation when you do, making small talk about your work at the nearby law firm as a secretary, trying your best to sound as impressive as possible because despite his humility, he is obviously loaded. He makes a point to listen to you more than tell you about himself, and you find yourself slowly opening to an easy friendship with him, even if it means losing a few extra dollars of your paycheck to eat lunch after work everyday.

“I’d like to take you out sometime.” 

The statement catches you so off guard you nearly spill your tea all over yourself, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Your heart leaps at the offer, but your brain is too busy assaulting you with so many red flags that it is a sea of crimson in your mind’s eye.

“I’m sorry, I uh...wow,” You stutter, carefully putting down your tea. “I mean I’d love to, but it’s just…” You hoped turning him down wouldn’t mean that this friendship you had worked on would all go to waste.

“I apologize, I had only asked because you weren’t wearing a ring.” He comments smoothly, saving you the breath of having to say it yourself.

“Yes, I do...have a boyfriend.” You murmur sadly, eyes downcast as you stare hard into your cup. It is silent for a few moments, and you fear the worst. “Please don’t,”

“Don’t worry.” When you meet his eyes, he still wears that smug grin, golden eyes twinkling. “Let it just be as friends.” Reaching into his blazer he pulls out a business card. “Simply give me a call when you wish to go out. It’ll be my treat.”

Gingerly, you take the card from him, its material obviously made of fine stock paper. It really made you wonder what made someone as refined as himself continue to eat in a hole in the wall like this. “Thank you, Emet-Selch...I,” He holds up a hand to stop you, an easy smile on his face. 

“Merely call when you are ready, and I will handle the rest.”

You finger the card in your hands as you are curled up on the couch. It smells like his cologne, and you’re ashamed to say you had given it a strong whiff more than once. Its scent is subtle, but somehow overbearing. ‘He smells amazing.’ You muse, glancing at Emet-Selch, Professional Architect shining on the card in elegant lettering.

The door to your shared apartment opens and your boyfriend walks in, already tugging off his blazer and tie. “Honey, you’re home,” you start but he marches on down the hallway, giving a grunt as a form of greeting. Standing to your feet you follow him into your bedroom, watching as he changes out of his suit. “Are you going somewhere?” you ask, watching as he pulls on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looks rugged; not the refined elegance you had come to admire in Emet-Selch.

“Yeah. The boys want to go and play some ball, so I’m heading out.” Done pulling his shirt over his head, he snags some sneakers out of the closet. 

“But it’s movie night…” You whisper, watching as he swings past you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“I know babe, and I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you!” He calls, giving you a wave as he heads for the door. You stand there completely still as you listen to the door open and close, to the quiet of your apartment.

Walking back to the living room,  you reach for the card you left abandoned on the couch and grab your phone off the coffee table. With watery eyes you punch in the numbers listed on the card and bring your phone to your ear.

“Emet-Selch? Are you free tomorrow?”

He is.

And you have never felt more out of your league.

You’ve styled your hair up, your evenly cut bangs still framing your face but you’ve curled the length of it into a ponytail. You feel slightly self conscious wearing one of your favorite party dresses from your single days, feeling wistful as you unearthed it from the back of your closet. With a little light makeup and your favorite dress coat, you felt ready for a quiet dinner at perhaps a nearby restaurant. 

What you did not expect was Emet-Selch to pull up in a very expensive car. 

He looks no different than he does any other day you see him, though this time his three piece suit is a quiet navy blue. He steps from the car and walks to the other side, taking your hand in his once again to press a kiss to it. “You look stunning.” He breathes, his eyes sparkling like jewels in the moonlight. Ever the gentleman, he opens his car door and lets you step inside, the plush leather seats already warm.

He makes simple conversation that distracts you for a moment as he drives you to your destination, clear across town into very high profile neighborhoods. When you arrive at the restaurant he once again helps you out the car, politely dropping they keys off in the valet’s waiting hands. Offering you his elbow you feel every bit the lady, looping your arm through his with a small smile on your face.

You try not to feel so terribly out of place as you step in, recognizing this as a restaurant where even some of the highest paid businessmen had to have reservations weeks in advance. With gentle hands he leads you to a secluded table, taking your coat and pulling out your chair to sit down in. A sommelier and waiter swoop by almost immediately listing off wines in some foreign language and you sit there dumbfounded as he repeats the wines back with perfect intonation. You vaguely remember being asked what you were in the mood for, somewhat recall mentioning meat, and distantly recollect Emet-Selch ordering lamb for you, the sommelier and waiter take their leave, finally leaving you and Emet-Selch alone.

You’re thankful that Emet-Selch once again takes the lead with the conversation, for you are still too stunned at the luxury he is giving you. The food and wine comes and he’s helpful about proper dining etiquette, sounding not at all patronizing as he tells you which fork is for what use. You’re having a pleasant time and you know its not solely the work of the wine. When the dessert has been eaten and your glass emptied, you find yourself sorely wishing you didn’t have to go home.

Standing, Emet-Selch comes to pull out your chair and help you back into your coat, his cologne wafting into your nose at his closeness. He looks so handsome up close, your eyes following the sharp angle of his jawline as he towers above you. With a hand on the small of your back he nods to the waiter and escorts you out of the establishment where the valet is already waiting with his car.

“I hope you’ve had a wonderful evening, my dear.” He purrs, taking his keys from the valet and handing him a hefty tip in return. He gently helps you back into his car, his stride elegant as he circles the vehicle to get in on the driver’s side. 

“I’ve...had a wonderful time Emet.” You whisper, staring into his glittering gold eyes. “I wish the night didn’t have to end so soon.” The words are out before you can take them back, his eyes twins flames as a result. You are no fool and can see the pure desire there. 

“It doesn’t have to.” With that one statement he puts the ball in your court, the weight of your choice the remaining barrier between you. “I do not wish to overwhelm you; I meant what I said by offering to take you out as mere companions. However, if you wish to go home,”

“I would like to spend more time with you.” You blurt out, unsure if he’s trying to talk himself out of it, or talk you into it. “What I mean is...I would like to know more about you.” He gives you a confident smile, leans back into the driver’s seat as he puts the car in gear and pulls away from the curb.

You shouldn’t have gotten in his car. You shouldn’t have offered yourself, knowing full well how these things go.

You should’ve asked him to take you home, to tell him it was a nice dinner and let’s never do this again.

You did none of those things.

Instead, you allowed him to drive to his penthouse apartment, to park his car in a sectioned garage of several more that were surely his own. Allowed him to lead you into his home, and realize just what kind of man you were dealing with. You allowed him to show you around his home, to stare at you so hungrily that you should have been offended. 

“Are you nervous?” He asks, his eyes half lidded. He is not ashamed of his appraisal of your body, of admiring your curves so poorly hidden beneath your dress. You stand in his opulent dining room, you wonder if it’s seen any use. “You seem...on edge.”

You meet his eyes, your breath loud in the silence of his home. “I am...I shouldn’t be here.” Your voice is quiet and you very much feel like a mouse caught before the eyes of a hawk, its golden eyes piercing through to you, knowing it is ready to strike.

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Tell me, why is that?” He questions, pacing around the dinner table like a lion who has cornered its prey.

“I...I’m not a fool. Y-You want me.” You hiss, trying to find it in yourself to be angry. You glare angrily at the floor, finding the only person you can be furious at, is yourself.

“So I do. Though it would seem by your presence here, the feeling is mutual.” Your eyes snap up to meet his, finding him suddenly closer than he was at first. His scent wafts into your nose, the warmth of him just barely tickling your senses. “I meant what I said. That we could go out like friends…” He steps closer and you gasp as you back into the table, your heels slipping on the tiled floor but with quick reflexes he steadies you with a hand at your waist. “You could come home with me like friends��” He continues, pressing further against you. You’re getting lightheaded as you eyes dart from his eyes to his lips, looking soft and oh so kissable. A strong hand comes to tilt your chin up to face him, giving you nowhere to look but him.

“And we could even sleep together, as friends do.” His thumb gently rubs your bottom lip, and without any prompting you take it into your mouth, wrapping your tongue around the digit. Your eyes flutter closed, unwilling to face your own depravity. Your guilt must be palpable, for his next words send shivers down your spine. “I know that you are a good girl.” He whispers, bringing you close against him where you can feel his arousal. “Perhaps, you can be a good girl for me.” 

