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#posting to my patreon again as well just not on a firm schedule
delimeful · 2 years
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first thing, i am DYING over the new tidamh chapter!!! second thing, how will the hiatus affect chapter posting dates?
due to personal circumstances, i was not posting on my patreon or tumblr for all of august
now i am back and posting to tumblr on saturdays again 👍
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wittyy-name · 3 years
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October’s Patreon Oneshot is Now Available
Prompt: It’s few years after the show ended and it’s Allura Day. It’s morphed in a pretty large celebration over the years, and Lance is involved with the planning. This year is particularly hectic, and he’s late to the Paladin dinner. He and Keith end up kissing, Lance has a mild crisis, and then they have their first time together.
Klance - post season 8 - getting together - 8,242 words It’s been years since they saved the universe, and Lance is… good. He’s good. He feels whole and steady once more. He has a job at the Garrison. And he no longer feel the ache in his chest where Allura once resided. Allura Day, however, has become an intergalactic celebration, and people from all over the universe flock to New Altea to celebrate. So every year, Lance helps Coran wade through the chaos of planning for a planet-wide celebration. 
This year, however, things are more hectic than ever, and Lance finds that he can barely focus, distracted by the simmering anticipation of seeing Keith again.
_______________________________________________
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He can’t wait to see his friends— his family— but there’s a lot of work to do before then. Allura Day has become an intergalactic holiday, and people from all over the universe flock to New Altea to celebrate it. It started out as a little banquet at the castle and has grown into a planet wide all-day festival.
Which unfortunately means a lot of planning, organizing, and diplomatic greetings as distinguished guests start to pour in. He and Coran spearhead the whole operation, but thankfully they have plenty of people to lean on. They’ve formed a whole committee for Allura Day, and volunteers all over the planet have been getting ready for guests for weeks.
Hunk is coming in soon to help set up the catering for at least the capitol. The Atlas won’t be that far behind. They’ve never had any trouble around Allura Day, but it definitely helps to have the diplomatic force of the Atlas hovering in their atmosphere.
Pidge won’t make it until the day before, running a tight schedule with all her experiments and newfound responsibilities. She’ll be bringing the entire Holt clan with her this time.
And Keith… it feels like betrayal to his best buddy in the whole wide universe to say it, but he’s looking forward to seeing Keith the most.
It’s been months since Keith last visited Earth, staying for a whole three weeks with Acxa on the McClain family farm. It had been… a dream, really. The chores around the farm were nothing with Keith at his side. Lazy afternoons and evenings filled with laughter and content companionship. They talked for hours about everything and nothing at all. They fell asleep on the couch because neither of them wanted to end the night and go to bed. And he’d be woken with Keith’s gentle hands nudging his shoulder and offering a cup of coffee.
Keith— formerly the stoic, bristly, grumpy, anti-social leader of Voltron— fit in perfectly with Lance’s family. He laughed. He smiled.
Beautiful violet eyes crinkled at the corners. A cocky smirk, lopsided and playful. The way he always lightly bumps into Lance as they walk. How Lance feels just as comfortable in silence as he does in conversation, which is still so strange to comprehend.
He’ll admit that during that stay, they were attached at the hip. And he’ll admit that they’ve talked a lot since then. Daily. Every morning he looks forward to seeing a message waiting for him, and falling asleep on call has become more and more common.
Keith is just— he’s just— he’s important, okay? He’s important to the universe, and to their little space family, but he’s important to Lance, too.
Who would have guessed that his once-rival would have become one of his best friends?
He just does… things to Lance’s stomach and his sanity.
Seriously, how is it possible to feel sick and elated all at once? To be both tongue-tied and unable to stop rambling.
But Keith has always done funny things to him. Has always made him feel just a little off balance. Has always made him act out in impulsive ways without quite thinking. Has always made his chest a little tight and his head a little light.
It’s just… Keith things.
“Ah-ha!” He says as the conference room doors slide open, spotting his bright orange, Garrison issued phone sitting on the table. He swipes it up, thumbing through the notifications on his screen.
A few from Hunk. Couple from Shay about the ETA of the Balmera. A few fucking dozen from foreign dignitaries and other groups. Not to mention the group chat him and Coran created to keep the wormhole network and shuttle ships in the same loop has blown up.
But—
A single message catches his eye. One that makes his chest tighten and his head feel light. Just… you know. Keith things.
Keith: Can’t wait to see you :)
His stomach does a full on tumble, knotting itself up so tight that Lance wraps an arm around it, wondering if his morning breakfast is hitting him wrong. Sometimes alien cuisine just doesn’t sit right.
There’s an ache in his cheeks as he types out a reply.
Lance: Same to you, Samurai
Lance’s heart beats quick as he leaves the conference room, making his blood run hot beneath his flushed skin. Making him dizzy and his legs shaky as he hurries down the halls of the castle. He has a million and ten things to do before Allura Day, and yet his mind keeps turning back to Keith. About how he can’t wait to show him how well his sword training has been going and about how good it’s going to feel to be wrapped up in those strong arms once more, held tight to a firm chest and yet with a gentle sort of reverence that makes Keith’s hugs special.
You know. Just. Keith things.
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thecleverdame · 4 years
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Gods of Twilight - 15
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Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader
Master List (posting schedule is there as well)
Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.
Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking.  This chapter does contain some non-con elements.
Beta:  @ilikaicalie​
*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE
-
Outside of your private moments together, Sam has always been rather gruff. But even those not in on his secret must know that something is amiss. He’s beyond irritable, yelling at the servants, sending back all his meals muttering about how nothing tastes right.
His rut is fast approaching, but you’re holding firm to your choice to stay with him.
-
“Deep breath in,” the midwife instructs, pressing on your stomach as you lie back on the bed. She palpates your belly, searching for some elusive marker of your fertility. “How often are you together?”
“Often,” you can’t help but grin. “Much more frequently than before.”
“You’re in good health. I have faith you’ll be with a child soon.” She smiles. “It takes longer for some.”
“Martha,” you whisper. There’s no one else in the room but what you’re about to ask is not a request you want one of your handmaids overhearing. They’re waiting in the hall with sharp ears. You know all too well from the gossip they disclose to you on a daily basis. They’re always listening. The servants are the breath and life of the castle, and any scrap of information spreads like wildfire. “I was once told of a concoction that midwives give to women during labor. A drink that helps to ease the pain.”
“Yes, I have my own recipe. Not to worry m’lady, when the time comes it will help.” She sits up, patting your hand.
“Well, I was wondering if you could bring the herbs to me now...today?” You try to remain nonchalant, but her interest is peaked as she sits back.
“Are you in pain, madam?” she inquires, looking toward the closed door. Discretion is vital to her position and she knows how to keep her mouth shut.
“I am not at the moment, but there are times when I am. There is something I need to do for my husband...that I need your help with.” You watch her eyes narrow as you struggle to explain yourself and in turn not make Sam look like some sort of monster. “It’s not what you imagine.”
“I don’t imagine anything. I make no assumptions, my queen. But if you’re experiencing pain when you’re with him, it could be a symptom of something more serious.”
You take a deep breath, trying in vain to hide your embarrassment.
“It’s hard to explain, exactly. But it’s not that I am sensitive in any way that’s abnormal. It’s just that my husband is very...large. And he has certain...demands that I find difficult. I expect him to become even more demanding in the coming days.”
Her eyes widen for a second, but if she’s truly shocked she doesn’t let it rattle her. She simply nods in agreement.
“Anything you need, I will supply. Give me a few hours to put together everything you’ll need.”
“I will need enough for several days,” you add.
She stills again, biting her tongue but confirming your request. “Then that’s what you shall have. I’ll send a messenger this afternoon.”
-
“I’ve asked you plenty of times brother and I’ll ask you again. Won’t you reconsider?”
“Why are you so dead set against me staying with my wife during my rut?” Sam looks to Dean, studying his brother.
“She is not one of us, can’t you see that?” Dean pleads for Sam to understand. “She’s a snake, Sam. Tell me you see it.”
“Stop.” Sam sits back in his chair, amused at the very notion. “Not this again.”
“A woman like that, with her beauty, doesn’t just give herself over for what she’s about to experience. Do you truly believe it’s by chance that you smelled her scent on a letter and then brought her here?”
“What is it that you think she’s up to?” Sam asks, his patience wearing thin. “Tell me. I’m listening. What great caper does she have planned? Will she scale the wall with the crown jewels tucked into her skirts?”
“Her greatest trick was convincing you that she’s harmless.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong.” Sam purses his lips, ready for this conversation to be over.
“Was I wrong about Ruby?” Dean spits back and Sam goes rigid.
“Don’t start with me about Ruby.”
“Even after you knew what a snake she was you kept going back for more. Her affection for you is genuine but it’s tempered with insanity. Ruby was hungry for you, and your power, in equal measures.”
“But Y/N is not Ruby, not even close.”
