#August From Mpreg

[bellybiologist]

The 1st place winner from August 2021! Mpreg sequence of Benny Weir from My Baby Sitter's a Vampire. The month's theme was exhibition, and the context here was he kept forgetting to turn off his streams.

This one got a good reception iirc.

The rest of the fills are up on the drive already! so go there if you dont want to wait for me to upload these.

[gargoyleandgremlinpress]

There's No Such Thing in the World (As An Undo Button) by Zulu

Before there was omegaverse, there was mpreg, a trope where a male character finds themselves pregnant through whatever means, often with some hand-wavey fanfic magic. This chonky little quarto fic is rarepair mpreg crackfic for the early 2000's medical drama House MD, with the pairing of House/Foreman.

Here we have the copy I made @zulufic, and the one I made for myself, fraternal copies due to limited materials in the same pattern. (I did not think I'd ever find a use for the bits of baby quilt patterned fabric in the fabric scraps I got from a coworker a few years ago, but lo and behold...)

So, this started out as a Christmas present for @zulufic. Come time for the exchange of gifts, I presented her with... a textblock! I had the pages printed and sewn, but not cased in. Eventually, it gained a hardcover case and became a finished book, but circumstances lined up just right such that I would be seeing her in August and able to put the book in her hands right within a few days of Fanfic Writers' Appreciation Day, and participate in @renegadeguild's annual initiative to gift an author with their book for the day.

The lettering on the case is acrylic paint, applied with a Cricut-cut stencil. Hand-sewn endbands, decorated edges just for fun. One book has gelli-plate printed endpapers from my wife's art stash, the other has some Japanese paper of unknown provenance out of my paper stash.

This is the fic that sat on my to-bind list labelled "I like them all, she says unhelpfully," due to a stealth conversation with Zulu's wife to attempt to find her favourite fic. (The answer: whatever fic she's currently working on.) So I picked one I remember fondly from when it was first posted. Things that never made it into the author's notes and only obliquely into the AO3 tags: Zulu says this is actually an AU of the move Knocked Up.

I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, and I'm glad I decided to do it as a half-sized quarto. A cute little chonk of a book for a cute (if delightfully cracktastic story! Happy Fanfic Writers' Appreciation Day, Zulu!

[1dsoulmatefest]

1D Soulmate Fic Fest Round Two - Sign Ups Now Closed

“I used to believe in one true soulmate, but not anymore. I believe you can have a few.” — Paul Walker

Hi lovely people. We loved the fics posted for Round One and are coming back for Round Two! We've also included our prompt submissions list from Round One at the bottom of this post.

Our new and updated Rules and Guidelines:

There is no minimum or maximum word count requirement.

Fics must be completed when posted to AO3. No WIPs.

This fest is not anonymous. Feel free to post snippets or teasers. (Make sure to tag @1dsoulmatefest )

As this is a One Direction fest, one of the members must be included in the main pairing.

Pairings do not need to be romantic. They can be platonic or simply sexual.

There will be no restriction on the writing of explicit, sensitive, or potentially triggering content, though this must be tagged appropriately.

All AUs are allowed such as omegaverse, Mpreg, girl direction, etc. as long as soulmates are the main focus. Any variation of soulmate AUs are allowed.

In the name of community we strongly discourage the use of AI images. We gladly help you find an artist to work with you on your moodboard or any fic related graphics.

Please make sure to check your emails regularly, especially when it comes to check ins. We will send one follow up email if there is no response, but we will have to assume you've dropped out of the fest otherwise.

Our Round Two Schedule will be as follows:

Prompt Submissions Open: 23rd July 2024

Sign Ups Open: 1st August 2024

Prompt Submissions Close: 31st August 2024

Sign Ups Close: 31st August 2024 NEW DATE! 1st November 2024

First Author Check In: 1st November 2024

Second Author Check In: 4th January 2025

Due Date: 25th January 2025

Misc:

Our email address is 1dsoulmatefest@gmail.com

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to get in touch.

Prompt Submissions List

Sign Up Form

Submit A Prompt

🌸🌷🌸🌷🌸🌷

🌷 1D Soulmate Fest 2023/24 Masterlist🌷

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the September round up of all my favorite fics i read this month!!

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, is incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March April May June July August

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

without further ado, let's go!

Marriage of Inconvenience by FragileTeacup

Word Count: 3563 Summary: When Will Graham hears that Hannibal Lecter has been threatened with deportation, he's far more dismayed than he ever thought he would be. But a flippant suggestion from Brian Zeller gives him an idea...

GREEN CARD FAKE MARRIAGE YES PLEASE.

Nakama by FragileTeacup

Word Count: 55656 Summary: Hannibal Lecter is handsome, clever, rich, Omegan... and quite oblivious to the fact that he is hopelessly in love with his brusque Alpha mentor, Will. Will Graham has always looked out for Hannibal, occasionally despairing of his young protégé's spoiled nature but valuing his companionship just the same. They are the best of friends. But when Hannibal finds himself in the grip of a late first heat, both men are forced to confront feelings which neither are prepared for... Nakama, a Regency A/B/O romance based on Emma by Jane Austen. Featuring beautiful art by the wonderful beatricenius!

I really enjoyed reading this, but also I love omega Hannibal and the angst in this was just *chefs kiss*

Peaches and Cream by The_Gemini_Dragon

Word Count: 5757 Summary: Hannibal picks up one of the jars, turning it over in his hands. He hasn't expected Will to can his own food. He pops the lid open, and knows immediately what it is. A sharp, sweet scent reaches his nose, as well as a whiff of alcohol.He dips his fingers into the jar and brings the peach slice to his mouth.

Drunk Hannibal really scratches an itch in my brain, especially when it leads to excellent sex :))))

Time Reversed by teacupsandtime

Word Count: 25,474 Summary: Hannibal and Will traverse an unexpected intimate development.

Heads up, this is mpreg. But it was very sweet and tender and made me very happy!

Depraved by sourweather

Word Count: 5891 Summary: Will was raised to think that certain things were wrong. Dirty, shameful. Even years later, there are certain lines that he can't seem to cross.For example, he's never been able to handle the idea of anything going in his ass.

y'all wanted to know what some of my most re-read fics are, this is certainly one of them LOL

shame by YouAreMyDesign

Word Count: 3240 Summary: Hannibal smiles, and goes to the contacts in Will's phone. Under the name 'Daddy', his phone has apparently grouped two phone numbers. The first is Hannibal's cell. The second has a Louisiana area code.

*fans self* hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha obsessed.

spider by YouAreMyDesign

Word Count: 3991 Summary: Hannibal likes his kills clean. Will likes them messy.

beware the tags, heavy on the "dead dove do not eat" but wow this was beyond enjoyable! felt very in character for them!

Sweet Tooth by HigherMagic

Word Count: 81017 Summary: He has prepared for this, of course. No self-respecting Omega of his stature and skill would deign to let themselves be taken by surprise. Although, again, he has not expected his final heat to approach for some time, it is one of those occurrences people prepare for like Doomsday. He has plans, and bags packed, and knows what he will need to do, to make sure he makes it through the ordeal with minimal discomfort. The first step will be to hunt, to stock his fridge and his stores so he will not go hungry. The second step will be to find a suitable companion.

another one that i've reread several times, whoops.

Look, Mother! The Sheep Have Devoured the Wolves! by HigherMagic

Word Count: 102934 Summary: Hannibal and Bedelia are married, but unable to have children. At Margot's insistence, Hannibal agrees to meet the Omega that was a surrogate for her and Alana. Will is rough-edged, unrefined, and everything Hannibal shouldn't desire. This arrangement promises to be clean, and simple. Of course, nothing concerning Will Graham is ever simple.

THIS WAS SO GOOD. not gonna lie, almost didn't pick it up because of Hannibal being married to Bedelia, but it works!!!

Love in the time of cannibals by ToxicWitchling

Word Count: 69658 Summary: Franklyn has noticed Dr Lecter's favoritism with another patient. It started small; frequent appointments, hushed conversations and light touches. However, Franklyn draws the line at the recent extravagant gifts the Doctor seems to be bestowing on a scruffy fisherman from Wolf Trap. He realizes he may be more interested in the good Doctor than he first knew and begins to find out as much as possible about this Will Graham, if not to stop him toying with the Doctor's affections, then to learn where the attractions lies and steal it for himself.AKA. Franklyn notices Will is a sugar baby before Will does, gets jealous, and wants that lifestyle.

amazing. loved. love.

act on it by acheforhim

Word Count: 9142 Summary: “I work a lot. Don’t really have the time to find an alpha who won’t look down on me for…” “For wanting to be an omega?” “Basically, yeah.” — Will is lonely and his long-distance fuckbuddy encourages him to pursue Hannibal.

AHHH THIS WAS SO FUCKING HOT WHAT THE HELL. I HAD TO TAKE A BREAK TO MAKE SURE I WAS BREATHING.

An Ounce of Wit by Winddrag0n

Word Count: 69420 Summary: “It’s heavier than I expected. Anyways, here.” She walks in front of Will, and in her hands she is holding a long, furry snake. It’s white on the bottom, the top a dirty grey, with dark, blurry rosettes sprinkled along its length. “Where did you get that?” Will asks quietly, his brain rejecting the fact that it feels like a part of him.“It’s attached to your ass, dude. You have a fucking tail.”--AKA a modern magical AU where the entire point is to turn Will Graham into a catboy.

I didn't expect to like catboy Will Graham and then I read this and it was actually really well done!

