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Those Magnificent Omegas In Their Flying Machines

Chapter Text

The Winchester Castle is as old as balls.

Despite this, no dancing ever graces its hallowed halls. This is because there are no Omegas in there. And who wants to dance without Omegas? No one, that's who.

The reason for the Omega-vacuum is simple: Robert “Bobby“ Singer of the Winchesters, the founder of this ancient stone monstrosity, got all grumpy after the death of his wife, sweet Omega Karen. In his old manor in Sioux Falls, huge though it was, he did not have enough space to mourn her in peace. The place was constantly full of idiots, most of them young idiots and why the Hell did he even employ so many people in the first place?! They made an awful amount of racket. Sure, they missed Karen too, but mostly they were stupid with hormones and dating. The house and the grounds were infested with romance. It was disturbing Bobby's grump.

He made a valiant effort to be a master of his own house, being an Alpha and King and all and banned the dancing. Then the giggling and after that, the flirting. Of course, it was like trying to herd cats, what with all the Omegas prancing through the kitchens and halls. Stick an Omega in a crowd of serious, business minded folks - of Men of Letters, even  - and all those serious, business minded folks will be giggling and flirting in ten seconds flat. Omegas just have that effect. There's no reasoning with them.

So, he built the Winchester Castle.

For thinking.

Well, ok, mostly for drinking beer and playing pool with the bros, but also for thinking. After he lived out his days and died with last unfriendly gaze at the world, the purpose held. By law and by custom, no Omega could ever cross the threshold of Winchester Castle and it has been used by generations of Kings - all of them Alphas - to drink beer and play pool with the bros think.

'The thing about thinking,' thinks Prince Misha von Krushnic, an Omega extraordinaire and a freshly-wed husband to King Jensen of the Winchesters, 'is that when you need a special crib to do it in - and a huge granite one with a deep-ass moat at that - you are definitely overthinking things.'

He narrows his eyes, looking at the castle from the shadow of the forest edge. His horse rears up and whinnies below him, impatient.

“Shut up, horse,” Misha says, remaining gracefully upright in the saddle and pats Bella's neck. He tilts his head like an owl, considering his options. The Winchester castle looms in the middle of the great lake, all black stone tower after tower, fortified and grim and out of bounds. On the ramparts the ant-like people are bustling, preparing for king's arrival. Only then will the bridge come down; the place is built to be completely inaccessible by any other means.

Well, Misha loves a challenge. Like Hell is he going to be cut off from his new husband's sweet cock, much less for a whole fortnight. He will show them an obedient Omega. HA!

There is FUN to be had!!!

TBC *is hungover as fuck* I KNOW-SHORT-BUT IT'S THE BET, OK *falls unconscious*