Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes

The basic idea behind this collection is that I wanted to share some of the fics I wrote as responses to prompts/challenges that I did over on Livejournal without flooding with my stories (although they could certainly use more Mylar around here). Keep in mind that each story is stand alone and comes with their own warnings. This drabbles will mainly feature Mylar, but there will be some Plaude thrown in. Also, as usual there will be plenty of slash and mpreg to go around. Feel free to skip around and read what you please.

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Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13
Prompt/Request: Can I get some Mohinder/Sylar mpreg? I'd prefer if Mohinder was the one who was pregnant, but either one is just fine.
Warnings: Mpreg, Language, Mild Spoilers for Season 3

Mohinder groaned, gripping the side of his desk as he felt his baby give another massive kick to his insides. It had been a long day. He'd spent nine tiring hours on his swollen feet doing just about every mindless task that the new Company asked him to preform while his unborn child squirmed around inside of him, kicking his insides like a hyperactive soccer player. His back was killing him, his feet were screaming, his eyes were so heavy he felt certain they'd slip close any second now, and his baby would not settle down.

"I love seeing you like this," Sylar murmured as he came up behind him, wrapping his strong arms around his swollen middle. The geneticist shuddered as he felt the "reformed" serial killer's possessive grip on his massive belly. "Big and all mine."

The frightening thing was that he knew that it was true. There was nothing that Sylar found more arousing than seeing Mohinder big and pregnant with their bastard child. It was, after all, undeniable evidence that the two of them had had sex. Mohinder had tried to hide it. He had attempted to go around telling everyone that he didn't know whose child he was carrying (he'd rather be seen as a slut than someone who would fuck the man who'd killed his father), but Sylar and his damn lie detection ability saw right through him.

Mohinder felt himself scowl as Sylar pressed fierce kisses onto his heated neck. He knew that he would be trapped like this forever. Now that Sylar knew that he was able to conceive and carry a child to term, the serial killer would aim to keep him pregnant for as long as possible. After all, the man still very much believed that he was the next step in human evolution, and a natural part of evolution is producing offspring to carry on your genetic code. Even if Sylar were practically "immortal" thanks to Claire's ability, it wasn't unimaginable that one day someone would come along and make an honest to God attempt to kill him and finally find his damn "off switch." Having children was just another way to insure his legacy.

"Don't bother me," Mohinder growled, pushing away from the taller man irritably. "I've had a long day."

Sylar only smiled wickedly at him. "Well then let's just go home and I can rub those feet of yours."

The geneticist pouted as he allowed himself to be led away by the ex-murderer. As much as he hated Sylar and his obsession with him, he had to admit, the man gave a fantastic foot massage.

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Pairing: Gabriel/Mohinder
Rating: G
Prompt/Request: Hey, there! Can I get some Mohinder/Mylar kid!fic? Meaning that either through adoption or mpreg, they are raising a child together. Thanks!
Warnings: Fluff, Implied Mpreg

Gabriel smiled as he placed the blue stuffed elephant just out of the baby's chubby brown hands. His son gurgled and cooed as he tried in vain to reach for the offered toy. Gabriel wouldn't let him have it just yet, not until he got what he wanted.

"Papa has a present for you," he cooed, shaking the elephant so it looked like it was dancing in mid-air. "Do you want it, Kavi? Do you want the elephant?"

Kavi babbled, leaning forward and stretching his fingers until they just barely touched the soft fabric of the elephant's foot before Gabriel quickly pulled it away. The man watched with mild amusement as the infant's button nose scrunched up in displeasure, even at less than a year old the child was just like his other father.

Gabriel laughed wrapping an arm around Kavi and cradling him at his side. "I'll give you Dumbo," he began playfully. "If you say 'Papa.' Can you say 'Papa?'"

"Gabriel!" an outraged voice suddenly called, causing the pale man to flinch nervously. "Are you honestly trying to bribe the baby into talking?"