Wildfire by Winddrag0n

Word Count: 4266 Summary: “I’m so sick of this,” Will bites out. “All your bullshit. Whatever this stupid fucking game we’re playing is.” He approaches Hannibal, palms open, showing he is unarmed. “You manipulate me for the better part of a year, send me to prison, and when I finally embrace this ‘inner darkness’ you’re always on about, you know what happens?” He jabs a finger out, pressing it harshly into Hannibal’s chest. “You don’t even have the fucking decency to die.” Will finds himself at a rave, and emerges a person with far less patience than before.

yeah, i have no words. so fucking good.

Still With Me by Winddrag0n

Word Count: 4271 Summary: There is, inexplicably, a coat check, which Will uses. He does not pocket the ticket, simply leaves it on a stool near the door, knowing Hannibal will grab it for him. While Hannibal is fast and assured in his movements, this is Will’s territory, and he easily slips a safe distance away with plenty of time to see Hannibal’s entrance. He catches the man in question putting the paper safely away with a small shake of his head, and then he’s looking up, taking in the room around him. A shiver runs down Will’s spine, because he did not realize Hannibal would actually make an effort to blend in. His hair holds no treatment, falling softly across his forehead, and he is dressed in dark grey slacks with a matching black button-up, undone partway down his chest. Most of all, in his eyes, where Will had expected to see some form of rejection, he only sees curiosity.Will turns away, towards the main floor. This point of this was to let go, not dwell on things, and he closes his eyes and lets it happen. Will makes a habit of going out to clubs, and one night Hannibal follows.

hey if you enjoyed my public sex prompt for kinktober, this might be a fun one!

3y3s by Winddrag0n

Word Count: 4866 Summary: Pain, bright and wide across his face as Will feels his head jerk to the side. It’s only when he turns back, sees the cold look in Hannibal’s eyes as he pulls his hand back, that he realizes Hannibal has just slapped him. “I will not apologize,” he says, words clipped. “You were out of line.”“Good,” Will grins, an electric energy shooting through his veins, “because I’m not going to apologize for this either.” He lunges forward, uses fists where the other man had used his open hand, and punches Hannibal square in the jaw. Trouble in paradise.

fighting as sex and sex as fighting?? *drools*

let's hate what our love makes us do by hannigramized

Word Count: 22250 Summary: Hannibal Lecter's patient, Franklyn Froideveaux, has been making unwanted advances towards Hannibal. Hannibal enlists the help of Will Graham to get Franklyn to back off. And because he may be kind of in love with Will. Takes place during Season 1, mostly Episodes Sorbet&Fromage

Fake dating is the best kind of dating! I love when they're oblivious and don't realize that they're actually in love.

Single All the Way by venus_in_bloom

Word Count: 34740 Summary: Will Graham has everything; a successful career, a loving father, a stable job. All he is missing is someone to share it with. When his dad insists he brings someone special, all thoughts go to his friend and weekly dinner companion Hannibal Lecter. A plan is hatched when Hannibal proposes that Will introduces him as his partner. Can visiting his roots help Will and Hannibal to finally take the leap and lay some roots of their own? Can Will resist the elusive doctor’s charms? Does he really want to? Inspired by the Netflix movie, Single All the Way!

Fluffy, cozy holiday fic that was actually perfect.

aaaaaand that's a wrap for September!!! have fun babes <3

[cakerybakery]

Okay. I picked the top 14 stories I have with stuff written or ideas most formed, including the request from Inubaki and an Anon for an mpreg.

Then I picked the top seven of those and from there I picked the top three I’m closest to being done.

“What the King Wants” I have not mentioned this one before. It was a one shot that, as per tradition, got wildly out of hand and smuttier than I originally intended. I’ve scheduled myself to work on it tomorrow as my writing for the day.

“Shampoo” I have been working on chapter three for awhile and that’s the final chapter so I’m working on that August 28.

“One Last Plan” still has a couple plot points to go and of the top three is the least likely to get done this round. But it’s also clogging up my drafts. So it’s scheduled for Aug 29.

“The Stork” is still a ways from being completed but I’ll work on it Aug 30.

@inubaki I’ve scheduled to start the request on Aug 31. I’ve got the shape of it I think, but it does feel like a longer one.

Anon request for Mpreg I’ve scheduled for Sept 1st. Not sure what I’ll do just yet but I’m hoping to keep it a one shot

“Banned from Board Game night” I’ve scheduled for sept 2nd. I need to go look in my board game cupboard cause I want to do a couple more before I write what happened at Poker with Angel.

Then I’ll cycle through these seven until I complete something. Then I’ll add Childish Behaviour onto the docket. Then Ready?, then Gal Pals to finish off the Consent series for good. The Punishment. And the three untitled projects. One is a secret project that will be posted on a very specific date. Then the Adam is Mute or Adam is Charlie’s bio mom stories.

As I move through those I’ll start with the others like the honey pot, the hunt, barstool, lost bets, meeting myself, three wives, After Eden, an untitled I named Cave People but it’s not accurate I just kept forgetting what was in that one. Oh the college AU, plus a bunch of random lines I never got to work on.

Of course there’s the Adamsapple month coming up and I’d like to participate in that.

I feel less overwhelmed now. Not sure if I’ll stick to it. But I’d much rather try an focus and complete the projects I want than let myself keep chasing after these little plot bunnies. I do have a couple fiddle stories for that. Stuff I doubt I’ll ever post, but I enjoy jumping around in the story and doing and not really caring if there are plot holes.

If you send a request, they won’t be done until at least the previous Anon request is done.

[zzoomacroom]

Rain Is Coming Down, but the Clouds Will Surely Pass (Chapter 5)

✨✨✨✨✨

Dreamling, Retired Dream, Multi-chapter, Mpreg, Fluff, Smut, Angst

(Start from chapter 1 here)

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 5/12 (~6700 words)

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional tags: Retired Dream, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Trans Dream, Fluff, Smut, Angst

✨✨✨✨✨

Chapter 5: 26 Weeks

Today they have a rendezvous with Death.

Hob goes through his mental checklist: he’s put the kettle on and washed the nice cups—the ones for company—and the apple crumble he nabbed from the pub is warming in the oven. He fiddles with the charcuterie board he’s cobbled together, rearranging the cheeses, grapes, and little dishes of olives for the dozenth time this afternoon. He stands back to survey his work, then checks his watch. Almost time. It’ll have to do.

He’s got nothing to be nervous about, really. He’s always happy to see his sister-in-law, despite his aversion to her function, and he knows there’s no need to try and impress her (not that he’s put together a particularly impressive spread, although he hopes it comes across at least somewhat classy). Whatever news or offers she may have regarding their child’s mortality, she’ll let them know regardless of which cup her tea is served in. Even so, his stomach has been roiling all day, and he suspects the prickles of sweat on the back of his neck can’t be blamed on the fact that he’s got the oven on in this suffocating August heat.

He triple-checks that he flicked the kettle on and wipes his damp palms on a tea towel before making his way down the hall. He breathes a sigh of relief at the immediate drop in temperature as he steps into their newly air-conditioned bedroom, where he’s greeted with the sight of his husband frowning at the full-length mirror and fussing with the hem of his shirt. Hob meets his eyes in the reflection as he settles behind him, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Morpheus is wearing all black today, he notices. Hob isn’t sure what to make of that, or if there’s anything to make of it at all. It’s not his old uniform of skinny jeans, dramatic coat, and Doc Martens, but he still cuts a striking figure in his soft black joggers and flowy tunic accented with abstract splashes of gold and silver.

“Hey there, handsome,” Hob smiles. “All set?”

(Continue reading below or on ao3)

Morpheus gulps and nods. “Yes. I believe so.”

He’s looking more than a bit peaky, and under any other circumstances Hob would suggest they cancel their plans, even at the risk of suffering the wrathful pout Morpheus would no doubt inflict upon him for daring to presume any weakness in his constitution. But this is important, and they’ve already put it off long enough. This will be Morpheus’ first time seeing his sister since last Christmas; Death keeps a very busy schedule, and Morpheus has been reluctant to call on her for reasons that Hob mostly understands, though he may not fully agree with all of them.

“It’s going to be fine, love. I know it will,” Hob says, stroking and cradling his husband’s belly in an attempt to reassure them both. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together, eh?”

Morpheus nods again, sighs resolutely, and shuffles to the chest of drawers where he keeps his makeshift “gallery,” which consists of an ornate antique jewelry box filled with an array of trinkets they picked up at a flea market. The whole thing is adorable, in Hob’s opinion. There’s a tiny leather-bound notebook, a silver ankh pendant, a tarnished gold heart-shaped locket that neither of them ever managed to open, a single earring with a stylized fish hook, and a large glass marble swirled with a psychedelic rainbow of clashing day-glo colors. No need for Dream’s sigil (where would they even find anything like it?) as Morpheus is a natural lucid dreamer and could easily contact Daniel if he ever needed to. Not that he often calls on any of them, but Hob knows that he feels more secure having the option.

Morpheus removes the ankh from the box and sets it on top of the chest of drawers, staring intently at it as he drums his fingers on the wooden surface. Not quite ready then, evidently. Hob stills his restless fingers by taking his hand—he’s shaking, poor darling—and wrapping him in a hug, gently rocking them from side to side.

He may try to hide it, but it’s obvious to Hob that Morpheus is a nervous wreck. His morning sickness has lasted well into the afternoon, and he’s been hovering restlessly around the flat all day—fidgeting, tidying this and rearranging that, checking his hair every ten minutes, and so on. He’s afraid. Hob empathizes; they’re finally getting an answer to the question that’s been hanging over them for months. What if it’s not the answer they want to hear?

But besides that, Morpheus is apparently worried that Death will scold him or generally disapprove of his recent life choices. It’s quite sweet, really, the way he holds his sister in such high esteem. And it’s understandable; Death is absolutely lovely—when he finally met her for the first time, Hob had been pleasantly surprised to find that he liked her right away. Even more shockingly, she liked him too, despite all the things he’s said about her over the years. He’d felt like a right tit apologizing for calling her stupid, but she’d only laughed and told him he had been forgiven the moment he made her brother smile.