“That is an unfounded statement. You don’t know anything about her. You married her on a whim and now she’s a human woman willing to withstand your rut. She’ll be the end of you.”
“You sound like father,” Sam retorts. He can’t help but be somewhat flummoxed, his brother is single-minded when it comes to you. “Is this the same nonsense you spouted to her at the cathedral that had her so upset?”
“Of course she came crying back to you. Anything to make her look like a victim.”
“No,” Sam shakes his head. “In fact, she wouldn’t tell me what you said. She kept your confidence even when I asked her to tell me.”
“She’s smart, brother. Intelligent and cunning. Mark my words, you’re going to regret this. What if you hurt her?”
“I won’t,” he shrugs. And he is as sure as he sounds, he’s taken all the necessary precautions. “Rupert mixed me a tincture to help keep me under control.”
“You were practically feral when you had me tie you up…”
“Of course I was. I was in the middle of a rut, unabated.”
“Well, you’ll have someone to fuck this time,” Dean hisses, pouring himself more wine.
“Dean, I need you to stop fixating on her. She’s a good woman and I care for her.”
“I know,” Dean nods, staring at the fire. “I’m just afraid we’re both going to see the day you regret that statement.
--
“Tonight?” You ask hesitantly, watching your husband pull his shirt over his head.
“By morning,” his eyes are locked on you, his muscles flexing as his body tightens, then releases. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes,” you affirm immediately.
The truth is you’ve never been more unsure of anything in your life. Dean’s words are knocking around in your head, but you trust Sam. He would never hurt you, and you believe in his ability to show restraint.
“Would you like to have me tonight?” you offer. His nostrils flare out, clearly excited by the idea. It’s a week since you’ve been together, he insisted on giving you a proper break.
“No, we should wait. This isn’t going to be easy for you.” He lifts his chin toward your side table. ��The midwife brought the tea?” You nod in confirmation. “Drink it now. And have some prepared for later.”
“I will.” You pick up the mug, nearly choking on the bitter taste. “And you have your tincture?”
“Yes, I’ve already taken several doses,” he smiles, crawling into bed. “This will strengthen us. Bond us together, I can feel it in my bones. We’re meant to be together. Do you trust me?”
“Completely,” you assure him, closing your eyes as his forehead comes to rest against yours.  
-
Blinking awake in the dark of the room, all you can feel is an overwhelming heat and stickiness engulfing you. It’s suffocating as you grunt awake, only to find you can hardly move.
Sam is wrapped around you from behind, his hips moving in a steady rhythm, pushing his stiff cock into the small of your back over and over again. He’s sweating like a beast, so much so that you’re practically drowning in him.
“Sam,” you whisper reaching behind to grab at his hip. He groans in response, clearly still asleep. “Sam,” you call his name again, this time giving him a squeeze.
He rouses behind you, stilling for a moment before shoving his hand between your bodies to fist his cock.
“Are you ready for me?” he asks, nipping at the shell of your ear. He might be half asleep, but at the moment he’s running on pure primordial instinct.  
“Yes,” you hiss as he rolls you onto your back, sliding between your legs. He’s already naked and in a swift move so are you, as your nightdress is quickly discarded. There’s enough light to see his red-rimmed eyes, dark and deep as if he hasn’t slept in a week. His pallid, warm and clammy skin rubs against yours.
There’s no lead up to the deed, he just takes himself in his hand, blinking the sweat out of his eyes as he pushes his cock into your channel and slides inside until he can’t get any deeper. His belly is moving against yours as he finds a rhythm right from the start.
This doesn’t feel bad at all. If his rut is just this you’d have gladly offered yourself up long ago. The always challenging stretch of his cock fades into pleasure as the scratch of his pubic hair rubs against your bud with each stroke.
“You’re tight,” he mumbles, closing his eyes in concentration. “So good.”
His hot, open mouth finds yours, kissing you with each breath, tasting and teasing until you’re arching upward into his chest. One hand finds your breast, plucking at a sniff nipple until you’re whimpering into his mouth as his hips meet your inner thighs.
It’s quicker than normal, but you’re right there with him. Your orgasm crests, fluttering around his cock and moaning in delight until you are utterly limp, pinned in bed by the weight of his hips. It’s not long after he cums with a grunt, squeezing your breast in his hand as his knot pops wide and locks the two of you together.
You wish you would have been in unison. When the timing is just right, and you cum around his growing knot, it doesn’t hurt as much. But this isn’t unbearable, more uncomfortable than anything else.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his breath hot at your shoulder, burying his face into the pillow beside you.
“Yes,” you confirm, stroking fingertips up and down his back.
Gripping you tight, he rolls over, letting you lay on his chest. Two great hands cup each of your buttocks as he rolls his hips upward, letting his knot tug inside your tender sex.
“This feels so good,” he groans, allowing the width of him to push and pull, tucked deep. Lunging upward he drags his nose and open mouth along the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and his knot slides further inside and then fights to pull out.
It hurts, but you hold your tongue. You came into this knowing not everything would be enjoyable for you. This is about Sam, and you’re damned and determined to be everything he needs.
“I’m going to put my child in your belly,” he promises, his tongue licking a thick stripe from the hollow of your throat to up under your chin. “Watch you grow big and round with my pups. Do you want that?”
“Yes.” Stifling a cry as he nearly pulls his knot from your cunt with the sheer force of his hips. “Please, just wait,” you sputter, gripping both his biceps and holding on for dear life.
“Will you give me more than one?” He’s lost in his own fantasy now, unable to focus on anything you say. One hand curls lightly around your throat, fingers stroking before squeezing gently. “I’ll give you as many pups as you can bear. Watching you grow thick with my child again and again.”
He’s finally able to full free, his knot hasn’t gone down completely but that doesn’t stop him for promptly fucking you again as if he hasn’t just cum.
“Sam,” you groan, trying to get him to slow down, but it’s as if he can no longer hear you. His head is buried in your neck, mouth sucking at already bruised skin as he forces what’s left of his knot inside your throbbing cunt again and again.
By the time you take his knot for the second time, you’re crying. Fat tears roll down your temples as he forces himself inside you again and finds his completion. When he picks his head up to look at you his eyes are black. His pupils are so big all you can see is the dark abyss of his stare.
He doesn’t see you. He might see a woman that he has an urge to breed, but there is no you. You might as well be a soulless body, willing, open and taking his seed.
After enough time passes he pulls out and falls into a restless sleep for close to an hour.
During this time you take the opportunity to gulp down three mugs of the midwives concoction.
The third time happens quick and fast.
You’re unprepared as he throws you onto your stomach, yanking your hips into the hair and taking you from behind. He’s too deep like this and thrusting much too hard. You’re sure he’s going to break you.
‘Please,” you’re freely begging now. “Please, slow down. Sam, not so fast. Please.”
He simply grunts in response, the ability to speak seems to have deserted him and all that’s left is the shell of the man you naively entrusted not to hurt you.
Everything after a certain point becomes a blur.
The tea is doing very little for the pain but manages to completely subdue you, ensuring you're a prisoner in your own body. You want to scream and fight him. But all you can do is hope you don’t suffocate while you’re face down in the bed with his cock in your belly.
It’s unclear how long it’s been. Maybe only a few hours, but it feels like days. You haven’t opened your eyes for a long time now, afraid of what you’ll find.
The last coherent thought you have is of Dean’s warning. If you survive…
You should have listened.
Sam wanted you beyond reason and now he’s going to do something he’ll never be able to take back. Everything between your legs is in pain and on fire...and then you sink into a wonderful black abyss to be met with the relief of nothingness.
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Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Eight
Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.
Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    
Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Rating: Teen Audiences
Word Count: 29,323
Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)
WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.
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Hizashi took it back. He wasn’t fine, he had never been fine, and he would never be fine again because he worked with children who never listened to a goddamn word he said. No. He couldn’t even call the people he worked with children because he worked with actual children who were interns and they were more competent than what he was dealing with! 
Present Mic was known for his cheerful, upbeat personality and radio show. He was known for jokes, and laughter, and always having a story to share with someone. Yamada Hizashi, when he was at the radio station, however, was known for firm deadlines, good work ethic, and dealing with morons. 
“Explain this to me again.” Hizashi could feel Shouta’s rapidly growing amusement behind him, but he put it out of his mind as he stared down at two of his best sound engineers. One of them, Yamaguchi, was glaring at him and looking completely unrepentant and the other was shaking in his boots. That one might just live. “What do you mean when you say you lost twelve hours of pre-recorded footage.”
“I mean, sir, that we lost twelve hours of pre-recorded footage,” Yamaguchi, the one who would soon be either dead or fired, snapped at him. “In case you forgot, we had a power outage three days ago that left us using a lot of our back-up equipment which, in case you forgot, should have been taken to the dump years ago. We’re lucky we haven’t cut out during a live show before now.” Damn Yamaguchi and everything he stood for. 