Your eyes slowly open as he pulls his thumb from your mouth, finding him hovering before your face before his lips press to yours. He is not at all patient in demanding entrance into your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip to open your mouth for him, kissing you passionately as he presses himself further into you. His hands trail down your sides to the hem of your dress where it stops mid thigh, fingers tickling, teasing as they grip tightly and hike your dress up. With surprising strength he lifts you onto the table, paying no mind to the cutlery or centerpieces as they tumble and crash to the floor.

He is aggressive as he spreads your legs for him, settling himself between them as his hands push your dress past your thighs to settle at your hips. You feel him pull back as he encounters the lacy material of your underwear, your face tinting red as he tugs it with a finger and releases it to snap against your skin. “Wearing such lacy things like this, I have to wonder if you came here with intentions.” Emet-Selch purrs, tracing the fine material to your front, teasing the skin of your inner thigh.

You refuse to say anything, choosing instead to watch his hand with bated breath as he slowly drags his fingers higher to press at the junction of your thighs, drifting across your obvious arousal for him. “Look at you...so wet. So eager.” He murmurs like a caress, only lightly dragging his fingers across your slit. 

“D-Don’t tease me…” you whine, trying to press your hips forward onto his hand. Your fingers grip tightly onto the fine material of his blazer, distantly worrying if it’s all right you wrinkle such a fine suit, but he seems to not mind for how insistently he is touching you. 

“I would never.” He breathes, reaching to lock your lips with his own. His kiss is intoxicating, your arms moving to link around his neck and bring him close against you, his chest brushing against your own. Soon enough does he slide your panties to the side, fingers finally brushing to part your lower lips to find the pink bud lurking beneath. You moan into his mouth when he finds it, legs wrapping around his hips instinctively as you use him to anchor you through the pleasure that courses through your body.

“Someone is sensitive, I see.” He croons, giving another delicate stroke of your clit that makes you moan with abandon into his shoulder, body shaking as you try to clutch him tighter. Was it supposed to feel this good? “Or perhaps, you have not truly been taken care of.” He muses, your heart stopping as he hits the mark. You meet his half lidded eyes, see the smugness lingering on the surface with the lust and desire. “H-How did you,”

“An educated guess.” He replies, giving another fervent press to your clit and you whimper, ashamed of how your hips try to leap into his touch, his fingers stroking and rubbing until he finds what you like, finds what as you moaning like wanton in his hands. Your head is in the clouds, slowly losing touch with reality as he drives your pleasure higher and higher. “If we are going to do this love, I prefer you call me by my name.” Come his words through the haze of lust, sounding as if he is lightyears away. 

“Emet-Selch isn’t your name?” You ask between pants, meeting those golden pools he calls eyes. Your lips are surely plump from his kisses and bites, the skirt of your dress hiked up around your hips and your sure his free hand is moving to push the straps from your shoulders to expose more of you to him. 

“It is more a title, strange as that sounds, I’m sure. My name is Hades.” His voice is low and seductive, and you find that his name suits him. 

“Why tell me this now?” You ask, whimpering as he pushes your panties even further to the side, eyes widening as he slowly kneels on the floor. A hand grips your hip and pulls you toward him to the edge of the table, his eyes devious as he looks up at you from his place below. 

“Because, my love, it is only polite to cry out the name of the one who pleases you.” 

You can’t formulate a reply fast enough as his lips press to  your clit, your hands practically flying to to bury themselves in his hair, his own hands keeping your thighs apart as they instinctively try to clench together. Your boyfriend had never given you oral, or rather good oral, and in just mere moments had Emet-Selch, Hades, out classed him entirely. His tongue swirled around your center, reaching inside you, and surely enough did you cry out his name in abandon as the fire in your belly blaze out of control.

Your cries are loud as they echo off the spacious walls of his apartment alongside the lewd sounds him lapping up your juices. Each press of his tongue to your clit pushes the guilt and doubt further away in your mind, focusing only on the mind-blowing pleasure the man currently between your legs has to offer you. Your hands fist in his hair careful not to tug too hard, your body hardly able to deal with how good you feel. Such pleasure shouldn’t be possible, but Hades seems determined to prove you wrong.

With mischievous eyes does he slip a finger inside your opening, pulling a long moan from you, your eyes shut tight as your pleasure spikes. He picks an easy pace as he thrusts his finger in your tight hole, ignoring your pleas to stop as you try to pull away from him. It’s so much, too much, you feel ready to burst but he won’t let you run, going as far as slipping a second finger inside, spreading you open for him. “I-I can’t,” you whimper. Clearly to Emet-Selch it does not matter, for he gives a hard suck on your pink bud and curls his fingers just so that has you falling apart on him, coming with an orgasm so intense you had never even thought it possible.

Your breath is stolen from you as you ride your high, his tongue giving a final few flicks as the waves of bliss finally see fit to release you, your body flushed with sweat. You release his hair as he moves to stand, slowly kissing up your body as he slowly peels your dress off of you, baring your creamy skin before his gaze. Tossing your dress aside, he moves to finally divest himself of his blazer, dropping it to the floor carelessly as his hands move to undo his cuff links, gently placing them on the table. You watch enraptured as he undresses, unashamed at how you stare at his pale, muscled skin as it reveals itself to you. He is by no means bulky, but neither is he lanky by how he lifted you with ease earlier. Your hands reach for him on their own, bringing him in for a kiss which seems to surprise him, but he quickly returns it, his hands fumbling with his belt in a sudden rush to get his pants off. Your hands reach behind your back to undo your bra, tossing it to the side all while continuing the kiss, moaning into his mouth as his hands move to cup your breasts in his hands.

The kiss grows feverish, as if the two of you cannot touch enough of each other, or quickly enough. Patience seems to fly out the window, neither of you worried about getting him out of his slacks, shoving them down far enough to free his length so that you may stroke it gently in your hands as his lips trail down your jawline to nip and bite at your neck, unsatisfied until the only sounds from your lips are his name or your cries of pleasure. His own grunts and moans from your attention on his cock send heat pooling into your legs once again, making you distantly wonder if your slick is staining his lovely dining room table. He gives you no time to ponder it though, pushing your hands off him to rub himself along your folds, letting your fluids cover his length instead, teasing you with the heat of his cock.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t tease,” you beg, trying to arch your hips to take him inside. You need him so badly, you worry you might fall apart if he doesn’t touch you or even if he did. A single hand comes to cradle your face gently, bidding you to look into his eyes. There is an adoration mixed within the lust, stealing your breath away just as he presses the head past your lips, slowly sliding himself into your wet sheathe. “My love, whoever could deny you?”

You feel so incredibly full, joined with him so intimately. He lets you adjust to his girth, chuckling when you wiggle your hips impatiently. “You feel amazing, my dear.” He praises, moving to stroke your hair as he pulls out to the tip, slowly plunging back inside. He repeats the slow pace, letting you feel the length of him as he drives himself inside you, his attention never leaving your face. The way he looks at you makes you feel as if you are the most beautiful thing he has laid eyes on, despite the opulence he had surrounded himself with. His thumb slides past your lips once more and you suck on it eagerly, or rather to the best of your ability as he finally picks a pace.

If he is bothered by your inability to continue your attentions on his thumb he doesn’t show it, clearly more pleased with his name falling from your lips with each thrust as he fills every crevice your body has to offer. His thrusts increase in pace, the sound of skin against skin becoming the only thing you can hear past your own moan and his quiet breaths. Taking a look at him you wonder what you must look like; the very picture of debauchery you were sure. You prayed that this wouldn’t be a small fling, unsure if you could ever go through life knowing just how good you could feel.

“Stay with me.”

You’re suddenly alert at those words, his hips not stopping their thrusting as he stares you down. His face is a bit more serious now, but still maintains that confident, superior air, as if he knows you won’t turn down whatever request he is about to make.

As if you will bow to his every whim.

“I can’t,” you whimper, whining as he slows down his thrusts.

“You want this. Want me. Why deny yourself?” He presses on, giving a single, hard thrust, pressing you down to lay you flat on the table, more cutlery crashing to the floor. “You don’t have to leave your boyfriend if that is what you fear.” His voice is hypnotic, somehow adding to the pleasure itself as he begins to fuck you. “Just know that I will see to your every need. Your every desire.” He rasps, a groan torn from his lips as his hands snap  to your hips to bring you down harder on his cock. Each stroke threatens to tear at your sanity, what little of it you feel you have left his hand reaches between your leg to rub on your clit and force an unexpected orgasm from you, your body clutching him tightly and shuddering around him but he doesn’t stop, only continues to thrust into your wet heat to the point of overstimulation.