So Hob doesn’t quite share his husband’s fear; he can’t imagine that Death will be anything but happy for them. Morpheus firmly believes he’s done some great wrong just by living his bloody life—the same life his sister enthusiastically bestowed on him specifically so he could finally live after countless lonely, miserable eons of being slowly crushed under the weight of his duties. It’s like—what’s that thing his students are always saying? Like he’s trying to get a good grade in being human, something that’s both normal to want and possible to achieve.

It doesn’t matter whether or not Morpheus’ fear is rational, though. Either way, it’s clearly eating him up inside; he’s so tense, the muscles in his back taut and rigid, unwilling to be soothed as Hob runs his hands up and down his spine. “I can’t do this,” he mumbles into Hob’s neck.

“Oh, sweetheart. You can. I know you can,” Hob whispers, bringing one hand up to the back of his head and caressing his silken hair. “My strong, brave, beautiful husband. You’ve got this, dove.”

Hob pulls back just enough to give Morpheus the most encouraging smile he can muster, although it’s probably not all that convincing. Even if he’s not anticipating a dressing-down from Death, Hob can’t help but be a bit wary of her. As much as he likes Death the Person, his distaste for Death the Actual Thing is so deeply ingrained as to be instinctual, and he’s always a little on edge before her visits. And then there’s that thought he’s been trying in vain to bury for the past four months, clawing its way to the surface once more.

What if the baby is mortal? What if they have to bury another child someday?

Well. They’ll find out, won’t they? Better to rip the band-aid off now. Hob presses himself against his husband and breathes deeply, encouraging him to do the same. “Breathe with me, love. That’s it. I’ve got you, darling. Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”

Morpheus heaves a shuddering breath before extricating himself from Hob’s embrace and picking up the ankh again. “Sister,” he murmurs, his lips barely moving. “I hold your sigil—”

His invocation is interrupted by a deafening whoosh of wind followed by a flurry of wings, like a bevy of doves startled into sudden flight.

“I’m here!” a cheery voice calls out from the sitting room.

Morpheus gives Hob a pleading look, and Hob strokes his trembling shoulders with sweaty palms. “I’ve got you,” he repeats, leaning in to kiss the deep furrow between his husband’s brows.

There’s a noise from behind them—a faint huff of laughter followed by a tiny “aww.” Hob turns to see a kind face surrounded by a profusion of sable curls peeking through the bedroom door.

“Will you lovebirds get out here?” Death grins, sighing in mock exasperation. “As adorable as this is, I’m afraid I haven’t got much time to spare.”

Hob feels his neck flushing with embarrassment, and Morpheus looks like a deer caught in the headlights after having just sucked on a lemon. He opens his mouth to rejoin, but before he can speak, a shrill beep sounds from down the hall.

“Ah. That’ll be the crumble,” Hob says sheepishly. “I’ll just go and fix the tea while you two get settled, yeah?” He squeezes his husband’s arm apologetically before heading towards the kitchen. On his way out the door, he ducks to give his sister-in-law a friendly peck on the cheek. “Good to see you again, love. How’ve you been?”

“A bit worried about my brother,” she replies. “But I see that he’s in good hands.” She turns to Morpheus, beaming as she takes his hands in her own and surveys him up and down. “Look at you! I hardly recognize you, little brother,” she coos. “You look so…”

“Pregnant?” Morpheus deadpans.

“Alive!” she laughs, putting an arm around his back and herding him towards the sitting room. “Human! You look great, Morpheus. You really do.” Morpheus scoffs, but does not hold back the small, pleased smile that creeps onto his face as he lets his sister drag him to the sofa.

Most of Hob's worry drains away at Death's enthusiastic reaction, bleeding out of him like the inky clouds seeping into steaming water as he makes the tea. He hopes his husband is feeling the same. Morpheus rarely talks about it, but Hob knows he still feels awful about Orpheus, and about Daniel and Lyta, and a thousand other things. And he thinks his sister is going to tell him he’s wrong for starting a new family after all that. Hob gets it, he really does. He often wonders what Eleanor and Robyn would say if they could see him now. Would they be hurt that he’s “replacing” them? Would they hate him? And what would they say about all the other cruel, horrific, unforgivable things he’s done? Someone like him probably shouldn’t have a family at all…

He exhales heavily, shaking his head as he loads up a tray with their tea and nibbles. Now is not the time to go down that road.

He walks into the sitting room just in time to see Death giving her brother a playful punch to the arm before pulling him in for a hug. “...No, you idiot! Of course I’m happy for you! And it’s obvious you’re happy, so stop moping, will you?” she huffs, clutching his narrow shoulders tightly.

“Thank you, my sister,” Morpheus mutters bashfully. “As usual, your words are a balm to my conscience.”

Hob can only stand in the doorway, grinning and shrieking internally at how cute they are. His anxiety dissipates further at seeing his husband so obviously relieved; just as he suspected, Morpheus had no need to worry about any judgment on Death’s part. Hob is so caught up in witnessing this rare display of Endless sibling affection that he momentarily forgets the reason for his sister-in-law’s visit and the very real possibility that she may have bad news for them.

He ambles over to the sofa, only spilling a few drops of tea as he sets the tray on the coffee table. “Tea and a bite to eat, if anyone’s interested,” Hob announces, furtively scanning the room to be sure he didn’t miss any of Morpheus’ risqué artwork when he tidied up earlier. Fortunately, the only paintings visible are perfectly inoffensive sunsets and still lifes, and Hob feels slightly more at ease as he nestles into his husband’s side. He doesn’t fail to notice the way Morpheus melts into him, the knots in his shoulders unwinding as Hob slings his arm around him.

“Thank you, Hob. This looks lovely,” Death says, taking her tea and a generous portion of the crumble. “So,” she continues after taking a bite, glancing between them with a ‘let’s get down to brass tacks’ expression on her face. Right, this is it, Hob thinks, tightening his grip on his husband’s shoulder. “Are you having a baby shower?”

“Er…” Hob begins, just as Morpheus splutters and nearly chokes on his tea. Not what either of them expected her to say, evidently. “We hadn’t planned on it,” he says dimly, looking at his husband and finding him equally nonplussed.

“But you have to have one!” Death insists. “It’s been ages since you’ve seen the rest of the family, and they’re all excited about their new niece or nephew. Del’s been beside herself. Literally; you know how she gets. And everyone in the Dreaming—”

“Sister,” Morpheus interrupts, rolling his eyes in amusement, “I do not think that will be necessary.”

“It’s sweet, but we really don’t need any more baby stuff,” Hob chimes in, hoping to rescue his husband from the mortifying ordeal of spending time with family. While it sounds like quite a nice idea to Hob, he knows Morpheus has been less keen than ever on socializing lately (which is saying something; it’s getting to be concerning, really). “Suze—er, friend of ours, think you met her at the Christmas party—anyway, she’s given us loads of things her grandkids have outgrown. We’ve already got more than we know what to do with.”

“Nonsense,” Death asserts. “I’ll talk to Lucienne about it. I’d throw it in my realm, but it doesn’t exactly have the right atmosphere for a baby shower, you know? I’m sure Daniel won’t mind us having a little get-together in the Dreaming.”

“I don’t suppose I have any say in this,” Morpheus says wearily.

“Nope!” his sister replies brightly.

“Very well,” Morpheus grumbles, looking resigned as he nibbles a morsel of Gouda. “As long as you promise it will indeed be only a ‘little get-together.’”

“Of course! Just the family and inner circle; forty, fifty people tops.”

Morpheus groans dramatically and throws his head back against the cushions, and Hob can’t hold back his snort of laughter. It’s absurdly endearing, the way they act like a pair of perfectly normal human siblings; anyone else witnessing this conversation would never guess that one’s an all-powerful cosmic being and the other used to be just as cosmic and all-powerful.

“Well, I think it sounds wonderful. Thanks, D,” Hob says, earning him a betrayed glare from his husband. Hob shrugs and smiles ruefully at him. It would do Morpheus good to get out of the flat, although if the party’s in the Dreaming they technically won’t be leaving their bed—which, come to think of it, might actually convince him to go along with it. And it would be rude to reject the offer, especially when their child’s future might be hanging in the balance. Speaking of which, Hob is eager to get that conversation over with, but he’s not sure how exactly he should broach the subject. “So, er…”

“You want to know if the baby will be denied my gift,” Death says gently.

Morpheus stiffens in Hob’s embrace. Hob gulps. “Yeah, well, we’ve er. Been wondering, is all. Will—I mean, should the baby be immortal? Don’t imagine there’s much precedent for this sort of thing, is there?” he chuckles, tugging nervously at his ear.

“You’d be surprised,” she smirks. “How about this: the baby will grow up normally, the same as any other human child, and they’ll have my protection until they’re old enough to decide what they want. Then it will be up to them whether or not they want to live forever. They’ll get the same deal I’ve given the two of you unless they choose otherwise. And they may choose to be mortal; you’ll have to be prepared for that possibility.”

Hob lets out a shaky breath. Right. That seems fair. Death’s offer is simultaneously a load off his mind and a whole new source of worry. He can’t imagine any child of his would choose not to live forever, but he supposes it would only be right to give them the option. And at least now they can take solace in the fact that they know what to expect.

Hob takes his husband’s hand and meets his eyes, raising his eyebrows in silent query. Morpheus responds with a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. All good, then.

“Thank you, sister. That is a generous offer, and a great comfort,” he pronounces.