“Exactly, the power outage was three days ago. We should be back up and running by this point! Why haven’t we had people in to repair the damage and switched back to the official equipment? Dammit, Yamaguchi, you’re supposed to keep this place from falling apart! That’s the reason you’re the head sound guy!”
Yamaguchi looked him dead in the eyes, not a hint of fear to be seen, “Yasui got to them before I could call in for repairs.” Oh, for fuck’s sake. “While you’re here, I’d like to hand in my resignation-”
“No. Your contract says lifetime for a reason.” Hizashi heard Shouta give a snort of laughter, but firmly tuned it out. “Go call for repairs and schedule them for early in the morning in case anything goes wrong -- and tell Yasui that the repairs are scheduled for the day after so she can’t get in and ‘help’ again.” 
“Yes, sir.” The words were bitter and resentful as all hell, Hizashi narrowing his eyes when the man turned to look at Shouta. “I still know a great divorce lawyer if you need one, Aizawa-san.” With that the bastard was escaping with his little minion before Hizashi could give in to the urge to kill him. 
Shouta, without even batting an eye, gave a shake of his head. “I don’t understand how you two work together when you both hate each other so damn much.” 
“We have an agreement,” Hizashi huffed, hand pushing his glasses up as he rubbed at his eyes for a long moment. His headache hadn’t turned back into a migraine like it had earlier in his agency, but it was still aching.
Shouta noticed, as he always did, squeezing Hizashi’s upper arm softly, “Talk to whoever you need to talk to, and I’ll go grab the papers you need from your office. When I get back, we’re going home.”
“It’s not that bad, anymore, Shouta,” Hizashi sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly, it’s mostly just a headache left, I’m fine.” The choking around his throat lessened and the sensation of leather straps was dulled down to just faint itching. He could talk as needed and in a few hours he knew it would be even better.
No. It really wasn’t that bad anymore, but… Hizashi also knew it still wasn’t good. His smiles never fooled Shouta, after all, and he still felt the memories and whispers clawing at the back of his mind, slipping in during the moments quiet faded for silence.
“If you would just be a little quieter then this never would have had to happen, Hizashi-chan. We told you what would happen, didn’t we?”
“You know we’re just doing what’s best for you and everyone else, don’t you? This is for your own good, Hizashi. We’re trying to keep you safe.” 
“A hero? Hizashi-chan, they’ll never let someone with a quirk like yours become a hero. You have a villain’s quirk, Hizashi-chan. You can’t change that.”
“If you so much as make one more sound-” 
“Hizashi.” Shouta shattered Hizashi’s silence just as he always did, giving him a soft look. “I’ll be back with what you need and then we’re going home. Okay?” 
“Yeah…” Because for as much as he loved the radio station, his office was soundproofed. There was nothing but silence for him there, and while he was physically much better than he had been, there was only so much longer he knew he would be able to stand the whispers. “Yeah, okay. Wouldn’t want to be late if Toshi is making dinner, after all.”
Shouta nodded, giving him a smile and a quick kiss before heading down another hallway, Hizashi watching him leave with a small sigh. He needed to get himself together. Everything he heard was all in the past and it no longer mattered. He was a pro-hero, teacher, and radio DJ who had far too much work to do to linger in the past. 
He still needed to deal with Yasui, now that Yamaguchi had brought it up, actually. Pursing his lips, Hizashi mumbled a soft, “Maybe I can just- Suzuki!” 
Cutting off his thoughts of throwing himself out a window, Hizashi threw himself towards the one, sweet, perfect intern he had in his hellhole of a life. She immediately dodged him and let him hit the wall, expression entirely unimpressed. Hizashi gave her a pout, sidling his way over towards her, “Aw, c’mon, Suzuki-chan, aren’t I your favorite hero?”
The dead look she gave him was far too adorable, truly. She then smiled and, as sweet as it was, Hizashi knew he was about to go through hell. He was right when she held out the clipboard she had been holding, “Alright, favorite hero. Maybe I can get your signature on all of these papers.” 
Hizashi sighed, taking the clipboard and starting to flip through the papers as they walked, wincing at a few of them. “Yeah… Yeah, saw this one coming- How bad is the damage this time?”
“We got another three complaints from parent-teacher groups and another petition making the rounds to get us shut down. It currently has five hundred signatures and started two days ago, so it hasn’t gained much traction. I took over your social media accounts again, though, so we have some positive attention of you interacting with a couple of celebrities and other heroes, some announcements for our new sponsors who haven’t given up on us yet, and also I posted some cat pictures.” 
Hizashi paused at the last one, looking back to Suzuki with a slowly forming frown. “You went through my messages with Shouta again, didn’t you?”
“He always takes the best cat pictures,” Suzuki shrugged, completely unrepentant in her lack of boundaries as she took out her phone and began pulling up multiple apps. “I know the bulk of our main stuff is at night, but we might want to consider adding in some new rotations during the day shows since break is coming up soon. Most of the demographic is high school age, so we’ll get a nice boost where they’ll be able to listen during the day as well as night.”
“This, Suzuki-chan, is why you’re my heir to this radio station,” Hizashi said solemnly, signing off on the last paper he needed to before handing her the clipboard back. “One day, you’ll inherit all of my stress and hatred and die of a heart attack before you reach the age of forty.” 
“Bold of you to assume I can ever die,” Suzuki said seriously, staring at him with the utmost seriousness. He was so glad he had made the kid his personal intern. “You look like shit, you know. Did you even sleep last night?”
“Bold of you to assume I ever sleep,” Hizashi shot back, ignoring the swat to his shoulder. “Just a long day, Suzuki-chan. I’ll be fine after I finish up here and head home.”
Suzuki gave a small huff, shaking her head with a grumble, “Honestly, just stay home next time you feel bad. The station isn’t going to fall apart if you’re gone for one day.” Hizashi stared at her, Suzuki not even flinching as her eyes narrowed. “Are you doubting my abilities to keep this place functional?” 
“Hey, now, I would never say that.” Mostly because, if he did, he knew Suzuki could and would kill him. “Any other disasters or fires that need to be put out before I’m forcibly dragged away by my well-meaning husband?” 
“Oh, Aizawa-san is here? Good. That means you’ll actually go home and get some rest, then.” Suzuki looked back down at her clipboard, flipping through some papers near the back. “Did Yamaguchi tell you about how I’m going to kill Yasui slowly and with great pleasure?”
“Something like that,” Hizashi snorted, shaking his head. “I already have Yamaguchi dealing with the situation. We should be back up and running like normal within the next day or two.”
Suzuki nodded, looking pleased. “Good. That means there’s no other disaster for you to deal with and you can go home and get some rest before you collapse.” With that Suzuki was striding away to no doubt deal with some other disaster, Hizashi giving a small smile that faded when he heard the whispers of memories stir in the back of his head. 
Before Hizashi could get lost in his hopelessness because the words just never stopped, he heard his phone go off with a quiet ding and vibrate against his side. He was tempted to ignore it because, knowing his luck, it was just more stress waiting for him. Another alert had him sighing and giving in, taking his phone out and pleasantly surprised when he saw it wasn’t stress, but messages from Toshinori. 
‘Do you have any preferences for dinner?’ ‘I’ve already started, but I’m happy to put something else on if there’s anything you specifically want.’ God, that man was so perfect. 
‘I’m good with whatever you want to make!’ Hizashi texted back, focused on words that were no longer clawing at the back of his mind. ‘Do I get a hint as to what you’re making for tonight?’
‘It’s a surprise!’ A couple of smiling emojis followed the words, Hizashi not even trying to resist the urge to take a screencap and send it to Nemuri. He never would have thought that All Might, the world’s Number One Hero, was such a lovable goof. ‘How is everything?’
‘We’re at the radio station now. My agency kicked me out to go get some rest and Shouta is grabbing some things from my office before we leave. If I stay any longer I think my sweet intern will kill me herself.’ 
This time there was a row of laughing emojis, Hizashi trying not to give a snort of laughter because, really, it was just so cute. He wasn’t even aware of how distracted he was texting and chatting with Toshinori until Shouta was nudging him to get moving, files clutched under an arm. “Is he overusing emojis again?” 
“I feel like, coming from you, that’s a bit hypocritical.” Hizashi sent one last text to Toshinori before tucking his phone away, accepting the files and sliding them into the bag at his side before Shouta was guiding him along towards the exit. 
Shouta responded with not much more than a hum before he was picking up on whatever he had been telling Hizashi before they had reached the radio station, his words constant and soft as he drowned out every other word in Hizashi’s head. 
Hizashi didn’t even try to stop himself as he squeezed Shouta’s hand as he was nudged and pulled along towards home, the low tone and familiar stories setting him more and more at ease. He had almost forgotten just how much help Shouta was when a bad day came around. It hadn’t even just been Shouta, either. 
While Shouta and Toshinori had been there and supporting him from the moment he woke up, Hizashi realized that everyone in his daily life had found some way to support him and help him out. 