“Hades…” you whine, breath coming fast as he lets you pull him close, chest to chest as your hands tangle themselves in his hair. His hips fuck at a brutal pace, fully giving over to his own pleasure and you fight to keep your focus on him, wanting to watch this beautiful, composed man fall apart inside you. You clutch his face between your hands, his eyes glazed over with desire as you sense he is nearing his end. “Come inside me.” You whisper, and it’s those very words that push him over the edge, Emet-Selch groaning your name softly as he releases deep inside you. His body shudders above your own as he holds you tight as his orgasm takes him under, his lips smashing into yours in a fierce kiss as you feel his cum reach deep inside. You whimper into his mouth as one of his hands finds your clit, rubbing insistently until you must part from the kiss to make room for his name as he brings you to orgasm once again.

The two of you catch your breath, chest’s heaving as you lie in the afterglow. His hands gently caress your body, running across your skin, feeling its softness, his lips pressing kisses as light as a butterfly’s wingbeats. Closing your eyes, you give yourself over to him, sighing in contentment.

“Babe?”

Your eyes flutter open, finding the confused face of your boyfriend staring back at you. You turn to him slightly, letting him know you’re listening. 

“You going out?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe to your bathroom. Reaching for your lipstick, you apply it with grace, placing the tube back on the counter. “I am.” You answer simply, moving past him to head for your closet. Grabbing your heels, you move to sit on the bed to put them on. 

“Where to?” He asks, moving to stand nearby. Your hair is once again up in a ponytail, though it need not be. It’s just going to come down anyway.

Hades does love unwrapping his gifts.

“Company dinner.” You lie, pushing away his hand as you finally get your last heel on, grabbing your clutch off the bed. Pulling out your phone you check your messages, practically beaming at your phone. “I know you said you were heading out yourself. I’ve got a ride, so don’t worry about me.” Giving him a peck on the cheek, you give him a quick smile before strolling down the hallway, giggling at his dumbfounded look. “Catch you later!”

Stepping outside, you hurry down the stairs as best you can, making a mad dash for the luxury car outside. “I thought I asked you to not pick me up!” You hiss, quickly opening the passenger door and slipping inside. 

“But where’s the fun in that, my love?” Emet-Selch whispers, breath husky as he brings you to him for a kiss. “I would not be opposed from skipping dinner and going straight to dessert.” He teases and you shudder, looking at hunger in his eyes. Giving one last bite to your bottom lip he parts from you, putting the car in gear to slowly pull out from the parking lot. You give one look back at your apartment, before your attention is stolen by Emet-Selch who twines his fingers with yours.

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[ask-de-writer]

DARING DO and THE GRYPHON’S QUEST! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 15 of 19

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DARING DO

and

THE GRYPHON’S QUEST!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

and

Carmen Pondiego

Cover art by Aranel the Cyborg, now  Wind the Mama Cat

29584 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 03/29/16

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

This is a Fan Fiction based on My Little Pony.  Canterlot, Princess Luna and the name Daring Do are owned by Hasboro Inc.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge.  I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.  

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Chapter 15. Journey to the Gryphon Empire

The screen of Eagles overhead made certain that there was no further aerial assault.  There were no other adventures beyond seeing the changeling’s continuous wonder and delight at the mundane seeming world that they passed through.  

That did not stop her from needing fires four times a day to draw warmth from.  Warmth that she then shared out to her precious eggs.  Her dedication to turning them and keeping them safe was past impressive.

At the Circle Lake Resort rail terminus Grata laid out her ID as the Left Wing of the Imperial Throne and her Letters of Cooperation from Princess Luna and Princess Celestia.

“Good Station Master, we require a safe place to keep our cart untouched except by members of our party until you can obtain a car that will meet our transport needs.”

The pony looked up at Grata.  From behind his ticketing window grating he asked, “What is so special about your car needs?”

Grata, crest set dead serious, replied, “We need a single baggage/passenger car with a galley suitable for both Gryphon and pony diets.  There must be a communicating door between the passenger and baggage parts.”

The Station Master pony scratched behind his orange ear as he thought. “There are precious few such cars as you require.  I can do a Magic Net check to see how soon I can get one here.  The check might take an hour or two.”

An arrogant Gryphon voice interrupted, “It is of no importance!  This Blasphemous Venture Ends HERE!  They did not go to the so called Sunlord Temple at all!

“I, Krayard, High Priest of the Twin Flames of Creation, shall personally destroy anything in that cart that I deem blasphemous!  That changeling must be slaughtered!  As for those eggs, I will make an omelet of …”

Three power diving Eagles interrupted his oration by slamming him to the station platform!  Their extended talons drew blood.  As he tried frantically to flutter back to his feet, two more diving Eagles smashed talon first into his wings, pinning his spread out pinions!  Another Eagle struck Krayard in his center back, between the wings!  

Added to the crunch of clawed claws smashing into him, there was the cracking of bone!  Krayard’s hindquarters suddenly spasmed wildly and went limp!

Shocked beyond measure, he cried out, “Make them stop!  Why are they attacking me?”

Rahak replied, crest set to show mild interest, “How can we?  They are not tame creatures doing some trick.  You threatened both their mother and their young that she is tending.”

“Mother!  How is that monster of blasphemy any sort of mother to anything?”

The Eagles had paused their attack, except that the one on Krayard’s neck struck suddenly!  He lifted his head, beak dripping the gore of the priest’s right eye.  Striking yet again, he blinded the Gryphon under his talons.

Grata filled in, “How stupid are you, Krayard? The first living being that a chick sees becomes mother to it.  This changeling was the sole survivor of her hive.  We do not know where the hive was, or how long she has been raising Eagles but these are all following their mother.

“Defending Nest and Young is NEVER murder and that is what they are doing!  I see no reason to interfere.” Grata turned her back on the carnage that followed as the Eagles began to strip the flesh from his carcass.

Speaking to the appalled Station Master, Grata said cheerfully, “My apologies for the mess.  I will pay extra for cleaning the platform.”

Tearing his eyes from the ghastly sight of the Gryphon’s now still carcass being stripped by a horde of Eagles who were feeding cooperatively, the Station Master swallowed hard and replied, “Thanks, ma'am.  Was not looking forward to getting that job done.  About that car, let me get started on finding it for you.”

He busied himself with a magic net mirror.  He applied Princess Luna’s note of cooperation, which caused the Royal Seal of the High Commissioner of Equestrian Roads to glow and stick, proving the document and the connected request to be genuine.

It only took him about twenty minutes.  Looking up, he reported, “Ma'am, I found a car that meets your needs.  It will take two days to get it here.  We cross checked with Princess Luna herself.  She has ordered it as a special train, with its own engine and fuel car.  Once it is here, it can be ready to load your party in only two hours.  Those are needed for proper maintenance.”

Grata nodded acceptance.  “That is fine.  Where can we safely park our cart and stay by it?”

“Stay by it?  I can easily book you into a resort hotel.”  He rubbed his chin in thought.  A glance over at the dead Krayard, where the changeling was happily chomping down gobbets of the carcass, surrounded by Eagles who were also feeding with none of the expected squabbling.  

They were all surrounded by the delicate green glow of changeling magic.

The Station Manager sort of swallowed hard.  “OK, I see why you won’t want a hotel room!”  Rubbing his chin, he suggested, “Try our Warehouse #2. We will lock the pegasus ports from the inside.  Same for the main doors.  Entry and exit will be through the office.  Will that do?”

“It sounds perfect.  Let us see it.  Doctor Do will be the final judge of that.”

The remaining two days stayed quiet.  They built small fires for the changeling on a regular basis, to help her keep her eggs warm.  Eagles perched along the roof crest and in the trees nearby.  

They brought gifts of fish from the lake and a good variety of greens for Daring Do.  These, they laid at the door to the warehouse office.

When the special short train arrived, they opened the main door to the warehouse and brought out the cart and the changeling.  Oddly, it was Gryphons among the tourists who cheered them the most.

A pony asked a cheering Gryphon, “How can you cheer that one?  I mean, it is a changeling and it ate one of your kind!”