“Yeah, that’s—that’s really good to hear,” Hob agrees. “Thank you, Death. Er, I don’t know how we can repay you, but—”

“Don’t be silly,” Death interjects with a wave of her hand. “You’re family. You don’t owe me anything. So. Now that that’s taken care of, tell me, how are you handling prenatal care? Have you been going to Eileithyia again?”

“Yes,” Morpheus says shortly, suddenly taciturn once more. He pops an olive into his mouth, apparently unwilling to elaborate further. It’s still an understandably sore subject, which Death is well aware of, and Hob feels a flash of mild irritation with his sister-in-law for bringing it up.

“She’s been coming to us, actually. Can’t beat the convenience,” Hob chimes in, awkwardly attempting to lighten the mood.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” Death replies. “She’s the best there is—on Earth, anyway—and it’s good that you’re mending fences.”

Morpheus scowls at that but doesn’t dispute her words, and Hob squeezes his hand in a silent show of support. He’s glad, too, that his husband just happened to know the ideal person to help them with their medical dilemma, even if they weren’t on the best of terms to start with. Because of course he knows the actual Greek goddess of childbirth and midwifery, and of course there was bad blood between them.

“What do you mean we can’t ask her? She sounds perfect.”

For weeks now, Hob has been agonizing over finding a doctor with a halfway-decent bedside manner who can treat Morpheus and the baby under the radar without asking too many questions. Morpheus hasn’t been much help; if he had his way, they’d avoid that whole mess altogether and he’d lock himself in the bedroom to give birth alone, like a stray cat. So Hob has had his work cut out for him.

And now his husband is presenting him with the answer to all their problems, yet he’s saying they can’t go to her. There’s a story here, Hob’s sure of it, but he’s a little afraid to hear it. “What happened, dove?” he asks softly.

Morpheus sighs—a heavy, creaking thing like an ancient tree toppling over. “She delivered Orpheus,” he murmurs, so quietly that Hob can scarcely hear him over the muffled din of the crowd downstairs. “She is a lady-in-waiting to the Kindly Ones. And a sister of Calliope.”

Ah. Hob can see how that would complicate things. Still, he’s been racking his brain trying to come up with a better solution and consistently coming up blank. “I understand, darling, but are you sure—”

"There is more,” Morpheus interrupts, staring down at his lap. “She—I… sent a dream to her. A portent of things to come. Her son was to be offered up as a champion in battle. Sosipolis—the child—he… he was only a babe, still at his mother’s breast. I…” he trails off, his voice rough.

“Oh, love,” Hob whispers, taking his husband’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

“It was not my wish for him to die. You must understand,” Morpheus pleads, still not meeting Hob’s eyes, “visions of the future are on the border between dreams and Destiny. I was, in essence, only an unwitting messenger—less than that; I was… merely the paper on which the message was written. Nevertheless…”

“Sweetheart,” Hob says, bringing his hand to his husband’s chin and lifting it to look him in the eye, “I know I’m biased, but this sounds like another one of those stories where you blame yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. Like you said, you were only the messenger. Besides, she chose to do what the dream told her, so it sounds like that was on her.”

“She is a servant of the Fates. She would be a fool to ignore Destiny.”

“Well, then maybe she ought to have taken it up with him,” Hob replies, a bit more harshly than he’d intended. He’s only met Destiny once, and he didn’t much care for him. No sense of humor whatsoever on that one, and he apparently has a history of letting Morpheus take the blame for things that have little to do with him.

“Even so. I… could have been kinder to her.” Morpheus sighs and shakes his head. “When the battle began, the child was transformed into an enormous serpent, and the invaders fled in fear. The serpent survived, but… it was no longer Sosipolis. Not in any way that mattered. Eileithyia came to me then, grief-stricken and enraged. I took no responsibility for my part in her tragedy. Even the boon I offered her was a paltry consolation; I told her to kill the serpent, and her son’s soul would live on in the Dreaming. He would remain a child, and she would never again see him in the Waking World. It was not in my power to offer her more.”

Recognition dawns on Hob as he listens to Morpheus’ tale. He vaguely recalls reading this story in some mythology textbook or other—the bit about the boy turning into a serpent rings a bell, anyway—although at the time, of course, he’d had no idea of his then-stranger-now-husband’s role in the whole thing. It’s always a bit mind-boggling to hear about all the legends, historical events, and even celestial phenomena he’s been involved in, especially when Morpheus talks about them like they happened down the road last Tuesday. Hob is never quite sure what to say, and now is no different.

“Er, that… that just sounds like a tough situation all around, love. And it sounds like you tried to make the best of it; hell, I’d have taken you up on the offer if I were her,” Hob says, rubbing his thumb over his husband’s bony knuckles.

“She did not share your sentiments. She was insulted by the proposition, and she… she told me that she hoped I would know the same pain one day.” Morpheus sniffs and smirks bitterly, his lower lip trembling. “I suppose she ultimately got her wish. In her grief, she eventually killed the serpent. She took some comfort in the dreams of her son, but it was not the same. He was not as he should have been. He should have lived, he…” his voice wobbles as he trails off, and Hob finds himself blinking back tears as he pulls him close, stroking up and down his back.

It doesn’t take a genius to see the parallels to Orpheus, and to Daniel. Hob thinks of Robyn, of the daughter who died before she could ever live, of the child he left behind and never knew. A tangled thread of grief and regret that winds through both of their lives, the same story cropping up again and again… It can’t go that way this time. He won’t let it.

“I’m so sorry, dove. You’re right, things didn’t turn out the way they should’ve. But you did your best. And I understand why you don’t want to ask her for help. We’ll find someone else, I promise.”

In the end, the best candidate Hob managed to find had been a veterinarian with a discreet side practice treating human patients. When he had brought it up to Morpheus, well… if looks could kill and Hob could die, he’d have been reduced to a pile of ash on the spot. He’d almost made a joke about the vet being perfect for his angry cat of a husband, but he didn’t fancy sleeping on the sofa for the next century, so he’d kept his mouth shut.

“I suppose,” Morpheus had conceded through gritted teeth, “I would be willing to speak to Eileithyia. If there is truly no better option.”

Contacting the goddess turned out to be fairly straightforward. Morpheus called on her in much the same way he would call one of his siblings, while holding a talisman that Hob didn’t recognize from the gallery—a small stone figurine that looked a bit like the Venus of Willendorf, apparently the same one he used when he was pregnant with Orpheus. Hob had found it touching that he’d kept it all this time, although Morpheus admitted he hadn’t actually held onto it and had retrieved it from his own dreams with some help from Lucienne. To Hob’s credit, he had only been slightly mystified at this pronouncement and made a mental note to remember that trick the next time he loses his keys.

Eileithyia—who now runs a small private practice in Thessaloniki for people going through difficult pregnancies—had graciously responded to Morpheus’ call and agreed to meet with them at the pub that weekend.

“I’m nervous. Are you nervous?” Hob asks, his leg bouncing involuntarily beneath the table. Not their usual table, but a booth in the back where they will, in theory, have a modicum of privacy.

“For the third time, yes,” Morpheus sighs beside him.

“Sorry, I’m just—”

“Don’t say nervous,” Morpheus snaps. He looks perfectly composed, his shoulders straight and his face that familiar old mask of aloof neutrality that had taken Hob centuries to crack, but Hob knows his husband would rather be literally anywhere else right now (including Hell, probably).

“Sorry,” Hob mutters, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Morpheus gently bumps Hob’s shoulder with his own, and Hob smiles and knocks their knees together in reply.

They sit there in silence for a few long, tense minutes. Hob sips his beer while Morpheus barely touches his lemonade. Hob has never been a particularly introspective bloke, but he’s been making a sincere effort to be better about that, which is exactly why he’s now frantically trying to calculate how he should behave around the literal goddess they’ll be meeting. What’s the right combination of deference, gratitude, and affected nonchalance to avoid embarrassing his husband and himself? He ought to be used to this sort of thing by now, but the giddy thrill of meeting divine beings in pubs never really wears off.

Before he can overthink it any further, a woman slides into the seat across from them. She’s beautiful, in a surprisingly down-to-earth way, and looks casually sophisticated in her long white blouse and loose-cut trousers. She looks like any other middle-aged woman, so much so that Hob is about to politely inform her that they’re actually saving that seat, when—

“Eileithyia,” Morpheus says. “Thank you for coming.”

“Oneiros,” she responds with a curt nod. “You look well.”

“Robert Gadling—er, call me Hob. We really appreciate you coming all this way,” Hob interjects, reaching his hand out before wondering, a split second too late, if Greek gods shake hands or if he looks like an arsehole right now. Fortunately, Eileithyia grasps his hand across the table and shakes it firmly while giving him an appraising look.

“A pleasure to meet you, Hob Gadling. You are the father, I presume?” she asks. Her voice is low and pleasantly accented, with an authoritative and decidedly maternal tone to it.

“Guilty as charged, ma’am,” Hob replies with an awkward laugh.

Suze appears and takes the goddess’ drink order (black coffee), cheerfully oblivious to the fact that she’s speaking to a millennia-old deity, and once she’s gone Eileithyia leans back in her seat, folding her arms on the table. She seems a very no-nonsense sort of person, with shrewd hazel eyes and salt-and-pepper hair swept back into an elegant bun. Nevertheless, her stern gaze is softened by laugh lines, and she actually reminds Hob a bit of his own mother, what little he remembers of her. Formidable, but kind.

Right now, she appears to be waiting for one of them to say something. She doesn’t exactly look happy to be here, but the fact that she was willing to come all the way from Greece must be a good sign, right? Even if she did magically teleport.

Hob clears his throat to begin making awkward small talk, but Morpheus speaks first. “Eileithyia. I… owe you an apology. I am. Sorry,” he says haltingly, like the words are being wrenched from him against his will.