The students at U.A. had noticed how off he was and had worried and fretted over him while trying to be well-behaved and helpful. Shinsou had talked to him in sign language for the whole of his lesson in order to distract him and give him a chance to stop pushing himself. Nemuri had fawned and worried in her own way over lunch, sending him pictures that she knew would cheer him up. 
Hell, even his friends at his agency had been quick to notice something was wrong and tried to help out and make things easier on him. Shima had even got him sent home because she knew, better than he did at least, when he had reached his limits. Even Suzuki had been quick to see that he wasn’t at his best and had done her own form of worrying and sending him home. 
And Hizashi knew his bad days wouldn’t just go away even with all the love and support in his life. He had been having them for decades and he knew he would have them for decades more. He doubted there would ever be a time where he forgot the words carved into him along with the scars that traced his jaw. While it wasn’t okay, it was… bearable. 
It would never be okay, but he would be okay, because he had friends and family who were with him every step of the way and hadn’t once given up on him. He was- “And just what are you thinking about so heavily over there?” 
Blinking at Shouta’s words, Hizashi stared at him for a moment before reaching over to kiss the man’s cheek, enjoying the small smile it earned him. “Me? Not much.” He would be okay. He had a lot of family in his life to keep him going, after all. “Just thinking about what a good day I’m having.”
It wasn’t okay, what he had gone through and what he still went through, but he would be okay. That, at least, was something he knew with absolute certainty. 
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flipfundingstuff · 5 years
Text
The Best Free Resources for Small Business Owners
Starting a business is expensive and entrepreneurs are always looking for ways to save money. Here are some free resources and services that will help you grow as a business and a businessperson.
US Small Business Administration
Some of the best free resources for small business owners in the United States are actually offered by the government–the US Small Business Administration (SBA) has tips, articles, studies, and even granting opportunities. The agency’s business plan worksheets are fantastic for those just starting up or those seeking another round of funding. For those with more experience, the administration offers free business counseling for entrepreneurs at any stage. The granting and loans feature of the SBA should merit special consideration–it is likely your business is eligible for some sort of funding offered by the SBA.
Coursera and Other Free Online Courses
Any entrepreneur will tell you that education never stops, even after you receive an MBA. We live in the age of the MOOC–that is, “massive open online course.” Institutions from MIT to Stanford offer free courses online, and they’re open to anyone. Of course, the classes aren’t typically credited, but the information is often from real professors. Thousands of business courses are available at Coursera, Udacity, edX, and other MOOC platforms. Most courses consist of video lectures and worksheets. Because of the online community aspect of the digital classrooms, you may also find yourself networking with other entrepreneurs across the globe.
Networking and Meetup
No matter what your business, networking is critical. You should seek out gatherings of entrepreneurs–the SBA and your local Chamber of Commerce can be great resources to find out about small business owner happy hours and other get-togethers. An easy online resource for finding ways to meet other entrepreneurs in real life is Meetup–there is likely a whole group dedicated to entrepreneurship in your city. You can even set up your own gatherings through Meetup, Eventbrite, or Facebook.
Google Maps
Having a curated presence on Google Maps is crucial for any physical business. You can edit your business’s contact page through Google–you can insert images and update contact information. It is important that this contact information on your Google Maps page–your phone number, website, and address–is up-to-date. Google Maps also has a Click To Call tool that you want to ensure is accurate. This tool enables users taking advantage of the popular Near Me feature, and it is a way to drive customers to your door who didn’t even know of your existence before looking you up on Google Maps.
Google My Business
Similar to updating your information on Google Maps, you should complete a page on Google My Business. This page ensures that anyone searching for your company receives accurate information. Beyond addresses and phone numbers, you can input your hours and add information like menus. Having a complete Google My Business page can give you an SEO (search engine optimization) advantage–Google ranks websites with complete Google My Business profiles higher in web searches.
Yelp for Businesses
Love it or hate it, Yelp is a force in the small business universe pretty much no matter where you are. The company has options meant to allow participating small businesses to stand out, though. Yelp for Business Owners allows you to highlight good customer reviews, reach out to previous customers, engage new ones, and offer special deals to Yelp users.
WordPress for Websites and Blogs
Even if you don’t consider your business to be a web-based company, it is required to have an online presence. If you don’t have the budget for a web designer right now, a great option is WordPress. It is intuitive to use and the free templates are handsome–it is also a great way to nab a cheap domain name. You can build a simple website for free, and if you want to go a step further, e-commerce and other small business resources are available from WordPress for inexpensive annual fees.  
Gmail
If you already have an email account through Gmail, it might seem too obvious to mention that Gmail is one of the best free resources available for small business owners. It offers 15 gigabytes of free storage and is deeply ingrained with other business features from Google. You can easily label, filter, and prioritize your email inbox, and Gmail allows you to send out pre-written responses to commonly asked questions. For marketing and outreach, you can make lists of your contacts–such as “return customers” or “potential new clients”–and push out your messaging tailored specifically to these lists.
Google Drive for Sharing with a Team
Once your Gmail account is set up, you should take a deep dive into Google’s G Suite options. Google’s Calendar is legendary for its ability to be shared, and Google Hangouts allow you to set up video calls easily. It may seem basic, but Google’s Docs, Sheets, and Slides features are some of the most powerful free business tools out there–they allow you to create documents, spreadsheets, and presentations and then share them with anyone you want. Again, it all comes with 15 gigabytes of free storage.
Doodle for Scheduling
The name is childlike, but Doodle is a free and accessible tool for scheduling. This tool is especially useful if you have a team of, say, busy freelancers who barely have an hour to spare. You can request the availability of the entire team for a few weeks at a time. Even better, the respondents can fill out a Doodle within a few seconds–no sign-ups or logins are required.   
Your State’s Small Business Agency
Along with the SBA, your state government likely has a massive number of free resources for small business owners–your tax dollars at work. Each state has a small business development center, sort of like a miniature SBA. Along with letting business owners figure out what sort of permits or registrations are required, these departments often have educational information or funding opportunities. The SBA has links to these agencies in every state.
SCORE Educational and Mentorship Resources
The nonprofit SCORE has a bunch of resources for small businesses across the country, from online workshops and podcasts to free mentorship opportunities. Especially if you’re a budding entrepreneur, gathering information from the trifecta of the SBA, your state small business agency, and SCORE should be one of your first steps.
BPlans.com for Business Plan Templates
Business planning documents are necessary for several reasons. Any bank or grant opportunity will want to see this paperwork. On a more fundamental level, business planning documents are good for you to see and work through what your company’s future looks like. BPlans.com has a server full of business plan templates, all for free, that span dozens of industries. The website also has other helpful features, like how to develop your elevator pitch.
Crowdfunding Platforms
Depending on the nature of your business, crowdfunding platforms like Kickstarter or Indiegogo can be a great way to start raising capital. You can essentially start selling a product before your inventory is stocked. These platforms are free in the sense that it is free to set up–they will take a fee from the money raised. If your business is more content-based–if you are a blogger, artist, or subscription box creator, for instance–take a peek at Patreon, too.  
Canva for Graphic Design
Especially in this age of websites, graphic design is in high demand. If you don’t have much in your budget, Canva is a free option that is easy-to-use even for the technology-impaired. The service offers templates for digital graphics like Facebook cover images or email graphics, as well as printable options like flyers or posters. Other free graphic design programs include Spaces, which makes creating logos a snap, and Piktochart, fantastic software for creating fetching infographics or flowcharts.
Mailchimp for Email Marketing
Once you’ve created your graphics, you’ll want to send them out to your customers. Mailchimp has terrific free options for small businesses, making email marketing intuitive and beautiful. You can send up to 12,000 emails messages to 2,000 subscribers for free. Mailchimp even offers analytical help–you can check open rates and other data so you can get a handle on what sort of email campaigns work best.
Slack
Slack is now the gold standard for inter-team communications at firms big and small. It is far less unwieldy than group text messaging and allows you to create different channels with different users. You can easily send around pictures, links, and files. Slack is also a secure way to direct message individuals in the team.
Legal Help from Docracy
When it comes to legal matters, you probably shouldn’t be solely focused on saving money. However, if you are just starting out, Docracy is a free resource full of sample contracts and other legal document templates. While you will still probably want to hire an attorney to review everything, it is a good starting place. Docracy allows you to digitally sign and share documents for free, too.
The post The Best Free Resources for Small Business Owners appeared first on Lendio.
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kindar-writes · 7 years
Text
The Reignhearts, an Excerpt
Tiranis is a world of humans and furries, of super science and superpowers, of ordinary people and extraordinary ones.
The Reignhearts are Walter, Richard, and Samuel, three generations of doctors dealing with issues in their social, professional and romantic lives.
This excerpt is about 2000 words of 8000 and introduces Samuel, the youngest of the three as he deals with a patient who has an unusual problem.