The Gryphon paused, crest showing puzzlement.  “Why is that wrong?  He was attacking nest and young.  Besides that, he was violating the will and law of your Princesses and our Empress.  Such a being has no honor.  His death was to be unmarked and unburried, for scavengers to eat.  That it benefited nest and young was a good thing!

“Hurrah for the Left Wing of the Throne!”

The pony shook his head.  “Every time that I think that I have started to understand you Gryphons, something like this happens!”

They watched as the baggage car door was opened and the cart and changeling were loaded.  The door was sealed and Daring Do, Grata and Rahak boarded the passenger part of the car.  Eagles perched on top of it!

With the loud Chug! Chug! The hissing of steam, bells clanging, and the blast of a whistle, the journey to the Gryphon Empire began.

The changeling came out to be with them for a little bit.  She watched the passing scenery with fascination.  Daring Do pulled out her writing kit and offered it to her.

She also brought out the copy of the original document of the Legends, the one written just before 54 years after the last Nightmare War.

She explained what she wanted.  The changeling smiled and began to write.  She took time off to go tend her precious Eagle eggs, but returned to her task.

At a fuel stop, Daring Do was stretching her legs.  The Engineer approached her.  He was shaking his head.  “Ma'am, we will be in the Empire this evening!  I have never seen anything like this run!  Princess Luna cleared the entire mainline, all the way to the Imperial Aerie.  The Empress herself ordered the border opened to us without the need for a stop!  We will be at the Imperial Aerie by no later than ten tomorrow.  This is our last stop before the Imperial Aerie.”

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#DARING DO AND THE GRYPHON'S QUEST! #Part 15 of 19 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer and Carmen Pondiego

[multipleservicelisting]

Biden Picks Former F.D.A. Chief to Lead Federal Vaccine Efforts

President-elect Joseph R. Biden Jr. has chosen Dr. David Kessler to help lead Operation Warp Speed, the program to accelerate development of Covid-19 vaccines and treatments, according to transition officials.

Dr. Kessler, a pediatrician and lawyer who headed the Food and Drug Administration during the presidencies of George Bush and Bill Clinton, has been a key adviser to Mr. Biden on Covid-19 policy and is co-chair of the transition team’s Covid-19 task force.

He will replace Dr. Moncef Slaoui, a researcher and former drug company executive, who will become a consultant to Operation Warp Speed. Dr. Kessler will share top responsibilities for the initiative with Gen. Gustave F. Perna, who will continue as chief operating officer, according to a Biden transition spokesman. Dr. Kessler’s responsibilities will cover manufacturing, distribution and the safety and efficacy of vaccines and therapeutics.

“Dr. Kessler became a trusted adviser to the Biden campaign and to President-elect Biden at the beginning of the pandemic, and has probably briefed Biden 50 or 60 times since March,” said Anita Dunn, co-chair of the transition team. “When staff gets asked, ‘What do the doctors say?,’ we know that David Kessler is one of the doctors that President-elect Biden expects us to have consulted.”

Dr. Kessler will join Operation Warp Speed at a critical time. Although the program is widely credited with making possible the development of two highly effective coronavirus vaccines in record time, it has been much less successful at actually delivering the shots to the public — a complex task it shares with numerous federal, state and local authorities.

The Trump administration had vowed to vaccinate 20 million people by the end of 2020, but as of Thursday, just over 11 million inoculations had been given, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

At some vaccination sites, long lines of elderly people have queued up for hours waiting for a vaccine; at others, a lack of willing recipients is forcing providers to offer the shots to random passers-by, before the doses expire.

In the late fall, Dr. Kessler warned Mr. Biden that Operation Warp Speed was not prepared for getting the shots into people’s arms. The transition team said last week that the president-elect intended to create vaccination sites in high school gyms, convention centers and mobile units to reach high-risk populations. Details of the plans are expected on Friday.

In addition to working to speed delivery of vaccines throughout the country, Dr. Kessler is expected to increase the emphasis on development of treatments, and he plans to begin a major antiviral development program for treatment of Covid-19, according to transition officials. He also wants to build U.S. capacity for manufacturing vaccines against the coronavirus as well as leading known pathogens.

Dr. Kessler is close to Dr. Anthony Fauci, the nation’s top infectious disease doctor who became the leading governmental voice on the coronavirus pandemic. The two worked closely to speed the development and approval of drugs that changed the course of the AIDS epidemic in the 1990s.

Covid-19 Vaccines ›

Answers to Your Vaccine Questions

If I live in the U.S., when can I get the vaccine?

While the exact order of vaccine recipients may vary by state, most will likely put medical workers and residents of long-term care facilities first. If you want to understand how this decision is getting made, this article will help.

When can I return to normal life after being vaccinated?

Life will return to normal only when society as a whole gains enough protection against the coronavirus. Once countries authorize a vaccine, they’ll only be able to vaccinate a few percent of their citizens at most in the first couple months. The unvaccinated majority will still remain vulnerable to getting infected. A growing number of coronavirus vaccines are showing robust protection against becoming sick. But it’s also possible for people to spread the virus without even knowing they’re infected because they experience only mild symptoms or none at all. Scientists don’t yet know if the vaccines also block the transmission of the coronavirus. So for the time being, even vaccinated people will need to wear masks, avoid indoor crowds, and so on. Once enough people get vaccinated, it will become very difficult for the coronavirus to find vulnerable people to infect. Depending on how quickly we as a society achieve that goal, life might start approaching something like normal by the fall 2021.

If I’ve been vaccinated, do I still need to wear a mask?

Yes, but not forever. The two vaccines that will potentially get authorized this month clearly protect people from getting sick with Covid-19. But the clinical trials that delivered these results were not designed to determine whether vaccinated people could still spread the coronavirus without developing symptoms. That remains a possibility. We know that people who are naturally infected by the coronavirus can spread it while they’re not experiencing any cough or other symptoms. Researchers will be intensely studying this question as the vaccines roll out. In the meantime, even vaccinated people will need to think of themselves as possible spreaders.

Will it hurt? What are the side effects?

The Pfizer and BioNTech vaccine is delivered as a shot in the arm, like other typical vaccines. The injection won’t be any different from ones you’ve gotten before. Tens of thousands of people have already received the vaccines, and none of them have reported any serious health problems. But some of them have felt short-lived discomfort, including aches and flu-like symptoms that typically last a day. It’s possible that people may need to plan to take a day off work or school after the second shot. While these experiences aren’t pleasant, they are a good sign: they are the result of your own immune system encountering the vaccine and mounting a potent response that will provide long-lasting immunity.

Will mRNA vaccines change my genes?

No. The vaccines from Moderna and Pfizer use a genetic molecule to prime the immune system. That molecule, known as mRNA, is eventually destroyed by the body. The mRNA is packaged in an oily bubble that can fuse to a cell, allowing the molecule to slip in. The cell uses the mRNA to make proteins from the coronavirus, which can stimulate the immune system. At any moment, each of our cells may contain hundreds of thousands of mRNA molecules, which they produce in order to make proteins of their own. Once those proteins are made, our cells then shred the mRNA with special enzymes. The mRNA molecules our cells make can only survive a matter of minutes. The mRNA in vaccines is engineered to withstand the cell’s enzymes a bit longer, so that the cells can make extra virus proteins and prompt a stronger immune response. But the mRNA can only last for a few days at most before they are destroyed.

When George Bush appointed him to lead the F.D.A. in 1990, AIDS was raging in the United States. During Dr. Kessler’s tenure, the F.D.A. issued new rules designed to speed drug approval. The pharmaceutical industry developed a class of antiviral drugs to treat AIDS/H.I.V., called protease inhibitors, some of which were approved within 40 days.

“Every one of those drugs I did with Tony,” Dr. Kessler said of Dr. Fauci in an interview. “We did it together. We approved more than a dozen antivirals plus antibiotics. We accelerated the approval, but we did it the right way.”

As commissioner, Dr. Kessler was also known for his battle against the tobacco industry, which until then had been considered sacrosanct in American politics.

Under his direction, and with significant help from the investigator Jack Mitchell, the F.D.A. proved that the tobacco industry knew for 50 years that nicotine was an addictive drug and that cigarette companies could control the levels of nicotine in their products.

That work set the stage for the landmark Master Settlement Agreement in 1998, which forced the tobacco industry to pay an estimated $206 billion in damages to the states, and to change the way they advertised and sold tobacco products. It also led to the 2009 passage of the Family Smoking Prevention and Tobacco Control Act, which finally gave the F.D.A. the authority to regulate tobacco products.