Eileithyia raises her eyebrows. “I have never known you to apologize to anyone. It seems Calliope spoke truly. You have changed, Oneiros.”

Morpheus blanches at the mention of his ex-wife, but he nods and cracks a wry half-smile. “Indeed. I have experienced several significant changes as of late.”

Eileithyia’s face softens as her eyes drift down to Morpheus’ midsection, just barely beginning to swell, and Hob can’t hold back the proud grin that blooms on his face. It’s true—Morpheus has changed, for the better in Hob’s opinion. And he knows very well how hard it is for his husband to apologize; the man’s held grudges for billions of years, so this is big.

“Very well. Apology accepted,” the goddess declares. “In truth, I forgave you long ago. Besides,” she adds gently, “my feud was with Dream of the Endless, and you are no longer that.”

Morpheus’ shoulders sag, in relief or regret or maybe both. “I— thank you. That means… a great deal,” he murmurs.

“So, will you be able to help us, then?” Hob asks.

Eileithyia takes a long sip of coffee before answering. “My abilities are much diminished. There are fewer and fewer worshipers; my shrines have fallen into ruin. However, as long as there are those who pray for a safe pregnancy, I retain some of my power.” Hob nods as she speaks, as if this is a perfectly normal conversation, one that he fully understands and that doesn’t sound like a passage from Homer. “Regardless,” she shrugs, “I am also a certified midwife. I doubt there will be much need for divine intervention.”

“Well, even so, you’ve got at least one new acolyte,” Hob chuckles. “I’ll be lighting a candle every day, or… making an offering? Er, how does this work, exactly?”

“I also take cash,” she says, smiling for the first time since her arrival. “But only in euros. None of your funny English money.”

Hob bursts into surprised laughter. “Yeah, alright, we can do that,” he says, shaking his head in bemusement.

“You are sixteen and a half weeks along,” the goddess says, turning to Morpheus. “We’ll start with visits every four weeks. I will come to you; I imagine that will be simpler than you coming to Thessaloniki. You can accommodate a home birth?”

“I—Yes. That… that would be ideal,” Morpheus replies, looking rather nonplussed.

“Good. We will increase to bi-monthly visits in the third trimester. Possibly once a week if there are any complications, though I don’t sense anything now.” Eileithyia looks Morpheus up and down, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “It’s not twins. Do you want to know the sex?”

Hob gapes at her. “You can tell all that just from looking? And you say your powers are diminished?” The goddess simply smirks and shrugs in reply.

“We would prefer not to know the sex,” Morpheus says, and Hob nods in agreement. “Thank you, Eileithyia. Truly. I… I was not sure you would be willing to speak to me again.”

“I would not turn down an expecting parent in need,” Eileithyia assures him. “I am glad you called for me.”

“I’ve got to say, this is all just fantastic news. We’ve been tearing our hair out trying to find a doctor, so we’re really grateful for your help. What a relief, eh darling?” Hob beams, putting an arm around his husband’s shoulders.

Eileithyia surveys the both of them, her expression thawing into something tender and wistful. “Your man cares deeply for you, Oneiros. I am happy for you.”

Morpheus smiles—a full, broad smile that shows his teeth and lights up his whole face. “Yes,” he replies softly, tilting his head to face Hob. “He is a good man. I am lucky to have him.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that,” Hob splutters, his face heating as he tugs at his ear with his free hand. “I’m the lucky one.”

They hammer out the finer details of the agreement, and Hob can feel his husband relaxing further with each question that’s answered. Apparently fathers are not typically welcome at appointments—something about sacred mysteries and arcane knowledge or some such—which Hob isn’t thrilled about, but they at least manage to talk Eileithyia into letting him be present at the birth.

After they’ve discussed and planned and finished their drinks, a muffled chime sounds from somewhere nearby. The goddess pulls a mobile phone from her pocket and frowns at it. “Ah. A patient is going into labor. I must be going.”

The two men thank her again and say their goodbyes, and as she turns to leave Morpheus calls out to her. “Eileithyia, I… If you speak to Calliope before I do, would you… give her my regards?”

Eileithyia nods and smiles warmly at him before vanishing into the crowd.

So everything worked out brilliantly after all, and Hob couldn’t be prouder of Morpheus for burying that two-thousand-year-old hatchet.

“Yeah, Eileithyia’s been a life-saver,” Hob says, nodding in agreement with his sister-in-law. “If it weren’t for her, we would’ve had to go with one of my, er… underground contacts. And they’re all either glorified drug dealers or so-called ‘doctors’ with questionable credentials whose usual gigs involve extracting bullets from mobsters. And of course anything through the NHS is out of the question.”

“Of course. Can’t have your secret getting out,” Death winks.

“Too right,” Hob agrees before downing the last of his tea. It’s a relief talking to someone who understands. “Only it’s a bit frustrating; not like we can tell any of our friends the real reason we’ve got a midwife making house calls instead of going to an obstetrician like normal people living in the 21st century. Suze keeps trying to talk us out of having a home birth. I think now she thinks we’re just artsy-granola-hippie types. What was it she was asking you the other day, darling?”

“She was impressing upon me the importance of vaccinating the baby,” Morpheus replies. “And reminding me that there is no shame in getting an epidural,” he adds with an endearingly perplexed frown, which only deepens as Death hides a snicker behind her teacup.

“And she’s certainly not wrong!” Hob says. “Still, better that we’ll be dealing with all that in the comfort of our own home. Speaking of the birth, wasn’t there something you wanted to ask your sister, dove?”

A tinge of pink appears on Morpheus’ cheekbones as Death leans forward, glancing between them expectantly. “Ah. Yes, I…” Morpheus begins, stumbling over his words. “Sister. Would you… be there? When the baby arrives?”

“It would be my honor, little brother,” she replies, her eyes shining. “Technically I’m present for every birth, but it’s lovely to be invited.” Morpheus nods, looking a little choked up himself, which naturally makes Hob’s eyes water too. “By the way,” Death continues, “are you planning on introducing the little one to mum and dad?”

Morpheus lets out a derisive bark of laughter. “No. No, I think not.”

“Probably for the best,” Death grins, shaking her head. “Oh, that reminds me, I was talking to Despair not too long ago, and she was saying…”

Hob quickly loses the thread of the conversation as the siblings discuss things that probably happened billions of years ago to people he’s never heard of. He simply watches the movements of his husband’s face, his brow gradually unfurrowing and his eyes creasing with laughter as he listens to his sister’s tales. He’s just so bloody beautiful, so extraordinary. Hob still can’t believe he’s his. He can’t believe he’s sitting here, in his flat, having tea with the former anthropomorphic personification of dreams and the current anthropomorphic personification of death, and they’re talking about literal stars that they know, and their midwife is a goddess, as is his husband’s ex, and…

And what is Hob, compared to all that? Just some bloke who became immortal by accident and knocked up someone so far out of his league they’re not even playing the same sport. The baby is going to be an incredible person, though. Hob is already sure of that. And then he’ll have two extraordinary people in his life, and he’ll still just be some doofus with nothing to offer.

His spiraling rumination is cut short as the two siblings erupt into laughter. Hob laughs along, even though he didn’t hear whatever was so funny. Still, it brings a genuine smile to his face to see Morpheus enjoying himself and looking so relaxed.

“Well,” Death sighs, stretching as she rises from her chair, “I’d better be on my way. Got another appointment nearby.”

“Oh! Wait, you’ve got to see the nursery before you leave,” Hob says, standing up with a groan and extending a hand to help Morpheus to his feet. “Mo’s mural is looking spectacular.”

“Next time. I promise,” she beams, pulling both men in for a hug. “It’s been wonderful to see you, brother. And you, Hob. I’m so happy for you both, really.”

“Thank you, my sister. For everything,” Morpheus murmurs.

Death kisses his temple and whispers something that draws a smile from Morpheus, then turns to Hob. “Take good care of him, Hob,” she says softly.

“I will,” Hob promises, nodding fervently. “Always.”

And then, with a blinding flash of blue light and a fluttering of wings, she’s gone.

Morpheus collapses back into the sofa cushions like his strings have been cut. He looks exhausted. Hob is right there with him. He settles back down beside his husband, gathering him into his lap as he begins to knead out the remaining tension in his shoulders. “Proud of you, love,” he whispers. “And hey, great news from your sister, eh? One less thing to stress about.”

“Mmm,” Morpheus purrs in agreement as he luxuriates in Hob’s touch. “Although I am not looking forward to this ‘baby shower’ of hers.”

“Party pooper,” Hob chuckles, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “It won’t be too bad. I’ll set an alarm, wake you up if it gets too painful.”

“I will hold you to that,” Morpheus replies.

“How are you feeling, darling? Time for a nap, do you think?”

Morpheus considers this as Hob continues to work out the knots in his neck. “No,” he says finally, “I feel. Restless. And I am craving chips.”

“Why don’t we head downstairs for a bite, then? Probably do us both good to get out and work off this leftover adrenaline.”

Hob is half expecting Morpheus to insist on staying here while Hob goes and fetches him some chips (a frequent occurrence in the Gadling household), but to his surprise, his husband nods. “Yes. I think I would like that,” Morpheus says, moving to stand up.

“Brilliant!” Hob exclaims, with a bit more gusto than he’d intended, as he hauls them both to their feet. He can’t help it; getting his husband to leave the flat feels like almost as big a victory as the positive news they’ve just received. “Shall we?” He holds his arm out in an exaggerated show of gentlemanliness, and Morpheus takes it with a roll of his eyes that belies the adoring grin on his face.

Hob has a spring in his step as they make their way down to the pub, arm in arm. There’s nothing, he thinks, that could spoil his good mood right now.

Well. Almost nothing.