If you're interested in resting the rest, and find out more about Samuel, as well as his father, Richard and Grandfather Walter, you can join my Patreon here : https://www.patreon.com/kindar and for only 1$ you'll get to read the entirety of this story, as well as Connors story, which was posted over the previous three months.
The Reignhearts
Samuel lifted the young iguana and gently sat him on the examination bed. The file said his name was Allan Yuri, and that he was twelve years old. His parents had brought him to the emergency room because of persistent stomach aches. They were seated by the door, looking worried.
“How long has it hurt?” the lion asked the young man as he did a visual check of his patient’s eyes and ears.
Allan shrugged. “For a while.” He had his arms over his stomach, and his face was pained.
“He began complaining about his stomach just before lunch,” his father said. He gripped his wife’s hand tightly.
Samuel glanced at the clock, it was four thirty-five. They’d come in just before his shift was about to end. He hadn’t minded. Not only didn’t he have any kind of seniority, being in his first year of residency, but he didn’t want to be one of those doctors who cared more about the use of his time than the care of the patients.
“So Allan has been in pain for close to five hours?”
Allan’s father nodded, and his mother opened her mouth to add something, but a loud gurgle came from their son.
“Oh Lord,” Allan groaned as he bent over. “I’m going to be sick.”
Years of experiences dealing with surprise attacks allowed Samuel to jump out of the way of the fiery vomit Allan expelled. It spread on the floor into a puddle of dancing flames.
He did a quick check of his smock, to make sure none of the splatters had landed on it. He grabbed the fire extinguisher off the side of the cabinet and doused the flames.
Once the flames died away, he looked at Allan, who was looking back at him, horrified. “How do you feel now?” Samuel asked.
Surprise lit his face, and he carefully pressed on his stomach. “Better.” His green skin was still a little pale, but the color was returning.
Samuel went down to one knee and looked at eh clear puddle. He looked up at his patient and smiled. “Well, now we know what’s been upsetting your stomach.”
Allan started sniffling, And the lion stood.
“Hey, it’s okay. This isn’t something to cry about. There isn’t anything wrong with you, you’re just coming into your power.” He pulled the stool closer and sat on it. The bottom of the legs had been blackened by the flames. “Looks like you get the breath fire. That’s pretty cool.”
“It is?” Allan asked, not sounding sure.
“Yes. You know about the Blue Dragon, right?”
The iguana nodded. Every kid knew about him, even if he predated even Samuel. He had been a komodo dragon who’d lived and protected Tiranis back in the early six hundreds. He’d died a few years before Samuel was born.
His estate had sold the rights to his name and image to an animation company, and the show they’d made had become quite popular among kids Allan’s age. They’d set the Dragon’s adventures in the fictional city of New Angeles, where he fought monsters, aliens, sorcerers and others powered people. He fought mainly using martial arts, but he could also breathe fire.
“He’s pretty cool, right?”
Allan nodded and tried to stop a sniffle. Samuel grabbed a few tissue from the box on the shelf and handed them to the young iguana. While he blew his nose, Samuel looked to his parents.
“Is there a history of powers in your family?”
“Not that I know of,” Allan’s father said.
His mother looked uncertain. “My great aunt claimed she could see the future, but no one ever took her seriously.”
Samuel nodded, and some of his mane fell in his eyes. He brushed it aside. It was getting long enough to bother him, but it was still too short for it to stay tied back. He took the elastic off the short tail he’d made of his mane and redid it.
“Alright, Allan. We’re going to test a few things, okay?”
The young iguana nodded.
Samuel took a candle and lit it. He held it between the two of them. “I want you to move your hand close and stop when you start feeling the heat.”
Allan nodded again and moved his hand. He stopped it when it was about a foot away.”
“Now, keep going until it’s too hot, and pull it away.”
Allan made it to three inches from the flame before moving his hand away.
“Yep,” Samuel said, “you’re going to be fire proof.”
Allan’s eyes lit up, and he stared at his hand.
“Are you sure?” his mother asked.
“Pretty much. Every fire based power I know of is also resistant to fire.” Samuel had Allan pull his tongue out, and he studied the inside of his mouth. “Mister Yuri, can you turn off the light?” The examination room became completely dark, which let the lion see the faint red glow at the back of the iguana’s throat. The origin was a little further down his throat. “You can switch them back on.”
“Is Allan going to be okay?” His father asked.
“Yeah, he’ll be okay. If you want, I can schedule a few more tests, as well as a few scans, but I can tell you what they’re going to reveal. Allan is developing a new gland in his throat, probably close to the sphincter between the esophagus and the stomach.” Allan snickered at the word ‘sphincter.’ “It secretes the flammable stuff he threw up. He already had a heat spot, which is why it ignited. That’s a little uncommon. Usually, it forms after the fire breather can control the expulsion of the liquid. It does confirm he’s going to be fire proof, his throat and mouth already are.”
He grabbed the tablet off the desk and typed on it. “The problem right now is that the—” Samuel paused, trying to find another word to use, but couldn’t. “—the sphincter—” Allan snickered again. “—doesn’t fully close right now, and the liquid drips in his stomach.”
“What can we do?”
“There’s nothing that can be done to speed up who it will firm up, and Allan will gain control over it. Until that happens, I’d recommend you buy an aluminum bucket, one with a triple thickness, and keep it handy. Until he does gain control, there will be accidental fire breathing. As he gains control, the stomach issue will go away. Based on what I know, I’d say that within three months everything should be settled, so if he still has an upset stomach problem, come back, and we’ll run a few extra tests.”
Samuel reached back and grabbed the paper the printer spit out and handed it to Allan’s mother. “This is for Allan’s principal. Go with him tomorrow to make sure there isn’t any miscommunication. It basically explains what’s happening to Allan, and that because of it, he will have to leave the classroom at a moment’s notice. He can’t afford to wait for a teacher’s permission. His teachers need to warned. If they hold him up, there could be a repeat of what just happened. I don’t think a classroom full of children will react to it as calmly as we did.”
He turned to Allan and clasped him on the shoulders. “Now, young man, I need you to remember that his power has to be handled responsibly. I know you’re going to be tempted to leave class anytime you want, but if you do, your teachers are going to stop respecting the danger holding you up can cause. It’s your power, so you need to handle it with care. Do you understand?”
Allan nodded enthusiastically.
“Good. Anytime you feel your stomach starting to get upset I want you to go to the bathroom, half fill a sink with water and make yourself throw up in it.”
Allan made a face.
“I know, it isn’t pleasant, but if you do that, you won’t accidentally throw up when there are people around.”
“Doesn’t he risk setting something in the bathroom on fire?”
“That’s why the sink needs to have water in it. The liquid he secretes is heavier, so it’s going to sink, extinguishing the fire. Like I said, it will go away on its own. Then it’ll just be a question of Allan learning how to expel it when he wants.” Samuel stopped, then thought of something. “You’ll want him to practice that outside, and away from anything flammable.”
The lion stood and picked Allan up, depositing him before his parents. He opened the door and held it for them. “Just go to the service desk, they’ll have the insurance papers ready for you to sign.”
As they headed for the counter, a call sounded over the loudspeaker about a heart attack in 209. Samuel ignored it and turned back inside the examination room. One of the on duty trauma teams would answer it. Now that he was off duty, he wasn’t required to respond to general calls, only when he was requested directly.
He grabbed a cotton swab from the dispenser and ran one end in the liquid, then brought it to his nose. The only smells were those of stomach content. No alcohol or benzine type smells. He wondered what the accelerant was.
He placed it in a plastic bag and pocketed it. Next time he was off he’d drop by Rondo’s place, and she could work out the chemical composition, and she could add that to her Powered accelerant collection.
He left the room, and locked it, adding the code to take it out of the rotation. He looked around at the large waiting room. It was half full of people, Furred and human alike, waiting for a doctor to become free. He felt a pang of regret at not staying to see another one, but he’d been warned against overreaching. Exhaustion had killed more than one patient and one doctor’s career.
He went looking for Charlie, and found her next to the radioscopy rooms, scrubbing a strong smelling disinfectant on the hall wall. He waited until she turned and noticed him. Surprising her was not a good idea. She might be a petite human, but she could swing a mean mop, on, in this case, a bucket of detergent. She nodded to him.
“When you have the time, Charlie, there’s a mess to clean up in examination room three. You’ll want to be careful, it’s combustible.”
“You spilled rubbing alcohol?”
“No, I had a kid with emerging power?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks.” He left her and headed for the elevators.
“Doctor Reignheart,” a nurse at the station called, just a group of orderlies and two doctors pulled a gurney toward him and the elevators. Samuel stepped out of their way, all he was of the patient as they entered the already opened doors, was a lot of blood.
“Yes Helen?” she asked when they’d gone by.
“Do you have the time to look at a patient’s file?”
“Is it urgent?” Samuel pressed the call button, and a door opened. “Can it wait until after I’ve looked in on my patient in 308?”
She looked at it. “I suppose it can.”