Dr. Kessler’s other big focus in government was improving American diets. As F.D.A. commissioner, he developed modern-day nutrition facts labels that are easy to read and include basic nutritional information that was often previously omitted.

After leaving the F.D.A., Dr. Kessler served as dean of the Yale School of Medicine, followed by a stint as dean and vice chancellor of the University of California, San Francisco Medical School. After blowing the whistle on financial irregularities at the university, he was dismissed as dean, but after an independent auditor concluded he was correct, the university apologized and he stayed on as a professor.

In 2018, Dr. Kessler became chairman of the board of the Center for Science in the Public Interest, a food and health watchdog group that is often critical of federal health policy.

He has served on the board of Immucor, a provider of transfusion and transplantation diagnostics products, for several years. In 2020, he joined the board of Ellodi Pharmaceuticals, a spinoff from Adare Pharmaceuticals, specializing in gastroenterology-focused drugs.

This week, he resigned from all three boards and is divesting his stock in the businesses. He said he did not own any stock in vaccine-related or pharmaceutical companies.

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[dailykhaleej]

#BoisLockerRoom: Delhi schoolboy in custody over Instagram chat group sharing nude images of under-age girls

Picture Credit score: Inventory picture

Leaked screenshots of a non-public Instagram chat group, run by teenage schoolboys in the Indian capital of Delhi, have stirred up a storm over rape tradition in the nation. The group chat referred to as “Bois Locker Room” consists of Delhi schoolboys from grade 11 and 12, sharing nude and morphed pictures of underage girls, adopted by lewd discussions on their our bodies.

Indian social media customers are “shocked” on the leaked screenshots and the open graphic sexualisation and language used in the chat. And, associated hashtags have been trending since Might 3, to debate the problem.

#BoysLockerRoom: What occurred?

In an Instagram expose on Might 3, reportedly, a number of younger Indian Instagram influencers like Aashna Sharma and @Anuvaa posted screenshots from a group titled “Bois locker room,” despatched to them by a whistleblower.

The publish learn: “A group of south Delhi guys aged 17-18 types have this ig gc (Instagram group chat) named “boy’s locker room” where they… objectify and morph pictures of girls their age. Two boys from my school are a part of it. MY FRIENDS AND I ARE FREAKING OUT THIS IS SO EWWW AND NOW MY MOM WANTS ME TO QUIT IG.”

The group’s members are stated to belong to distinguished colleges in Delhi. These boys have been seen swapping footage of largely underage girls saved from their Fb and Instagram, accompanied by specific lewd feedback on their physique components and graphic descriptions of what the boys wish to do to them.

Because the influencers had shared this on Instagram tales that might not final for greater than 24 hours, some Indian netizens, copied the standing and shared them on their very own feeds for a wider attain:

Quickly, the information unfold on Twitter, too, and #boyslockerroom started trending. A number of customers even claimed to have gone to high school with some of the chat group’s members.

Step by step because the screenshots gained consideration, the group of boys who have been named, began panicking. The teenagers, as an alternative of apologising or feeling any guilt, began threatening violence, orchestrating kidnapping and belting out concepts like morphing extra footage, directed on the influencers who posted the tales and anybody who shared them.

Sharma and different girls who have been posting concerning the group chat stated they acquired abuses and threats and their accounts have been being hacked.

Ultimately, on Might 4, some of the boys issued public apologies, however Twitterati have been in no temper to let go of the violation of the privateness of underage girls as an harmless mistake.

In keeping with Indian information web site shethepeople.television: “To their horror, screenshots of that conversation were leaked as well. Some of the boys immediately changed their handles or deleted their accounts, some apologised, but most of them were too busy trying to find ways to skirt the consequences and exact revenge. Over the span of the day, several more such groups sprang up as if to register their protest against being held accountable for their actions – symptomatic yet again of the raw toxic masculinity that pervades this demographic.”

Many have taken to Twitter to focus on how society continues to normalise predatory sexual behaviour at a younger age, and others stated the incident might probably carry concerning the #MeToo of the teenage world. Some, even share comparable experiences that they had confronted.

Such behaviour must be stopped at an early age, stated a tweet by the Mumbai police.

One Arrested: Authorized motion being taken

On Might Three and 4, tweeps tagged police Instagram handles in Delhi, asking for fast motion.

Delhi Fee for Girls took suo motu cognizance of the matter, as did the Delhi Cyber Cell.

The Delhi Cyber Cell filed an FIR. On Might 5, police apprehended a 15-year-old boy after a faculty filed a criticism. They’re additionally probing the matter additional.

In keeping with a number of information stories, a senior police officer stated, “On Monday, we found out that the administration of a prominent private school had filed a complaint at Saket police station. In their complaint, school authorities requested police to investigate the incident. Police, using technical surveillance, got the registered number of the 15-year-old, who had allegedly shared a photograph on the group. His phone was switched off. After finding his address, he was apprehended on Monday evening.”

Police have to this point discovered that some college students of main South Delhi colleges created the Instagram group in the final week of March. That is across the similar time that India declared the coronavirus lockdown.

The members then began including their associates.

“A few members are in college. Some of the teens allegedly started sharing photos posted by schoolgirls on their Instagram accounts, and passing sexually explicit comments,” an officer stated, including that the purported chats additionally included threats of sexual violence.

In keeping with a report by Indian information web site, indianexpress.com, District Commissioner of Police (DCP – Cyber Cell), Anyesh Roy stated: “After we came to know, we registered an FIR under Sections 465 (forgery), 471 (using as genuine a forged document or electronic record), 469 (forgery for purpose of harming reputation), 509 (word, gesture or act intended to insult the modesty of a woman) and Sections 67 (publishing or transmitting obscene material in electronic form) and 67A (publishing or transmitting of material containing sexually explicit act in electronic form) of the IT Act. We are probing the matter and collecting all technical evidence.”

In keeping with the article, to this point, names of 4 non-public colleges from South Delhi and one from Noida have been linked to the group. The principal of one of the Delhi colleges stated: “It appears that some of the students who were part of the group were from our school. By the time we got to know, a complaint had already reached police. It does come as a shock to us as we have an atmosphere in school that encourages discussion around issues of gender and respect, as well as cybercrime. We have had several workshops. Schools try to build a secure but open space for children where discussion is encouraged. I also believe that the involvement of parents in their children’s lives is very important when it comes to things like these. Parents need to take on these roles, and not just that of disciplining or leaving the child alone altogether. They are ready to give children unfettered access to smartphones but, in many cases, the discussions around responsibility and respect are missing.”

In a press assertion on the matter, a Fb spokesperson stated, “We absolutely do not allow behaviour that promotes sexual violence or exploits anyone, especially women and young people, and have actioned content violating our Community Standards as we were made aware of it. We have policies that disallow the sharing of non-consensual intimate imagery, as well as threats to share such imagery and we take this issue very seriously. Ensuring our community can express themselves in a safe and respectful way is our top priority.”

Demand for little one pornography sees an increase in India, amid lockdown

Apparently, in response to an April report, the lockdown has seen an increase in the demand for little one porn in 100 cities in India. “Knowledge from Pornhub, one of the biggest pornography web sites in the world, reveals that between March 24 and March 26, India-centric visitors on its web site has risen by 95 per cent as in comparison with their common visitors earlier than the pandemic struck. A big phase of this spike might be attributed to the demand for little one pornography content material,” the India Baby Safety Fund report said final month.

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[madehq]

Surviving the (Data) Protection Racket

Among certain circles, GDPR is the only thing to be talking about in 2018. And while we don’t get invited to the coolest marketing parties, we think it’s probably on everyone’s lips there too.

If you’re a non-European reader of this blog, please accept our apologies in advance. You might want to get the low-down on the new European General Data Protection Regulation. You might also want to check whether the Regulation will apply to you. There's been a lot of media noise about the extra-territorial applicability of GDPR, although we expect that most site-based cultural organisations that aren't in the EU won't qualify.

I don’t want to go over ground that has already been well-covered for the cultural sector, particularly by Leo Sharrock, Andrew Thomas and Katy Raines in the UK.  Definitely talk to one of them if you have questions or need help. If you’re a Made client, then do get in touch with us if you have any questions about how this affects your website or online ticketing path.