✨✨✨✨✨

Thanks for reading! Reblogs, as well as kudos and comments on ao3 are always appreciated! 💗💗💗

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Of Storms and Sun

Posting August 30, 2024

Fic by thewhitehotspotlight

Art by hexentaenzerin

Rating: Explicit

Summary: The political alliance is a strong choice for his people, Prince Dean knows. It doesn't make meeting your spouse the day before your wedding any less strange.

Prince Castiel is sure he knows what to expect from this union- aside from one rebellious secret kept close to his chest, his future has been set for him for as long as he can remember.

Neither are quite prepared for what it will take to make a new life in the world together.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Omega!Castiel/Alpha!Dean Winchester, Arranged Marriage, Royalty AU, Fantasy, Prince Dean Winchester, Prince Castiel, Miscommunication, Explicit Sexual Acts, Magic Systems, Magical Powers, Gender Roles, Strangers to Husbands to Friends to Lovers, Abuse (not between Dean/Cas), Dub-con, Sex Toys, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Bottom!Castiel/Top!Dean Winchester, Pregnancy/Mpreg, Miscarriage

Excerpt below the cut

He knows he was lucky to be born a prince in his lands. No one in the palace ever dared to touch him, not in the ways he’d witnessed or heard whispers of. That didn’t stop the wandering eyes or comments or letters slipped under his door on occasion, but he’s well aware of how much worse it could have been if he weren’t more valuable to his family untouched and untethered to anyone. Dean has shaken his view of the world. Dean had been the first alpha since he presented to ask him what he wanted. Who’d cried over having to hurt him. From the crass conversations Castiel had overheard from soldiers and other alphas, most of them would have been practically drooling over having an omega trapped in his position and would never have bothered to take the time that Dean had. Being here in this new home seems too good to be true. He can’t bring himself to trust it fully. There has to be a catch or a trap somewhere, he just hasn’t found it yet. But for now he’ll enjoy it. Cas falls asleep on the decadent bed before he thinks any further on it.

[mpregkendallknight]

Hi mpregkendallknight nation

Mini introduction post :3

I’m August, I’m a 21 (soon to be 22) yr old trans dude from the Midwest.

I’ve fucked with btr since the show originally came out (yeah I was a youngin) and so far have seen their 2011 and 2012 tours, and their can’t get enough tour

Kendall is my fave (hence the username), Logan is a close second

This account originally just started bc I like having separate blogs for all my fandoms, then I ended up making a ton of mutuals (including the two other mpreg btr accts love u guys)

[topharryficfest]

Welcome to Round 3 of the Top Harry Fic Fest!

About:

This fest began with the intention of exploring the versatility in what is simply a role in sex and not an indicator of one’s personality, gender, etc. We’d like to challenge the idea that just because someone may be inherently feminine in their day to day life and even enjoys that part of themselves does not mean they must only take a bottom, submissive role in the bedroom. It’s to celebrate everything that we love about Harry—his femininity, his love of pregnancy and motherhood, and his shy, gentle nature—and to explore scenarios in which he gets to be a top without erasing those beloved traits just to fit him into a box of what people believe a top should be. We enjoy unabashed displays of queerness and the inherent subversion of top/bottom dynamics that are considered “unconventional” through topics like BDSM, A/B/O, trans identities, and so on. That’s why the mods decided to continue the fest to not only shed light on this very intricate topic, but to embrace Harry in all his maidenly aura!

Rules for Writing: 

● Participants must be 18+ by the sign-up closing date (April 27th) 

● Word count minimum of 1k

● For the consideration of all participants, no underage and no non-con will be allowed; there are no other restrictions on writing explicit/sensitive content, but please tag accordingly.

● All AUs are allowed such as omegaverse, girl direction, mpreg, etc.

● Harry must predominantly top in the fic given the nature of the fest

● All pairing’s welcome as long as they are Harry-centric; Given that the fest’s theme is based on a queer dynamics, all relationships should be queer in nature.

Rules for Posting:

● Fics should be completed by the time of the author’s scheduled posting date; No WIPs are allowed.

● This fest is not anonymous; Fics should be posted publicly on AO3; Feel free to post snippets or teasers (and make sure to tag us!)

● Authors are responsible for their own fic posts and AI generated art or images are prohibited from use in moodboards, posts, etc.

● Fic posts will be reblogged and spotlighted on the scheduled posting date and the fest should be mentioned in the post.

● Fics will not be moderated, so please, use your best judgment when writing sensitive subjects and again, tag accordingly.

Schedule: 

MARCH 5th-19th: Prompt submissions

MARCH 20th-JULY 19th: Author sign ups

AUGUST 20th: Author check-in

SEPTEMBER 20th: Deadline

SEPTEMBER 23rd: Posting begins!!

Please feel free to message either of the mods @bittersweetsin or @blueskiesrry, if you have any questions! 🎀

Sign Ups Open Now!

Prompt List

Author Sign Up Form

[felinelord-bowbeforemepeasant]

The bsd fandom is so weird and ridiculous yet so sad and angsty at the same time and i love it, at first we just being mad at bones for ruining the skkk chapter 88 scene to chapter 109 is out and chaos ensure

I was done doing my reaction for chapter 109 and I see some post like "NONONONONONO DAZAI IS NOT DEAD HE STILL ALIVE" and being speechless about what happening , theory and analysis,people thinking about another scenario where there are just being lovely dovey happily ever after, bsd fandom going from "BONES I HATE YOU WHAT HAVE YOU DONE" to " WTFFFF IS GOING ON", people being slapped in the face thrice tenfold hundred fold??? for being in the good omens fandom, jujutsu kaisen fandom then bsd fandom (I hope there are a meme about you should never ask what happen to August 3rd,2023 for people in those fandom or people who all in the three fandom), people just doing fanart, people seeing last panel (I mean the three sokouku generation panel) or any panel they like and think "wow homo", it being trending because of chap 109, and dazai stan threatening the author because of what happen ( which is not very nice and i know this because of a post i see while scrolling through bsd tag, dazai tag count too i guess), etc

We really need someone to make a history book about the bsd fandom cause we do so many questioning stuff like cursed name on tiktok (i mostly see them on tiktok and i didn't see them anywhere else though), bsd characters x random object, mpreg, the bsd x tr fandom thing ( I was trying to hold my laughter while thinking about that), then we have bones ruining chapter 88 to the chaos of chapter 109 and many more i think but I don't remember that much

This fandom is like a mood swing and I love it so much

[funky-gobbo-art]

Donolinc/Cringe!AU pt. 3

Trans!John headcanon post HERE

Cringe!AU pt. 1 HERE

Cringe!AU pt. 2 HERE

Once again I'll give the same CW as the last post: if you don't wanna see any references to trans male pregnancy please blacklist the terms "mpreg" and "tmpreg", similar content to whats in Mafia 3 normally like violence, bigotry of the 1960's, war, etc.

General disclaimer: I'm still not good at drawing babies/young children and I'm not much of a writer personally so sorry if things are clunky.

John got home sometime around mid-November, laying low and skipping around the states altering his appearance a bit until he felt the heat died down enough he could return to Louisiana with no issues. Once he got home he was greeted by a very intense Lincoln alone at Sammy's while Dani was at Nicki's being watched. Lincoln was feeling a lot of stuff at once, like anger, but also just holding back emotions a bit, hiding at first that he was happy to see John coming through the door.

Obviously things got pretty intense emotionally a bit after John got into the house, but things cooled down (or heated up lol) and Lincoln immediately started teasing him for his more "messy" appearance, said he looked like a hippie.

Adjusting back home was pretty comforting for a bit, John's happy he can just stay inside, catch up with Dani and be lazy. Already he was naturally anti-social so staying in wasn't that much of an issue, just watching T.V and most he does is if Lincoln needs his help on something work related.

Wasn't too long until John started feeling sick again, waking up early to run to the bathroom, or accidentally throwing up at the worst times. He immediately had a "oh this better not be what I think it is again" and after a visit to Lincoln's personal doctor, yep, it was exactly what he thought it was.

Despite appearing angry, he was more annoyed and just wanted to give Lincoln a hard time. They were both fine with this because John's going to be more a homebody now and Lincoln can support them all. Dani, despite being 2, seemed pretty happy with the news, she kept saying "baby!" after being told.

John definitely wants to get serious about finally getting a hysterectomy after this kid though. Still kicking himself for not getting one earlier but oh well. Like the last pregnancy he was moody and wasn't allowed to smoke or drink, fell back into annoying Lincoln by popping gum around him constantly.

Rhys Clay was born August 10th 1972, Lincoln Clay and John Donovan his parents and Danielle Clay his older sister. Not named after anyone again but both parents were looking over names and just got attached to that one. Once again the baby was delivered at home with the same doctor as last time, only difference is that Dani could meet her new little brother as soon as they were able to.

Lincoln was very happy being a father of 2 now, though it was dawning on him that he needs an actual house for them now, but he has some time before both kids are big enough to get their own rooms. John feels a little weird knowing he's technically had 3 kids already but gets serious about getting a hysterectomy a bit after going back to normal after Rhys is born. Both John and Lincoln have to settle with a story now to tell people especially if John is seen walking around with both kids. Lincoln finally comes out about it all to the other 2 underbosses (since Nicki already knows), he's a father of 2 and the other parent is a trans man who happens to be the gangs advisor that's been working from the shadows ever since the beginning.

Vito and Cassandra don't take too kindly knowing that their bosses advisor is a now ex-C.I.A agent, and it does break out into a big argument between the underbosses, Lincoln and Donovan. Lincoln being so used to this now, he was able to get the argument under control by telling John to keep his mouth shut and telling the other 2 if he wasn't trustworthy, then why on earth would he willingly raise 2 children with him? It seems to work.