Samuel stepped into the elevator. “Good, I’ll be back in a few then.”
“Wait!” she called, as the doors closed. “308 isn’t your patient!”
Samuel smiled to himself as the elevator moved up.
0 notes
kindar-life · 7 years
Text
The Reignhearts, An Excerpt
Tiranis is a world of humans and furries, of super science and superpowers, of ordinary people and extraordinary ones.
The Reignhearts are Walter, Richard, and Samuel, three generations of doctors dealing with issues in their social, professional and romantic lives.
This excerpt is about 2000 words of 8000 and introduces Samuel, the youngest of the three as he deals with a patient who has an unusual problem.
If you're interested in resting the rest, and find out more about Samuel, as well as his father, Richard and Grandfather Walter, you can join my Patreon here : https://www.patreon.com/kindar and for only 1$ you'll get to read the entirety of this story, as well as Connors story, which was posted over the previous three months.
The Reignhearts
Samuel lifted the young iguana and gently sat him on the examination bed. The file said his name was Allan Yuri, and that he was twelve years old. His parents had brought him to the emergency room because of persistent stomach aches. They were seated by the door, looking worried.
“How long has it hurt?” the lion asked the young man as he did a visual check of his patient’s eyes and ears.
Allan shrugged. “For a while.” He had his arms over his stomach, and his face was pained.
“He began complaining about his stomach just before lunch,” his father said. He gripped his wife’s hand tightly.
Samuel glanced at the clock, it was four thirty-five. They’d come in just before his shift was about to end. He hadn’t minded. Not only didn’t he have any kind of seniority, being in his first year of residency, but he didn’t want to be one of those doctors who cared more about the use of his time than the care of the patients.
“So Allan has been in pain for close to five hours?”
Allan’s father nodded, and his mother opened her mouth to add something, but a loud gurgle came from their son.
“Oh Lord,” Allan groaned as he bent over. “I’m going to be sick.”
Years of experiences dealing with surprise attacks allowed Samuel to jump out of the way of the fiery vomit Allan expelled. It spread on the floor into a puddle of dancing flames.
He did a quick check of his smock, to make sure none of the splatters had landed on it. He grabbed the fire extinguisher off the side of the cabinet and doused the flames.
Once the flames died away, he looked at Allan, who was looking back at him, horrified. “How do you feel now?” Samuel asked.
Surprise lit his face, and he carefully pressed on his stomach. “Better.” His green skin was still a little pale, but the color was returning.
Samuel went down to one knee and looked at eh clear puddle. He looked up at his patient and smiled. “Well, now we know what’s been upsetting your stomach.”
Allan started sniffling, And the lion stood.
“Hey, it’s okay. This isn’t something to cry about. There isn’t anything wrong with you, you’re just coming into your power.” He pulled the stool closer and sat on it. The bottom of the legs had been blackened by the flames. “Looks like you get the breath fire. That’s pretty cool.”
“It is?” Allan asked, not sounding sure.
“Yes. You know about the Blue Dragon, right?”
The iguana nodded. Every kid knew about him, even if he predated even Samuel. He had been a komodo dragon who’d lived and protected Tiranis back in the early six hundreds. He’d died a few years before Samuel was born.
His estate had sold the rights to his name and image to an animation company, and the show they’d made had become quite popular among kids Allan’s age. They’d set the Dragon’s adventures in the fictional city of New Angeles, where he fought monsters, aliens, sorcerers and others powered people. He fought mainly using martial arts, but he could also breathe fire.
“He’s pretty cool, right?”
Allan nodded and tried to stop a sniffle. Samuel grabbed a few tissue from the box on the shelf and handed them to the young iguana. While he blew his nose, Samuel looked to his parents.
“Is there a history of powers in your family?”
“Not that I know of,” Allan’s father said.
His mother looked uncertain. “My great aunt claimed she could see the future, but no one ever took her seriously.”
Samuel nodded, and some of his mane fell in his eyes. He brushed it aside. It was getting long enough to bother him, but it was still too short for it to stay tied back. He took the elastic off the short tail he’d made of his mane and redid it.
“Alright, Allan. We’re going to test a few things, okay?”
The young iguana nodded.
Samuel took a candle and lit it. He held it between the two of them. “I want you to move your hand close and stop when you start feeling the heat.”
Allan nodded again and moved his hand. He stopped it when it was about a foot away.”
“Now, keep going until it’s too hot, and pull it away.”
Allan made it to three inches from the flame before moving his hand away.
“Yep,” Samuel said, “you’re going to be fire proof.”
Allan’s eyes lit up, and he stared at his hand.
“Are you sure?” his mother asked.
“Pretty much. Every fire based power I know of is also resistant to fire.” Samuel had Allan pull his tongue out, and he studied the inside of his mouth. “Mister Yuri, can you turn off the light?” The examination room became completely dark, which let the lion see the faint red glow at the back of the iguana’s throat. The origin was a little further down his throat. “You can switch them back on.”
“Is Allan going to be okay?” His father asked.
“Yeah, he’ll be okay. If you want, I can schedule a few more tests, as well as a few scans, but I can tell you what they’re going to reveal. Allan is developing a new gland in his throat, probably close to the sphincter between the esophagus and the stomach.” Allan snickered at the word ‘sphincter.’ “It secretes the flammable stuff he threw up. He already had a heat spot, which is why it ignited. That’s a little uncommon. Usually, it forms after the fire breather can control the expulsion of the liquid. It does confirm he’s going to be fire proof, his throat and mouth already are.”
He grabbed the tablet off the desk and typed on it. “The problem right now is that the—” Samuel paused, trying to find another word to use, but couldn’t. “—the sphincter—” Allan snickered again. “—doesn’t fully close right now, and the liquid drips in his stomach.”
“What can we do?”
“There’s nothing that can be done to speed up who it will firm up, and Allan will gain control over it. Until that happens, I’d recommend you buy an aluminum bucket, one with a triple thickness, and keep it handy. Until he does gain control, there will be accidental fire breathing. As he gains control, the stomach issue will go away. Based on what I know, I’d say that within three months everything should be settled, so if he still has an upset stomach problem, come back, and we’ll run a few extra tests.”
Samuel reached back and grabbed the paper the printer spit out and handed it to Allan’s mother. “This is for Allan’s principal. Go with him tomorrow to make sure there isn’t any miscommunication. It basically explains what’s happening to Allan, and that because of it, he will have to leave the classroom at a moment’s notice. He can’t afford to wait for a teacher’s permission. His teachers need to warned. If they hold him up, there could be a repeat of what just happened. I don’t think a classroom full of children will react to it as calmly as we did.”
He turned to Allan and clasped him on the shoulders. “Now, young man, I need you to remember that his power has to be handled responsibly. I know you’re going to be tempted to leave class anytime you want, but if you do, your teachers are going to stop respecting the danger holding you up can cause. It’s your power, so you need to handle it with care. Do you understand?”
Allan nodded enthusiastically.
“Good. Anytime you feel your stomach starting to get upset I want you to go to the bathroom, half fill a sink with water and make yourself throw up in it.”
Allan made a face.
“I know, it isn’t pleasant, but if you do that, you won’t accidentally throw up when there are people around.”
“Doesn’t he risk setting something in the bathroom on fire?”
“That’s why the sink needs to have water in it. The liquid he secretes is heavier, so it’s going to sink, extinguishing the fire. Like I said, it will go away on its own. Then it’ll just be a question of Allan learning how to expel it when he wants.” Samuel stopped, then thought of something. “You’ll want him to practice that outside, and away from anything flammable.”
The lion stood and picked Allan up, depositing him before his parents. He opened the door and held it for them. “Just go to the service desk, they’ll have the insurance papers ready for you to sign.”
As they headed for the counter, a call sounded over the loudspeaker about a heart attack in 209. Samuel ignored it and turned back inside the examination room. One of the on duty trauma teams would answer it. Now that he was off duty, he wasn’t required to respond to general calls, only when he was requested directly.
He grabbed a cotton swab from the dispenser and ran one end in the liquid, then brought it to his nose. The only smells were those of stomach content. No alcohol or benzine type smells. He wondered what the accelerant was.
He placed it in a plastic bag and pocketed it. Next time he was off he’d drop by Rondo’s place, and she could work out the chemical composition, and she could add that to her Powered accelerant collection.
He left the room, and locked it, adding the code to take it out of the rotation. He looked around at the large waiting room. It was half full of people, Furred and human alike, waiting for a doctor to become free. He felt a pang of regret at not staying to see another one, but he’d been warned against overreaching. Exhaustion had killed more than one patient and one doctor’s career.
He went looking for Charlie, and found her next to the radioscopy rooms, scrubbing a strong smelling disinfectant on the hall wall. He waited until she turned and noticed him. Surprising her was not a good idea. She might be a petite human, but she could swing a mean mop, on, in this case, a bucket of detergent. She nodded to him.