Having spoken with many people both inside and outside of the sector about GDPR over the last six to twelve months, I wanted to make a few observations on the impact of the new regulations on cultural organisations in the UK:

Keep Calm

It’s clear that cultural organisations are better placed than most other sectors to weather GDPR, so the first message has to be: ‘Don’t Panic’.

Arts and culture organisations have a good track record in not spamming their customers, and endeavouring to only send them relevant information, rather than mass mailing everyone in their list regardless of consent.

That said, there are some important exercises to go through to make sure you’re covered when GDPR goes live in May. There’s been plenty of useful information about the basis of processing (especially consent vs. legitimate interest) which I won’t need to go over here. You need to choose the basis (or multiple bases) for processing that works for your organisation and the way that you use data. The ICO also says that you might use a mixture of bases for processing depending on the range of activities you undertake. Deciding on your bases for processing is not a quick-and-easy decision, as the ICO’s guidance is explicit that “you should not swap to a different lawful basis at a later date without good reason”.

Once you’ve decided on the correct basis for processing for you, make sure you document it, and that you communicate it to the individuals whose data you are processing. The key new principle of the GDPR is the one relating to ‘accountability’, and my prediction is that this is the part that is going to bite most quickly once we get past May 2018. This goes for privacy policies too - see below. There will be plenty of cultural organisations that are already doing things broadly in line with the regulations, but without the right documentation they won’t be able to prove it if the Information Commissioner comes a-knocking.

Reassess

For most cultural organisations, GDPR can be seen as an opportunity, rather than a threat. Use it as an excuse to re-think the way you do permission marketing. Use it as a lever to get the money you need to invest in your data collection processes (whether these are online or offline). Just don’t use it as a reason to stop talking to your customers and supporters.

Sometimes a regulatory stick can be a great opportunity to coalesce a business around the need for change. The most effective marketing activity is relevant and carefully targeted, so this is your chance to ensure that your marketing processes and systems are geared towards sending your customers what will be useful and relevant to them, and that they want to receive. You’ll do better marketing and be more compliant with GDPR at the same time.

Regulation, Regulation, Regulation

We haven’t seen much discussion of GDPR from a web development perspective. I don’t think this is because it isn’t relevant, but because the focus has been on CRM type ‘heavy’ personal data. But the GDPR is pretty clear that it now covers data that has the potential to be personally identifiable, even implicitly. One example given by the ICO in their guidance is IP addresses, and how these might be linked to more identifiable data-points tracked by websites via cookies stored on website users’ computers.

There is more specific regulation on this coming down the pipe from the EU [another one? -Ed.], in the form of a new E-Privacy Regulation (an update of the previous EU “Cookie Law” that prompted sites to start implementing cookie permission pop-ups on their sites). This regulation is likely to simplify matters for more routine and functional cookies, like first-party cookies tracking online carts, or fairly standard Google Analytics cookies, and is likely to push the burden of consent for these cookies to the browser manufacturers rather than site administrators.

However, the combination of GDPR and the new EPR is going to raise harder-to-answer questions about the use of third-party tracking and digital advertising services regularly used by cultural organisations to retarget site visitors. Are you confident that you understand how these third-party plugins, advertising and tracking scripts you’ve installed on your site capture data from your site visitors, how they store it, and whether you have a legal and reasonable basis for processing data in this way? Using legitimate interest might be sufficient for routine/functional cookies, but given the intrusion of online advertising, you might need to consider a consent-based approach (which would have to be clear, opt-in, and freely given) to continue using these cookies.

Be Reasonable

In general, there are few hard and fast rules when it comes to GDPR. However, it is important to follow the principles laid out in the regulation and act in ways that reasonable people would expect you to act. Coming back to the accountability principle, one of the best pieces of advice I’ve heard on this so far comes from the session on GDPR [AMA member access] at last year’s AMA conference: if a member of the public walked in off the street and asked you why they’d received a brochure from you in the post, or a text message to their mobile phone, can you give them the detailed response they’d expect to hear?

Get Your House in Order

There are some practical bureaucratic steps you should be taking, that I haven’t seen as much discussion about:

Tightening up contracts. If you have contracts in place with data processors (ticketing systems, payment providers etc.) then make sure they are revised before GDPR-day in line with the ICO’s guidance.

‘Lost and forgotten’ privacy statements. When was the last time you reviewed yours? This is a key part of adhering to the new regulation, and comes back to this principle of ‘Accountability’ that is going to be so critical under the new regulatory framework. You need to document your basis for processing for the various purposes you use data, and you need to update your cookie policy to ensure you’re clear on the basis of processing for this data as well.

Auditing consent. If you’re being accountable, you need to know information about how consent was collected and who/what collected it. This goes as far as being able to demonstrate the language that the individual saw when they opted in.

In other words, it’s dull, but get your paperwork in order. And then sit back and enjoy your hard-won GDPR bragging rights at all those super-cool marketing cocktail parties we hear so much about.

General Disclaimer: we are not lawyers, and nothing in the above should be considered legal advice. If you think you need legal advice, get some.

#gdpr

[spiderfan22]

DAY TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-TWO - 7/25/17

“SCENES FROM THE NEW BATMAN” by DJS

And this is coming from a guy who actually LIKES Batman!!!

                       Scene one: an alley

 In which Batman beats the shit of a middle-aged white politician.  Robin enters. He is shocked at Batman’s brutality. And all that blood.

 BATMAN

           (yelling in politician’s face)

TELL ME!!!!!

                         POLITICIAN

           (whimpering)

But I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Batman!  I don’t know about any bribes!  I’m clean -- I swear I’m clean!

                         BATMAN

UN. LIKELY!!!!!!

 Batman is about to punch the politician in the face again, when Robin steps in:

 ROBIN

Batman -- Jesus Christ!! Stop!!  You can’t just, I mean it’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re talking about or he’d have told you already -- confessed.  But look at him.  You’ve knocked like a bunch of his teeth out and his eyes are swollen shut. He can’t even see anymore, Batman!

                         BATMAN

You’re the one who’s blind, Robin. This piece of shit knows the truth! And I’m getting it out of him.

                         ROBIN

But you beat him up anymore, Batman, and you might kill him!  I mean he’s gotta have suffered brain damage already.  Look he’s practically unconscious!  His tongue’s hanging out and, and… oh God.   I mean the blood alone!

                         BATMAN

Fine!

           (He releases the politician)

We’ll let Gordon and his men take the next crack at him.  But I’d bet my life -- and yours, “Boy Wonder” -- that we’ve only scratched the surface with this sonuvabitch.  

                         ROBIN

Okay.  Fine.  Just -- please?  Can we go now?

                         BATMAN

Yeah, bring the Batmobile around.

                         ROBIN

I’m 14.  I can’t drive yet.  

                         BATMAN

Oh.

 Batman considers that.  Then he slowly walks away.  Robin stands there shaking his head for a moment.  Looks down at the bloody and beaten politician.  Then he follows.

   Scene two: the Batcave

 In which Batman cyber-stalks his ex-girlfriends. Alfred arrives with a bowl of hot soup on a tray.

 ALFRED

           (seeing the computer screen)

Aw, Master Bruce.  Is that wise now, taking a trip down memory lane? Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

                         BATMAN

But this is Silver St. Cloud, Alfred.

                         ALFRED

Yes sir, I remember Miss St Cloud quite vividly.  Beautiful, charming, the life of the party.  But then she could never reconcile the man with the bat, so you quite humanely called things off, letting the young woman go on with her life.

                         BATMAN

She’s dating some politician now.

                         ALFRED

Yes, I have read the same in the society pages.

                         BATMAN

He doesn’t deserve her.  

                         ALFRED

           (he hesitates)

Perhaps -- and if I am out of line, sir, I apologize in advance -- but just perhaps, Master Bruce, that is your own jealousy speaking.

                         BATMAN

It’s not.

                         ALFRED

           (slowly)

Alright, sir.

           (pause)

Well, I’ve brought you some hot soup. Beef consommé.

                         BATMAN

I’m not hungry.

                         ALFRED

But you haven’t eaten a solid meal in over a week, sir.

                         BATMAN

And what’s beef consommé now, a “solid meal?”

                         ALFRED No sir, but it does possess the necessary vitamins--

                         BATMAN

I said I’m not hungry, Alfred.  

                         ALFRED

Yes, Master Bruce.

                         BATMAN

You should learn to listen the first time.

                         ALFRED

Of course.  I’m sorry.  Sir.