Gabriel bowed his head sheepishly. He could almost feel Mohinder's brown eyes burning holes in his back. "Can't blame me for trying," he mumbled. "Besides, I just want to hear his first words."

He practically heard Mohinder rolling his eyes in annoyance as he walked up beside him, snatching the elephant doll from his limp fingers and gently placing it within Kavi's grasp. The baby beamed up at Mohinder, as he clutched his new playmate to his chest, suckling a floppy ear between his lips.

"He'll talk when he's ready to talk," Mohinder chided, rapping Gabriel playfully on the head before walking out of the room.

Gabriel frowned, adjusting Kavi's weight in his arms as he lifted himself off of the ground, following Mohinder into the kitchen. "What if he doesn't talk in time?" Gabriel pushed. "What if he doesn't learn how to walk on time either? He could fall behind all the other children. He'll have to take special classes and be ridiculed by the other students. He won't get into a good college, or get a good job, and he'll end up living at home with us forever and-"

"Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?" Mohinder laughed, his eyes never leaving the cutting board in front of him. "You're turning into your mother!"

The taller man frowned, although he knew that his partner was right. Fatherhood certainly had turned him into a fretful parent. His mind seemed to constantly fill with fears over injuries, infections, drugs, gangs, violence on TV, sex on TV, and hip hop music. He never would have guessed that having a child would turn him into such a worrier.

"I can't help it," he shrugged, bouncing the infant on his hip. "I just want what's best for him."

Mohinder sighed, peeling his eyes away from his task to meet his lover's troubled gaze. "He'll have the best," the Indian man assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "He has us to love him. That's all that matters. Now stop worrying. Here. Let's trade places."

Gabriel easily slipped the baby into his partner's carefully arms, watching as Kavi kicked his legs happily, his little fists never releasing their hold on his blue elephant. The man smiled as Mohinder kissed their son's soft brown curls and whispered tender words to him in Tamil. He was just about to pick up the knife and continue chopping up the vegetables for dinner, when suddenly a small voice caught his attention.

"Mama."

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Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13
Prompt/Request: Can I get some mpreg breastfeeding? I really like Mylar or Petrellicest, but any other pairing is fine. Thanks!
Warnings: Mpreg, Language, Spoilers for Season 3, Man breastfeeding!

Mohinder gasped, squirming uncomfortably as tiny little lips continued to suckle hungrily on his swollen nipple. When his body had mutated nearly a year ago, he had thought that the unsightly scales and the near blinding agony that would periodically shoot through his body had been the worst of his side effects. Little did he realize that there was a change going on inside of him as well.

It was nearly four months after he had found a "cure" for his deformity -- and had allowed Sylar to fuck him out of pure desperation and loneliness right in the middle of his lab in Pinehearst -- that he discovered that he was pregnant. Five long and difficult months later, Sylar had reappeared -- very much alive and "rehabilitated" -- and Mohinder had given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

The two men had eventually agreed to live together, so that Sylar could have a hand in raising their child and so Mohinder could monitor Sylar's progress. Their living situation was awkward at the best of times and violent at the worst. Yet, much to Mohinder's dismay, the two began to slowly fall into a routine and began behaving like a married couple. Sylar would clean, Mohinder would cook, and they would both take turns fussing over the baby. Although, the majority of the baby related duties fell to Mohinder since he was the "mother," and as such the baby took comfort in his presence more than anyone else's.

Yet never in all his years would he have ever imagined himself breastfeeding. Breastfeeding! Of all the side effects that had come with his experiment, this one had to be the strangest. He had suspected as much when he began to notice the way his chest had started to feel very soft and tender during his pregnancy, but he hadn't expected to actually be able to nurse his child!

But Sylar had insisted, arguing that breast milk would be healthier for their daughter than any artificial formula would be. Mohinder had reluctantly agreed, only to discover that Sylar was actually aroused by the sight of him nursing their child. Mohinder wasn't surprised really. Sylar had been a virgin far too long, and as a side effect, everything Mohinder did seemed to turn him on.