“When you have the time, Charlie, there’s a mess to clean up in examination room three. You’ll want to be careful, it’s combustible.”
“You spilled rubbing alcohol?”
“No, I had a kid with emerging power?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks.” He left her and headed for the elevators.
“Doctor Reignheart,” a nurse at the station called, just a group of orderlies and two doctors pulled a gurney toward him and the elevators. Samuel stepped out of their way, all he was of the patient as they entered the already opened doors, was a lot of blood.
“Yes Helen?” she asked when they’d gone by.
“Do you have the time to look at a patient’s file?”
“Is it urgent?” Samuel pressed the call button, and a door opened. “Can it wait until after I’ve looked in on my patient in 308?”
She looked at it. “I suppose it can.”
Samuel stepped into the elevator. “Good, I’ll be back in a few then.”
“Wait!” she called, as the doors closed. “308 isn’t your patient!”
Samuel smiled to himself as the elevator moved up.
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thecleverdame · 4 years
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Gods of Twilight - 13
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Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader
Master List (posting schedule is there as well)
Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.
Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking
Beta:  @ilikaicalie​
*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE
-
The long dining table in the great hall is packed with your esteemed guests and their advisors. Sam is seated at the head of the table with you to his left, and Dean on his right. Katherine is seated next to you, and Luther next to Dean, followed by your parents and then various cohorts and so on.
The first course is a bit awkward as you struggle to make polite conversation, but after a few glasses of wine everyone livens up and the interaction seems to come more easily.
“It’s rather hot in here.” Katherine shifts beside you fanning herself, looking uncomfortable in her own skin. “The fire is blazing.”
You look across the room at the flames licking in the enormous hearth. As far as you’re concerned the castle is always cold. Some days it feels as if you’ll never get warm.
“We’ll have someone open a window,” you offer, raising your finger as a servant girl scurries to your side. “Have that window opened and please bring Queen Katherine a glass of cool water.”
The moment the window is cracked Katherine breathes a sigh of relief and you shiver, forcing a smile. Dean’s been watching the entire interaction and looks at you for a moment before gesturing his glass in your direction.
“If you ate more you wouldn’t so cold all the time,” he observes as you focus on him.
Somewhere along the way you and your brother-in-law found yourself at constant odds. You’ve tried, you really have, but Dean doesn’t care for you and makes no effort to hide his disdain.
“Thank you for that helpful advice.” You glare at him.
“You’re too skinny,” Dean continues, attracting the attention of Luther, who’s been making conversation with Sam.
“She looks fine to me.” Luther grins and out of the corner of your eye, you see his wife cock her head.
“She is fine just as she is,” Sam pipes up, eyes honing in on you. “Leave her alone.”
“It’s alright,” you offer, looking down the table desperate for someone to take the focus from you.
Your mother catches your reaction and smiles, all too pleased to take over the conversation.
“Samuel,” she raises her glass in his direction. “I can’t tell you how grateful my husband and I are that you and our daughter seem to be such a complementary match.”
You’re not sure where this is going, but you don’t care for it one bit. Sam seems to sense your unease, he always does. His hand curls over yours where it rests on the table giving you a gentle squeeze.
“I am lucky to have her.” Your husband offers a grim smile. Sam is generous with his affection behind closed doors, but he’s well aware of his appearance, especially in front of Luther.
“What kind words,” she bats her eyes, flicking from you to Sam. “I know all too well how challenging she can be. It seems you’ve been able to instill a level of expectation and discipline in her that her father never had the stomach for.”
You choke on your wine, covering your mouth as your eyes go wide. Dean lets out a boisterous chuckle before gaining control of his demeanor. Your mother has unwittingly touched on the most divisive aspect of your marriage. Heat rises in your cheeks as you stare at your goblet.
“My apologies,” she smirks, looking around innocently. “Have I touched on a sensitive subject?”
“You’ve no idea-” Dean adds.
“Enough,” Sam intercedes, setting down his drink. “We haven’t heard from you Luther, how are you faring with such a cold winter settling in?”
“It’s awful, isn’t it? Frigid, awful white everywhere. And the villagers always complain, they’re never happy with what we give them.”
“This year it’s the rationing of firewood.” Katherine waves her hand, disgusted. “One would think we don’t give them anything.”
“Rationing firewood?” You’re unsure of what that means. “Why would one ration firewood?”
“Perhaps ration is not the most accurate.”
“They tax the people for cutting down the trees,” Dean interjects. “Isn’t that right? Every log comes at a price.”
“It’s fair recompense,” Luther explains calmly. “The trees belong to me, not to mention the services and protections I offer in exchange. But to hear them tell it, we’re heartless.”
“What do they do if they can’t afford the tax?” you press, feeling your loathing of the man rise into your throat.
“They usually find a way,” he sighs. “They always over dramatize the situation. It’s important not to get caught up in the hysteria.”
“But what of families with children?” You look at Sam, who’s wearing an unreadable stare. “And the elderly? Surely it’s dangerous for them in this kind of cold without easy access to kindling?”
“What a bleeding heart your wife has.” Luther is speaking to Sam but looking at you with a look of pitied amusement on his fat face. “There are always deaths in the winter, it’s part of living in a hard country.”
“Deaths?” You’re horrified, trying to understand why everyone else at the table isn’t as appalled as you are. “That’s utterly unforgivable,” you sputter.
“Oh my,” Katherine chuckles, entertained by your reaction.
“Y/N,” Sam’s hand on yours again. “I think that’s enough-”
“I certainly wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” you spit, looking around the table. You lean forward to see your father, who’s watching you carefully, his eyes darting to Sam to gauge your husband’s reaction to this outburst. It’s a gesture that makes your blood boil.  “Wasn’t it you, dear father, who always told me that the measure of a man is how he treats those most in need?”
“Well, I-” Alexander looks to Luther who’s still in good spirits. “That’s true but-”
“My wife has a soft heart,” Sam intercedes again.
“She certainly speaks freely,” Katherine sits back in her chair, sipping her wine. “I’m surprised you allow such an outburst.”
“An outburst?” You’re really fired up now. “Would you like to see a true outburst-”
“Y/N,” Sam says your name louder his time, his hand curling around your wrist and squeezing hard enough that you sit back, looking to him. “Let’s all take a breath.”
“My wife learned to hold her tongue a long time ago, perhaps you need to-” Luther can’t help himself.
“I do not need advice, Luther.” Sam’s angry now and it’s in large part to you not being able to hold your tongue.
“I’m just saying,” Luther gives you a look from stem to stern before looking to Sam. “If she was my wife, I’d set some expectations.”
“She is not your wife. This is her home and she’s free to share her opinions.” Sam grits back.
There’s an undeniable flutter in your belly to hear him defend you so ardently. You suspect he may not put up such a united front once you’re behind closed doors, but Luther is testing his resolve. He already sees you as Sam’s weak spot and he now knows exactly how to get a rise of him. Sam is quick to jealousy, he can’t control it and Luther has found the trigger.
“Forgive me,” you reign yourself in, taking a deep breath and setting a polite smile across your face. “I had no intention of souring the mood.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Dean chimes in, staring from across the table.
“Let us move on to happier topics, shall we?” Your mother moves the conversation along.
You sit quietly and listen to the chattering going on around you, still seething internally as you watch Luther make a pig of himself. Katherine is no better with her obnoxious laugh and an ongoing list of complaints. First, it was too hot, then it’s too cold, her pudding is much too firm and her wine not sweet enough. You suffer through course after course as the minutes turn into hours. Everyone is a bit drunk by the time the final round of spirits arrive and you want nothing more than to retreat back to your chambers.
“...and that’s how I knew she was married!” Dean finishes his story and the entire hall erupts in laughter. His tales never disappoint and expertly walk the line of humor and impropriety. He does have a way with people, you’ll give him that. Sam’s brother is an expert in disarming and charming nearly everyone, save for you.
Looking to Sam you find him fixed on Luther, his face blank as he’s lost in thought.
Behind closed doors, you’ve found Sam to be a gentle, patient man. He’s a combination of attributes that you would have never imagined could exist in one person. His sometimes gruff exterior and brooding demeanor are offset by a soft touch and his willingness to listen to you with genuine interest. He’s both gentle and fierce when need be, so it’s easy for you to forget that the husband you know intimately is not the same man that he presents to the world. He takes his position seriously, he considers his role as a commitment to the people he rules over.
“Alexander,” Sam speaks up and the entire room falls silent. “Tell me, have you ever had occasion to deal with poachers?”
Luther sits back, looking around the table as if he’s looking forward to another wild tale.
“Yes,” your father nods thoughtfully. “Some years ago, when Y/N was just a child we dealt with bands of men coming into our lands from Westfort.”
“Ah,” Sam nods, setting his wine on the table. “Hunters?”
“Fisherman. They would row across the channel and up in the estuary. They nearly fished us dry one summer.” Looking to Sam your father is not sure where this is going but you have no doubt as you glance up to catch Dean’s eye.