                         BATMAN

Good.  You’re excused.

 Alfred leaves with the bowl of soup.  Batman obsesses on the screen in front of him, fixating on a closeup of a smiling Silver St. Cloud in the arms of the politician from the previous scene.  He zooms in until it’s just a closeup of her cleavage.

   Scene three: the rooftop of the Gotham Police Department

 In which Batman argues with Commissioner Gordon. The Batsignal is present but not lit.

 GORDON

I can’t do it, Batman.

                         BATMAN

           (grunts)

WHY. NOT.

                         GORDON

Because it breaks about a dozen laws -- not to mention it’s completely unconstitutional.

                         BATMAN

Question: would you be throwing the Constitution in my face if this was the Joker we were talking about?

                         GORDON

Look, Batman: we’ve done some digging and as far as we’ve been able to tell so far, there’s just no immediate threat. On the contrary, in the eye of the law, the Senator is a hundred percent clean.

                         BATMAN

Impossible.

                         GORDON

NO.  The guy’s a pillar of his community.  Gives back, gives to charity.  Never even the whiff of a scandal around him.  His wife passed away a couple years back -- cervical cancer.  The incredible thing was it was an election year; he was up for reelection at the time.  But he effectively suspended his campaign so he could be at her bedside the last few months. And get this: when the story gets out that that’s what he’s been doing, his constituents come out anyway and vote the guy back into office.  For Christ sake it was a landslide, with him getting over 90 percent of the vote. Which I don’t care who you are, is unheard of.  So he’s basically a revered kind of figure.  The local boy made good.

                         BATMAN

I don’t believe it.  You need to bring him in for further questioning. Only this time I’ll be in the room too, for a little… extra intimidation.

                         GORDON

Definitely not, Batman.  

           (hesitant)

And speaking of which, while we’re on the subject:  the Senator seems to have recently suffered a number of bumps and bruises, scrapes… Hell, I don’t know why I’m mincing words here.  He’s got cracked ribs, his left arm’s busted in two places and his face looks like someone took a baseball bat to Goddamn pomegranate.

                         BATMAN

I told you, he’s connected to the mob. Which means the senator’s injuries could only be attributed to Carmine Falcone, probably some form of retaliation or warning.  I suggest the GCPD bring him in for questioning as well.  We can play them off each other.  Give new meaning to the term “hot box”.

                         GORDON

Yeah, well.  I got CCTV footage of an alley up in The Narrows that shows you quite clearly beating the Senator half to death.  That’s until Robin has the good sense to pull you away.

                         Small beat.

                         BATMAN

Enough!  There are too many people interfering in my investigation now, it’s becoming clouded.  Obviously I have to go this one alone.

                         GORDON

Yeah, uh, Batman…?  I can’t let you do that.

                         BATMAN

What?!

                         GORDON

Bruce Wayne--

                         BATMAN

How did you--?

                         GORDON

Mr. Wayne I’m placing you under arrest for the assault of Senator Martin Graham.

                         BATMAN

Preposterous!  Jim, how far back do we--

 Through a door on the roof, a bunch of police officers in Kevlar and helmets emerge and surround Batman.  Guns drawn.

 GORDON

You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law--

                         BATMAN

JIM!  THIS IS INSANE.  

                         GORDON

--if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you--

                         BATMAN

Are you--?  Of course I can afford an attorney!  I’M BATMAN!!

 Batman struggles but the officers overpower him. He is forced to his knees and his hands are cuffed behind his back.  

   Scene four: Prison cell

 In which Batman has been denied bail due to being an extreme flight risk.  He shares a cell with a serial rapist.  A hulking brute of a guy covered head to toe in tattoos.  Batman is dressed in a prison orange jumpsuit, but still wears his cowl.

 RAPIST

So this is what essentially is going to happen.  This is how it’s gonna go down.    I’m horny. I mean I get horny.  And since because there ain’t no available chicks around to pound their fucking pussies, I’m forced to go with the most immediate and available wet hole.  That means your ass, Butt Man.  And I ain’t gonna be gentle neither.  What, you think we got anything nice as lube up in this bitch?  Man, you in Rikers Island!  So I’m not gonna lie, it’s going to hurt.  Bad.  So bad you probly gonna bleed.  But am I gonna give a shit?  Izzat going to make me stop?  Shit – am I gonna even pause in my stroke to check on your delicate, sensitive little lady feelings?  Fuck no. I’ma just keep ramming it home, ramming it home, till Daddy gets his nut.  Now how’s that sound, Mister Caped Crusader?

                         BATMAN

Please… don’t hurt me.  I’ll… I’ll pay you.  Whatever.  Anything. A million dollars… two million.   All you have to do is take care of me, don’t let anyone else harm me or… just while I’m in here, just until I get out.  I’ll wire the money to your account.  As much as you want.  Only please--

                         RAPIST

My account, huh?  And what account would that be?  My one in Switzerland or down in the Caymans?  You are seriously divorced from reality, you know that Batman?

                         BATMAN

I’m beginning to see that, yes.

                         RAPIST

I tell you what, let’s make us a deal. Because I gotta get my rocks off, there’s no getting around that.  But I’ll spare you ass – and protect your ass too round here – long as you keep me satisfied in the general sense.

                         BATMAN

What do you [mean] --?

                         RAPIST

Suck-jobs and handies.  That’s it.  That’s all.

 Beat.  Batman looks around the tiny cell, nowhere else to turn.

 BATMAN

What other choice do I have?

                         RAPIST

None.  And that attitude of accepting your fate and just going with the flow will serve you well behind bars.  Believe me.

 They sit there a moment, in silence, the Rapist waiting.

 RAPIST

Uh, well??

                         BATMAN

Well what?

                         RAPIST

What do you think, Dork Knight? Get to fucking sucking or the deal’s off.  

                         BATMAN

Oh.  Right now?  It has to be right now?

                         RAPIST

Right now and every evening round this time.  I like to keep my schedule regular.

                         BATMAN

Oh… okay.

(The rapist pulls down his pants.)

Uh, how should I--?

                         RAPIST

Start with the head.  But word of advice: I wouldn’t try and shove too much in your mouth to begin with, though I understand the impulse, you want to come on all professional, do a pleasing job, but for the moment just focus on the head and let your hand do the rest of the heavy lifting.  Then you can work up to deepthroating me.  

                         BATMAN

Oh my God.  I think I’m going to be sick.

                         RAPIST

Understandable.  But wait to after.  ‘Cause so help me, you get any puke on me, we gonna have a real problem.

 The rapist lies back on his bunk.  Batman stares, open mouthed, until the rapist gently pulls Batman’s head down towards his crotch.

  Scene five: Wayne Manor, several years later

 In which Batman has retired after spending a couple years locked up.  He is severely overweight now, with chronic diabetes.  He is blind and his right leg has been amputated below the knee.  In a wheelchair.  He drinks and takes pills to excess.  

 Selina Kyle has come to pay him a visit.  She is older but still quite attractive.

 BATMAN

           (sniffing the air)

Selina.

                         SELINA

Hello Bruce.

                         BATMAN

The Catwoman.

                         SELINA

It’s been a long time since anyone called me that.

                         BATMAN

Well, it suited you.  You’ve always been curious.

                         SELINA

Not to mention flexible.

                         BATMAN

Heh.

                         Pause.

                         SELINA

I must say, you don’t look too good Bruce.

                         BATMAN

I’d imagine not.  

                         SELINA

When was the, the--?

                         BATMAN

When did they amputate my leg? God it must have been… what, four years ago?

                         SELINA

I meant to come see you in the hospital.

                         BATMAN

I won’t hold it against you.

                         SELINA

Suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here now.

                         BATMAN

Well, a healthy curiosity is something I like to think we shared.

 Selina sighs.  Pulls a gun from her purse.  Points it at Batman in his wheelchair.  Cocks it just to be sure he’s gotten the message.  Beat.

  BATMAN

I see.

                         SELINA

And I’m sorry, Bruce, but this is the only way he said I could ever be free.

                         BATMAN

Who said?  No, wait, let me guess.  Joker.

                         SELINA

‘Fraid so, Bruce.  It’s the end of the line.

                         BATMAN

It hasn’t occurred to you that I still might have a trick or two up my sleeve?

                         SELINA

It has.

                         BATMAN

And that doesn’t give you pause?

                         SELINA

I don’t know.  Maybe?  