Some time passes: Dani starts school, shows a bit of an artistic streak while also showing signs of being very stubborn when she feels like it. Rhys shows signs of being autistic and is nonverbal until he's nearly 4 years old. The Clay Crime Family starts doing some good for the local area, renovating and building places, but also expanding their operations. Lincoln is basically untouchable now, which means his family is safe and sound as long as their around him.

John still goes around the city with both kids and visiting Robert, but can't seem to stop Robert from making snarky comments about both him and his kids, meanwhile Father James notices a lot of similarities between Rhys and Lincoln from back when he first came into the orphanage. Both very quiet boys but different circumstances.

Donovan takes a good break from his "side project", he's letting the heat die down since the whole senate hearing incident and he wants those folks he sent that message out for to get a false sense of security and think nothing more is going to happen, but John is planning on striking when they least expect it. He's not going to act for awhile though, doesn't wanna miss any birthdays and still be present during the kid's childhoods, also Rhys still needs a lot of attention.

Dani and Rhys are very close, and Dani always tries to get him involved with games she plays, Rhys is pretty quiet still and shy around new people but does start talking more to his family and other adults that come around, mostly Father James or Nicki Burke.

Rhys is the last kid and John tells Lincoln if he wants more, he can just figure that all out himself.

Both kids are still in development, character wise. I have some thoughts about Dani in her teen years, like going on with her friends a lot, as for Rhys, I'm still wondering what personality he has, though I see him getting into puzzles a lot. I'm open to any thoughts honestly, writing kids isn't really a strength for me and these are my first fan kid oc's for a piece of media I like.

But yeah, that's my cringe au! Been cooking it for awhile and finally got the guts to release it to the wild, like I said previously.

[questforrp]

Would you like to RP?

I’m casting out my net searching for some RP partners! In the past, I was unfortunately unable to keep up with some of my RPs because of work but now I’m ✨ u n e m p l o y e d ✨ and looking to dedicate some of my newfound free time to getting my fix of some pairings! 💕

Cool Stuff About Me:

I live in the US on EST.

I am 26!

I only rp on discord.

My writing style is adv lit/novella. My responses often break discord character limit and I have nitro which offers a higher character limit.

I’m pretty open to a wide range of ideas yet I do love to lean a bit more slice-of-life and modern in role plays. I love angsty, plot heavy ideas as well– however, I do wish for a good bit of planning and deliberation beforehand!

DISCLAIMERS:

Writing style is very important to me. It is genuinely make or break for me. I am also a long time fanfic writer so I believe my writing is very thorough. I am not semi-lit whatsoever. My writing will be lengthy and thorough most often so I please ask that you do not interact with this post if you do not think you will be compatible with my writing style. (Samples will be included in this post!)

I am not too keen on most topics, themes, or tropes that fall under the umbrella term “Dead Dove”. Nothing involving minors and adults in sexual or romantic relationships. Not too keen on heavy violence, gore, or any type of ageplay.

Who I’m Looking For:

Someone who is 21+ (will settle for 18+)

Someone who writes third person

Someone who is able to write as close as possible to their character’s cannon personality (with some liberties, of course!)

Someone who is comfortable writing NSFW content (smut:plot usually ranges 40:60 but I’m willing to adjust)

Someone who writes adv-lit/novella (very important)

Parings legend:

Top

Bottom

Character I prefer to write**

No preference on writing

Pairings:

Gojo Satoru x Getou Suguru (t/b dynamic is unfortunately unshakeable on this one.)

Itadori Yuji** x Fushiguro Megumi

Erwin Smith** x Levi Ackerman

Laois Touden x Kabru

Uzumaki Naruto x Nara Shikamaru**

One More Special Thing With Only One Bullet Point:

I love omegaverse. The best way to catch me is to put an omegaverse idea on a hook and reel me in. Omegaverse for me includes potential/current/mentions of mpreg and I am also very fond of parental centered storylines. This includes planned pregnancies, accidental, past, etc.

Now that you’ve somehow gotten through all of that, please take note of all the information I’ve painstakingly laid out! I will not be negotiating things I have blatantly laid out but I am open to questions or concerns!

Now, without further ado, please give this post a like ❤️ or send me a dm 💬 if you’re interested in starting an rp with me!

As of August 8th, 2024, I am actively searching for partners!

Writing samples will be listed from here on so please enjoy and if ya see one that gets your attention, feel free to ask me about it and we might be able to turn it into an RP!

eruri (Erwin x Levi)

Erwin's tongue felt thick and tacky in his mouth, the cavern bone-dry and arid as soon as his ears processed the escort's siren call. He'd felt this shallow feeling of nerves before, the same storm in his gut that felt like he was a sailor stuck at sea- at the mercy of savage waves. It was only once, highly cherished and to never be forgotten. It had been when he'd first bedded his ex-wife in their early twenties. Anticipation teetered on a fine line that separated excitement and fear of the unknown.

He's technically never promised anyone anything. Not a stable life, not the best version of himself, nothing. Nor was it truly ever expected of him. Erwin was a cookie cutter man made to fill a specific role but in his thirty-four years of age, he still hasn't begun to figure out what or who had made him this way. Was he a prisoner of someone else's expectations or his own?

At that moment, he remembered Miche's warbled words. The man had had his arm thrown around Erwin's shoulder, face flushed and smelling of artisanal whiskies.

"You know," Miche had hiccupped. "You really hold yourself to some high standards, man."

Erwin had gently shouldered his friend's arm off of him, inspecting the glass in his hand to make sure it was actual water and not another troublesome liquor.

"It's to be expected of me." He'd said, flashing a small smile across the room to a philanthropist woman who was virtuous in name only.

Miche took a swallow of water, pulling a face as if he was disappointed in it. "By who?”

The question stumped Erwin, his mind only providing vague offerings of names and masses who only knew him by photo and net-worth.

"Look, you're a man just like the rest of us. Just because you're the brains of this whole thing doesn't mean you can't be a person. You can live a little."

Erwin was only a man. Destined to be an imperfect being. No amount of starving himself would make him more virtuous in some “God's” eyes.

He'll give himself away to hunger, if just for one night.

goge/satosugu (Gojo x Getou)

Suguru doesn’t know what requires his attention more; the drilling “bree bree”’s of the hot summer cicadas or the sharp pleasure of Satoru biting into his inner thigh as if the tender flesh would give away to the juicy, sweetness of a ripe apple.

This meetup was meant to go in a different direction but Suguru couldn’t resist the urge to taunt Satoru. Even though his eyes were covered by those abysmal bandages, Suguru could tell his six eyes were miserable underneath.

Sweet, sweet Satoru.

Satoru who treats a criminal like him so tenderly. Who wouldn’t want to poke a little fun at him?

“Mmnh-!” Suguru jerks, spine curving into an arch as Satoru bites particularly hard this time. Suguru flicks his gaze down where Satoru sits with his teeth still embedded in his skin, his cheek pushed into the firmness of the muscle. His eyes are lidded and lustful yet somehow wide and demanding.

Suguru breathes a husky chuckle. The strongest sorcerer in the world nipped him like a puppy demanding his attention.

Suguru shakes his arm free from one of the sleeves of his gojogesa and lets it fall into the pale tresses of Satoru’s hair.

He scratches his blunt nails along the scalp, eyes creasing with his grin as Satoru leans into the affection.

“Satoru,” he breathes as the man starts to lathe at the bite. “Good boys don’t bite, remember?” he teases.

[icespur]

Mpreg Akiren/Joker during Strikers/Scramble

SPOILERS FOR P5 STRIKERS, BELOW, SKIP IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED

Okay, but I really like the "Akiren/Joker being pregnant during P5 Strikers" concept.

Especially since the birthday I picked out for Komari (If you haven't seen the past name voting poll, that's the name that won) is August 8th 2017, which is in the middle of Strikers right when they arrive at Sapporo. That could lead to interesting drama where maybe during the Natsume Boss fight, Joker gets hit hard enough where it causes his water to break early

(for context on how bad this is, Baby's due date is October 26th, (originally was November 2nd according to Time and Dates website, but when playing around with a pregnancy conception date calculator, Due Date came out as October 26th, so I'm trusting that source)

I had the idea that for this scenario Joker intentionally hasn't told his friends about his pregnancy and especially doesn't want to tell them once they regain access to the Metaverse and have to go on a roadtrip to infiltrate Jails, because of the automatic obligation to be the Leader and being vital to the team, he worries they'll treat him cautiously or make him sit out battle altogether for the fetus's sake, which---while he too is also worried about his unborn child's safety, he feels he doesn't have much of a choice. He can't just take a break and opt out of the party, what if the others get overpowered by a shadow or Monarch and die in battle because he wasn't there to protect them?!

And he especially doesn't want to drop the pregnancy news and explanation as to why and who the baby daddy is in front of Futaba and Haru because "Earlier this year in February me and Akechi who was resurrected by Maruki, uhhh----engaged in passionate---*ahem* a "Bedroom Duel" before taking Maruki's treasure the following day. I was born with a uterus that didn't shrivel up like it's supposed to when an embryo develops biological male organs and genitalia. I still Identify and consider myself a guy though. I didn't realize my uterus was even functional, but against all logic, it is, and I'm pregnant with mine and Akechi's baby, and yes I intend to keep it." might be awkward for them since Akechi caused the death of both their parents.

But "Hide the pregnancy" plan becomes much trickier when your in early labor, and despite Akiren's stubborn insistence that 'he's fine' as he physically struggles for his life to act like he's not having painful contractions, the rest of the group is clearly seeing through his BS and that something way more than just having low HP and SP is going on.

Or-----

If Joker's unborn child has their own Persona that triggers whenever Joker enters battle or is in trouble, and said Persona emanates from his belly.