“And what action did you take?” Sam presses on, resting his forearm on the table.
“At first we issued warnings. I spoke with King Harold and we came to an agreement.”
“Will you share with us? I’m in need of new ideas.”
“Of course,” your father has really perked up now, always thrilled to contribute. “Harold announced to his people that the infraction would come with a severe penalty. That worked for a time, then he gave me the autonomy to dole out consequences as I saw fit. Some of the men coming to fish did it to feed their families, we just ran them off, gave them a good scare. But the men who came to poach and sell for profit? They ended up in the stocks when we could catch them.”
“I see.” Sam thinks on this for a moment. “Perhaps you could help me with my problem?”
“It would be my pleasure,” Alexander smiles softly from your husband to you.
“Luther’s men have been poaching wolves from our land. Encroaching further and further-”
“Now just one moment!” Luther cuts him off. “I don’t think this is-”
“It’s not just animals, there have been murders.”
“The culprits remain unverifiable!” Luther contends, thrusting a finger toward Sam.
“Ay, there is no way to be sure,” Katherine shrugs beside you, looking unphased despite everything going on around her.
“Let us not play, we both know they are your men!” Sam shouts, his fist coming down with a mighty bang that rattles the table. “I’m trying to be civil about this, but my patience is wearing thin.”
“I’m not entirely sure I like your tone,” Luther cocks a brow, it’s the first look of genuine annoyance you’ve seen from him.
“Good. I need you to understand how serious this is.”
“Your precious wolves,” Luther waves his hand dismissively and Katherine chuckles. Your mother remains silent and your father tries to keep the peace.
“Perhaps we could sit down later and talk about this.”
“We have talked, and then we talked more. Talking has gotten us nowhere.” Sam's eyes are on fire, boring holes into Luther. His reaction seems disproportionate, leading you to believe that there’s more to the story than he’s shared with you.
“Dean,” Luther turns to the eldest son. “You need to talk some sense into your brother. This is not the way to make friends.”
“Enough!” Sam shouts again, standing with both hands on the table as he leans in. “My brother isn’t the one you should be worried about appeasing. If you refuse to handle this, I will. I’m ordering any man not a citizen of Lebanon to be shot on sight.”
“Sam,” Dean starts but one look from his brother and he falls silent.  
“That’s a bit of an overreaction don’t you think?” Luther tips his head, remaining calm and collected.
“We’ll find out.” Sam looks down the table at the rest of your guests, glancing at your father. “Please stay, eat and drink until you’ve had your fill. I’m retiring for the night.”
Sam looks to you and you get up, smiling weakly. “Goodnight.”
--
“The man is a tyrant!” Sam mutters, pacing back and forth in your chambers.
“I am so sorry. I think I’m the one who set the tone for the night.” You sigh. “But I couldn’t hold my tongue. He’s such an awful man I don’t think it’s acceptable for everyone to act like that. Even if the things he does are-”
“I’m not upset with you,” Sam steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You once told me that you were afraid that being married to me meant that you’d be seen but never heard. That couldn’t be further from the truth. While it wasn’t the best time to express your displeasure, I won’t ever silence you. At least not on matters of ethics and compassion. You are entitled to an opinion as much as anyone.”
You sigh, smiling up at him in relief.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I agree with your brother. Luther doesn’t serve to live.”
“You think I should have him killed?” He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for such extremes.”
“By allowing Luther to live, others will die, innocent people.” You can feel the anger returning. “He’s a bad man.”
“Yes, he is,” Sam cups your face, examining thoughtfully as if the physical contact calms him. “I’m going to take care of him, one way or the other.”
You’re not sure what that means but you don’t ask for clarification. Everything surrounding Luther is unsavory and you wish to forget about him.
“I was so looking forward to tonight and now I wish I could erase it from my memory.” You confess.
“I might be able to help with that,” he chuckles, the hand on your face sliding down your neck, his thumbs pressing lightly at the side of your throat.
“You’re staying with me tonight?” You’re genuinely surprised. “You were so upset. I thought you would want to go with Dean, run under the moon.”
“No, not tonight,” his thumbs stroke the soft skin under your ear. “Tonight I want you.”
“Well,” you smile, standing on your toes to get closer, whispering, “you better have me then.”
He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. It always starts as a simple kiss, blossoming into something deeper as his arms wrap around to pull you close. After several minutes he pulls away, breathless, eyes shining as he looks over your face.
“Turn around,” he commands and you spin, allowing him to take your dress off, then pulling the shift over your head leaving you stark naked. He presses against your back and your eyes flutter shut as he leans down to kiss your shoulder.
One of his hands cups your breast, squeezing gently as his other hand sweeps over your belly, finding its way between your legs. Two fingers curl into your wet flesh, dipping inside then up to find your clit with a soft touch. You moan, arching back against him as his touch grows more insistent.
“Will you let me knot you?” he murmurs, nipping right below your ear.
He’s only done it a few times over the last month. While you’ve certainly been intimate on a nightly basis, he understands that you’re not capable of taking his knot too frequently. So he waits, giving your body time to heal. And he always asks permission.
“Yes,” you gasp, nodding as his fingers slip downward, scooping into your cunt as the heel of his hand presses over your bud.
“You’re already wet for me,” he observes, fingers pushing deeper, opening inside you. Whimpering you rock forward, head lolling back against his chest.
“You have quite an effect on me,” you whisper.
“Get on the bed,” he instructs placing a kiss at your temple before playfully swatting your backside.
You crawl to the bed, sitting in the middle on the blanket to watch him undress, then happily lying back, welcoming him between your legs. He prefers to start like this, his weight pinning you in place while he fucks you slow and even. Tonight is no exception as he fists his cock, lining himself up and thrusting in to the root.
“God,” you gasp, clutching at his shoulder as he moves inside you.
His hands are everywhere, holding your leg over his hips, grabbing your breast, stroking your hair. And his kisses are just as all-consuming, his thick tongue sliding deep to silence your moans.
The thrusting of his hips grows faster and then he stops, placing a kiss between your breasts before pulling out.
“Roll over,” he instructs, one hand stroking his wet cock.
You’ve come to know this position well. Once on your hands and knees, you feel him nudge between your calves, then a hand between your thighs smacking them wider. With one hand at your lower back, he presses inside, stroking deeper than before. This part is almost more challenging than what comes next. In this position, he can bury himself right up to your womb.
One of his hands curls under your belly in search of your bud, which means he’s getting close. Right on cue, you feel the thick ring of muscle around the base of his cock swell, fighting to get inside you again and again. His finger moves harder, grunting with each stroke of his hips.
Two fingers gently press together over your clit and you cum, writhing on his cock as he holds himself inside. His knot pops and he yelps in pleasure, rutting into your backside again and again.
You cry out, open hands curling into the bed, holding on for dear life. You breathe through the pain, deep lung fulls to stay calm. It’s not nearly as bad as the first time, you don’t cry anymore. Now that you know what to expect you just close your eyes and try to think about how this could be the time that he puts his child in your belly.
His timing has gotten better, your pleasure takes away from the shock of it all, leaving only the dull, uncomfortable ache of him inside you.
“My God,” he groans. His heavy, sweating body curls over your back, knot tugging inside you.
“Careful,” you hiss, reaching behind you to grab his hip.
“I’m sorry,” he’s still panting, wrapping both arms around your stomach as he moves the pair of you onto your side. “Did it hurt?”
“It gets easier each time,” you explain, wiggling back into him. “I don’t mind this part.”
“No?” He nips at your earlobe, grabbing your breast again. “There is nothing better than feeling you around my knot.”
“I wish I could do this for you every time.”
“That is something we need to talk about.” He nuzzles behind your ear. “Perhaps now is not the best time but you should know my rut is coming.”
“Oh,” you turn your head trying to see him. There’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach, as you wiggle with his knot still firmly lodged inside your cunt. “What does that mean? When?”
“Soon. A week or two,” he explains, rubbing his nose into the hair at the back of your head.
“And you’ll stay with me this time?” You ask hesitantly.
“That is something we need to decide together.”
“What alternative is there?” You're growing increasingly uncomfortable, feeling the ache bloom between your legs. He’s silent but you already know the answer. The alternative is Ruby. “I want you to stay with me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers as his hand strokes up the outside of your thigh.
“You won’t. You never hurt me.”
“That’s not true. You’re in pain right now, you’re just not vocalizing it.” he retorts, shifting behind you.
“How do you know that?”
“I can hear your heart speed up. I can smell it on you, like fear,” he explains. His knot is lessening, and he gently tugs it from your body, rolling you onto your back so he can look you in the eye. “You can barely walk after we’re together once. I’ll need this again and again.”
“Then you can have me again and again,” you insist, searching his expression for understanding. “I couldn’t bear it if you were with her. Not after all this.”
“I know,” his mouth twists in displeasure, dipping down for a kiss. “Don’t be upset. We’ll find a way.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.”  
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