                         BATMAN

Selina please now, we can discuss this. With our history.  There was love there once, if not a mutual respect. And--

 But Selina is already crossing the room, moving behind Batman.  She puts the gun to the back of his head.  He feels the muzzle against his scalp and freaks:

 BATMAN

Wait!  No!  Selina!! SELINA DON’T NN--

 She pulls the trigger.  The gun goes off with a loud bang.  Blood and brains and bone explode out of the front of Batman’s head and he slumps forward, falling out of his wheelchair.  Smoke wafts in the air.  Selina places the gun in the dead Batman’s hand, making it look like a suicide. It’s only now we notice she’s been wearing gloves this whole time.  She looks down at the body for another moment.  Then she goes.  

We hear her high-heeled footsteps receding through the front hall.  Then the door creaking way off and slamming shut, quietly.

 The Dark Knight Has Fallen.

 End of play.

#batman #dc comics #dark knight #caped crusader #short play #catwoman #robin #alfred pennyworth #prison

[ask-de-writer]

DARING DO and the Gryphon’s Quest! : MLP Fan Fiction : Chapter 15 of 19

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

DARING DO

and

The Gryphon’s Quest!

Chapter 15

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

and

Carmen Pondiego

Cover art by Wind the Mama Cat

29584 words

© 2016 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 03/29/16

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

This is a Fan Fiction based on My Little Pony.  Canterlot, Princess Luna and the name Daring Do are owned by Hasboro Inc.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  

1.) They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.

2.) They may use the characters  or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works,  cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

3.) All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction are actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

For new readers, this link leads to the beginning of  

Daring Do and the Gryphon’s Quest!

///////////////////////

Chapter 15. Journey to the Gryphon Empire

The screen of Eagles overhead made certain that there was no further aerial assault.  There were no further adventures beyond the changeling’s continuous wonder and delight at the mundane seeming world that they passed through.  

That did not stop her from needing fires four times a day to draw warmth from.  Warmth that she then shared out to her precious eggs.  Her dedication to turning them and keeping them safe was past impressive.

At the Circle Lake Resort rail terminus Grata laid out her ID as the Left Wing of the Imperial Throne and her Letters of Cooperation from Princess Luna and Princess Celestia.

“Good Station Master, we require a safe place to keep our cart untouched except by members of our party until you can obtain a car that will meet our transport needs.”

The pony looked up at Grata.  From behind his ticketing window grating he asked, “What is so special about your car needs?”

Grata, crest set dead serious, replied, “We need a single baggage/passenger car with a galley suitable for both Gryphon and pony diets.  There must be a communicating door between the passenger and baggage parts.”

The Station Master pony scratched behind his orange ear as he thought. “There are precious few such cars as you require.  I can do a Magic Net check to see how soon I can get one here.  The check might take an hour or two.”

An arrogant Gryphon voice interrupted, “It is of no importance!  This Blasphemous Venture Ends HERE!  They did not go to the so called Sunlord Temple at all!

“I, Krayard, High Priest of the Twin Flames of Creation, shall personally destroy anything in that cart that I deem blasphemous!  That changeling must be slaughtered!  As for those eggs, I will make an omelet of …”

Three power diving Eagles interrupted his oration by slamming him to the station platform!  Their extended talons drew blood.  As he tried frantically to flutter back to his feet, two more diving Eagles smashed talon first into his wings, pinning his spread out pinions!  Another Eagle struck Krayard in his center back, between the wings!  

Added to the crunch of clawed claws smashing into him, there was the cracking of bone!  Krayard’s hindquarters suddenly spasmed wildly and went limp!

Shocked beyond measure, he cried out, “Make them stop!  Why are they attacking me?”

Rahak replied, crest set to show mild interest, “How can we?  They are not tame creatures doing some trick.  You threatened both their mother and their young that she is tending.”

“Mother!  How is that monster of blasphemy any sort of mother to anything?”

The Eagles had paused their attack, except that the one on Krayard’s neck struck suddenly!  He lifted his head, beak dripping the gore of the priest’s right eye.  Striking yet again, he blinded the Gryphon under his talons.

Grata filled in, “How stupid are you, Krayard? The first living being that a chick sees becomes mother to it.  This changeling was the sole survivor of her hive.  We do not know where the hive was, or how long she has been raising Eagles but these are all following their mother.

“Defending Nest and Young is NEVER murder and that is what they are doing!  I see no reason to interfere.” Grata turned her back on the carnage that followed as the Eagles began to strip the flesh from his carcass.

Speaking to the appalled Station Master, Grata said cheerfully, “My apologies for the mess.  I will pay extra for cleaning the platform.”

Tearing his eyes from the ghastly sight of the Gryphon’s now still carcass being stripped by a horde of Eagles who were feeding cooperatively, the Station Master swallowed hard and replied, “Thanks, ma'am.  Was not looking forward to getting that job done.  About that car, let me get started on finding it for you.”

He busied himself with a magic net mirror.  He applied Princess Luna’s note of cooperation, which caused the Royal Seal of the High Commissioner of Equestrian Roads to glow and stick, proving the document and the connected request to be genuine.

It only took him about twenty minutes.  Looking up, he reported, “Ma'am, I found a car that meets your needs.  It will take two days to get it here.  We cross checked with Princess Luna herself.  She has ordered it as a special train, with its own engine and fuel car.  Once it is here, it can be ready to load your party in only two hours.  Those are needed for proper maintenance.”

Grata nodded acceptance.  “That is fine.  Where can we safely park our cart and stay by it?”

“Stay by it?  I can easily book you into a resort hotel.”  He rubbed his chin in thought.  A glance over at the dead Krayard, where the changeling was happily chomping down gobbets of the carcass, surrounded by Eagles who were also feeding with none of the expected squabbling.  

They were all surrounded by the delicate green glow of changeling magic.

The Station Manager sort of swallowed hard.  “OK, I see why you won’t want a hotel room!”  Rubbing his chin, he suggested, “Try our Warehouse #2. We will lock the pegasus ports from the inside.  Same for the main doors.  Entry and exit will be through the office.  Will that do?”

“It sounds perfect.  Let us see it.  Doctor Do will be the final judge of that.”

The remaining two days stayed quiet.  They built small fires for the changeling on a regular basis, to help her keep her eggs warm.  Eagles perched along the roof crest and in the trees nearby.  

They brought gifts of fish from the lake and a good variety of greens for Daring Do.  These, they laid at the door to the warehouse office.

When the special short train arrived, they opened the main door to the warehouse and brought out the cart and the changeling.  Oddly, it was Gryphons among the tourists who cheered them the most.

A pony asked a cheering Gryphon, “How can you cheer that one?  I mean, it is a changeling and it ate one of your kind!”

The Gryphon paused, crest showing puzzlement.  “Why is that wrong?  He was attacking nest and young.  Besides that, he was violating the will and law of your Princesses and our Empress.  Such a being has no honor.  His death was to be unmarked and unburried, for scavengers to eat.  That it benefited nest and young was a good thing!

“Hurrah for the Left Wing of the Throne!”

The pony shook his head.  “Every time that I think that I have started to understand you Gryphons, something like this happens!”

They watched as the baggage car door was opened and the cart and changeling were loaded.  The door was sealed and Daring Do, Grata and Rahak boarded the passenger part of the car.  Eagles perched on top of it!

With the loud Chug! Chug! The hissing of steam, bells clanging, and the blast of a whistle, the journey to the Gryphon Empire began.

The changeling came out to be with them for a little bit.  She watched the passing scenery with fascination.  Daring Do pulled out her writing kit and offered it to her.

She also brought out the copy of the original document of the Legends, the one written just before 54 years after the last Nightmare War.

She explained what she wanted.  The changeling smiled and began to write.  She took time off to go tend her precious Eagle eggs, but returned to her task.

At a fuel stop, Daring Do was stretching her legs.  The Engineer approached her.  He was shaking his head.  “Ma'am, we will be in the Empire this evening!  I have never seen anything like this run! Princess Luna cleared the entire mainline, all the way to the Imperial Aerie.  The Empress herself ordered the border opened to us without the need for a stop!  We will be at the Imperial Aerie by no later than ten tomorrow.  This is our last stop before the Imperial Aerie.”

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#Daring Do and the Gryphon;s Quest! #Chapter 15 #MLP Fan Fiction #Co written by De Writer and Carmen Pondiego