"So----are you going to explain why a translucent unfamiliar persona just holographed from your abdomen and cast an almighty attack that insta killed that group of shadows we were just fighting, or----?"

How would he get out of that one? There's not many answers he could come up with that would probably convince them, his friends aren't stupid after all.

So Akiren would have to reveal the truth "Yeah, it's not my Persona, it's my unborn child's. Too be fair, I didn't know fetuses could have a Persona up until now, I'm just as bewildered as the rest of you! But yes, I'm----pregnant."

Just the idea of Fetus Komari having a persona with inherited abilities of both her parents ultimate Personas, thus having scarily strong abilities, and popping in mid battle to wipe the enemies away is hilarious to me.

Joker just handles it by making a joke that "Oh, I guess my child inherited Akechi's bloodlust in battle, haha."

Cut to the rest of the Thieves standing there in a mix of awe and horror. "Why the hell did you say that so calmly, you think that's a good thing?!"

[gerec]

Hi gerec! Hope you're doing well! Recently I'm obsessed with Mpreg! Erik and I wonder do you have any recommendation for this？ Thank you so much!

Hi Anon! Here's a list of mpreg Erik fics for you to enjoy :D

Your Baby is My Supermagnet (My Baby is Your Drug) by Unforgotten

After Cuba, Erik and Charles are BOTH pregnant. Months later, the babies manifest in utero, making pregnancy that much more awkward for Charles - but dangerous for Erik.

Seeking Alpha by annejumps

Erik is a single omega who's managed to avoid entanglement with an alpha, but now his instincts are forcing him to reconsider.

Nightcap by Cesare

“You’re not, I hope, going to tell me that you’re pregnant,” says Erik.

“No,” Charles answers patiently. “If I were, you might have noticed some unusual behavior, like mood swings, sleeplessness, food cravings...”

Midnight Snack (The Robe And Slippers Remix) by helens78

Erik's been restless at night; Charles has some theories about why. It's a bit dangerous to point out mood swings, body changes, and possible secondary mutations in a kitchen, but Charles can be gentle.

A Matter of Convenience by flightinflame

All Erik cares about is keeping Nina safe. It isn't always easy, not when his past stalks him and there are few options available to a single mutant omega, but he's determined to protect her at any cost.

Charles loves his sons, biological and fostered, more than anything. They are flourishing in his care, but the state doesn't think a single alpha can handle children.

A chance meeting gives both of them a solution to their problems. Marry, and no one will try and split up their families. Only what starts off as a simple contract soon becomes far more complicated.

Father of the Bride AU by Unforgotten

A powered, modern era AU with mpreg. Originally inspired by the Steve Martin movies Father of the Bride (1991) and Father of the Bride Part II (1995), though it kind of took off running after that.

A Minor Mystery (Alone No More Remix) by Unforgotten

After D.C., a surprising development disrupts Erik's plans.

August by Red

For the XMFC kinkmeme, in response to a prompt asking for an mpreg story with some genetics thrown in the mix. While non-mutant couples may be able to conceive a mutant or a non-mutant child, for a couple with two mutants, there's a twenty-five percent chance of a third option: a fatal presentation of the mutant gene. Erik found out years ago that he was one of a number of (relatively cisgendered? this is an odd thing for me to be typing) mutant guys who have the secondary mutation of A Uterus. He'd also been told--years ago, but less so than the last statement--that he was infertile. He and Charles have been on the waiting list for adopting a mutant kid, but when morning sickness sets in, Erik can't exactly celebrate his sudden ability to get pregnant until he's ruled out that twenty-five percent chance.

Cue hiding a pregnancy from a telepath husband, dealing with Dr. MacTaggert's meddling, and trying to avoid the relentless well-wishing of the police department's esteemed Mutant Affairs Division.

home as a borderless metaphor series by flightinflame, specficslut (homosociality)

Erik has been traded to a foreign king for a chest of gold and a hundred bushels of grain. In Westchester, he must learn to start a new life... and navigate the roles that have been thrust upon him, whether concubine or courtesan, consort or slave.

Something Elemental (The What's That Smell? Remix) by professor

Erik used to love smelling Charles' cologne. Now he hates it. There's a reason for that.

Come On, Baby by firstlightofeos

Erik's almost a week past his due date. He and Charles are trying everything they can think of to speed things along—and of course, there's one method they prefer.

The Five Of Us Want You To Tell Him (But He'll Wait For You To Say) by helens78

Erik has something he needs to tell Charles, and everyone wants to weigh in on it. The Brotherhood isn't going to let him hide forever.

Come on, Baby (the correlation is not causation remix) by Red

Erik might be past-due for a normal pregnancy, but by the fourth time, he should realize he's well within time for one of his. That doesn't mean he's not going to try speeding things along.

Charles just hopes he survives (and wishes Erik could be faster getting in the car, once the show gets started).

Without the Words (this, and my heart beside Remix) by flightinflame 

Charles knows that this arrangement will work out well for all of them. He gets the heir he needs, Doctor Shaw is saved disgrace after his ward's indiscretions, and Erik gets a fresh start. It would be easier, though, if Erik at least pretended to hide his hatred.

Baby of '78 by Unforgotten

Charles and Erik's daughter is born during a blizzard.

Unexpected by citrinesunset

Erik has no interest in having an alpha. Charles enjoys having flings with omegas, but certainly isn't looking for anything serious. But neither of them has been with another mutant before.

When Erik gets pregnant, they both have to decide if they can commit despite their differences.

Inheritance by PragmaticHominid

Erik and Charles attempt to survive and to keep their child safe in a world overrun by zombies.

It's Weird When Shaw Is Nice series by Not_You

A swords and sorcery AU where Sebastian Shaw is a gruff northern warlord, Erik is his first no-longer-mpreggable manwife, and Charles is the young and terrified virgin they marry for more babies. And then the story of those babies and their own marriages because epics happen to me.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: August 4/23

Happy First Friday in August, everyone!!! It’s my favourite month, and I hope you’ll celebrate the best month with me with these fantastic new reads on my MFL list AND give the Boosted Fic some love! Enjoy!!

SIGNAL BOOSTING

Kidnapped: A Comedy by scuttlesworth (T, 10,515 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TRF, Humour, Kidnapping, BAMF John, Criminal Stupidity, Guns, Death, Crack) - This is what happens when you start counting up the number of times John's been kidnapped and think, wow. He must be an expert by now.

RECENT MFLs

Hussy by Mottlemoth (E, 5,696 w., 2 Ch. || Mystrade & Johnlock || Tenderness, Deductions, Holmes Brothers, Protective Greg, Dirty Talk, Sex Toys) – Sherlock deduces at a glance that his brother has somehow acquired himself a boyfriend. The identity of Mycroft's boyfriend doesn't go down very well.

Keep on Changing by philalethia (T, 9,994 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Supernatural Elements, Ghosts, Haunting) – “Why would Mary be haunting you?”John didn’t even have to think about it. “Because she’s angry.”

Off-Kilter Series by redscudery (E, 21,390+ w. across 12 works || Series WiP || Masturbation, Killts, UST, Mildly Dubious Consent, Falling in Love, First Time, Red Pants) – Sherlock Holmes needs his flatmate to do some modeling, but even John has his limits.

The Heart in Him by azriona (M, 44,249 w., 10 Ch. || Omegaverse AU || Kid Fic, Mpreg, Coma) – Three years after Sherlock fakes his death, he receives a text from Mycroft telling him it is time to come home. But the text doesn’t give the whole story. Not by half. Part 1 of Hearts

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Practice Makes Perfect

Posting August 26th, 2024

Fic by ElsaSigyn

Art by Hectatess

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What was Dean to do when his dad told him to start being a “better omega” so he could find an alpha? Why, he enlists his best friend and alpha crush, Castiel, to help him “practice.” The duo spend months exploring each other before realizing their feelings for one another are reciprocated. But when a tragic accident rips Dean away from Castiel, only to be reunited six years later, will time have taken its toll, or will all that practice have made them perfect for each other?

Tags: Alternate Universe, Omegaverse, Experimenting, Underage, Alpha Castiel, Omega Dean Winchester, Handjobs, Blowjobs, First Time, First Kiss, Car Accident, Minor Offscreen Character Deaths, Angst, Mpreg, Happy Ending

Excerpt below the cut

“Jesus Christ, Cas. What the hell was that?”

The alpha rubs his stubble over the omega’s scent gland, followed by a small hum. “My apologies, Dean. I’ve been thinking about doing that all summer. Got a little carried away.”

The deepened voice of the alpha has Dean’s dick stirring. “You’ve been thinking of biting me all summer?”

The alpha pulls himself up and out of Dean, looking shy and ashamed. “That… was unexpected. As you can probably tell by my lack of a knot, I haven’t had my first rut, but… I’m definitely starting to have more alpha tendencies. Urges and feelings I’m having to get used to.”

“What kind of urges and feelings?”

“I’m assuming these are just normal alpha urges. I have control of them most of the time. I was not anticipating that feeling to be so strong after seeing you again.”

“What feeling?” The omega says as he steps up to the alpha, their naked bodies nearly touching.

“The desire to mate and breed yo– an omega.”

“So where does that leave us?”

Castiel turns away, staring at a spot on the wall, as though unable to face Dean. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to control my alpha urges around you, Dean. I think we may need to revisit our previous arrangement.”

The thought of not having the alpha touch him leaves him in a near panic. The way he felt when Castiel was inside him was the best he’s felt in months. For him, it isn’t an option for them to stop what they’ve been doing, so he needs to reason with the alpha. He knows the alpha is out of his league but maybe if he can convince him this is still platonic, he can get what he wants while convincing Castiel they are perfect for each other.