Sylar was practically purring as he came up behind the Indian man, wrapping his lips around the juncture of his neck and began to suck down fiercely on his sensitive skin.

The geneticist grimaced at the usually arousing act. He felt like he was being pulled in two different directions with his daughter on one end, staring up at him sleepily begging for him to make "Daddy" go away so she could finish feeding in peace and Sylar on the opposite end, running his tongue temptingly over his skin, pleading with him to put their child to bed so they could "play." It was easy for him to choose which one to give in to.

"Stop it," he snapped, taking his free hand and shoving Sylar away. "You know it upsets the baby when you do that."

"Is it really the baby that's upset or 'Mommy'?" Sylar teased, pressing himself closer to his lover and running his hands over the geneticist's tense shoulders.

"Don't start with me!" Mohinder warned. His hormones were still acting up, but fortunately he was more irritable than weepy. He'd rather rage than cry.

"I can finish with you if you want," he grinned kissing the shell of his lover's ear. "Just put little Kanti to bed."

"She just started feeding!"

"Well when you're done," he purred, giving Mohinder's ear a loving flick with his tongue, "you know where to find me." With that, the serial killer disappeared into their shared bedroom. Mohinder frowned. He was going to make sure to punish him for being such a distracting tease.

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Pairing: Peter/Claude
Rating: PG
Prompt/Request: Peter/Claude: Surprise Me.
Warnings: Angst, Mild Season 3 Spoilers

Peter felt his head jerk up in shock as Mama Cass began playing over his clock radio. The young man let out a frustrated groan as he studied the glowing red digits that told him it was time to get up and get ready for work. Another day of tending to the sick and injured in the back of a bumpy ambulance. Wonderful.

He scowled as he pressed the snooze button roughly, interrupting the artist's song about how things were "getting better." His back popped pleasently as he stretched himself out across the large bed, hoping to clear the sleepy fog his mind was still wrapped in. It started to fade away when he remembered that he shouldn't be able to move around quite so freely. He frowned, propping himself up on his elbows as he studied the empty room.

Confused, the paramedic slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of boxers before stumbling into the living room. He was only mildly surprised when he saw that the television had been left on with only a hand full of empty beer bottles to keep it company. Peter yawned, searching the messy room with blurry eyes for the remote. When he couldn't locate it, he carefully walked over to the television -- being mindful not to step on the throw pillows tossed carelessly to the ground or the once neatly placed books that had been knocked to the floor -- and pressed the power button.

"I was watching that."

He practically lept out of his skin when the gruff voice suddenly greeted his ears. Spinning around on his heels, he was genuinely surprised to see that Claude had suddenly emurged from the guest bathroom. He was over joyed to see that he was still there, but a knot of worry began to form inside of him when he noticed that the other man looked as if he were getting ready to go.

"I'm sure you were," Peter laughed quietly, tossing his hair out of his eyes as he headed towards the kitchen. "Wanna stay for breakfast? My waffle iron's still busted, but I could make us some square pancakes and call them waffles."

Nathan had taught him that trick, back when the word "fun" was still in his vocabulary. The young man quickly gathered the necessary tools, mindful that he didn't really have the time to make breakfast for himself let alone Claude, but he just wanted him to stay a little while longer.

"Nah, some other time," Claude grumbled, adjusting his coat as he slowly headed towards the door. "I'm off."

"Yeah, because you really need to get an early start on harashing people and talking to pigeons."

Peter felt his cheeks flush as the older man turned to glare at him. He had spoken the words louder than he'd intended, but he didn't really care. He had just wanted one morning where he could wake up with Claude still around. He didn't understand why the other man always had to leave. What was the point of even coming back if they only saw each other at night?

The British man straightened his back as he came towards him as if he had something important to say, but no words left his lips. Instead, he just gave his shoulders an awkward pat and walked away. Peter frowned when he heard the door open and close, wondering if it would do him any good to just change the locks.