dinosize: (Default)
Stephen Hart ([personal profile] dinosize) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2013-12-07 03:36 pm

Alpha/Beta/Omega Meme


In our world, sexual roles are commonly defined by genders -- male or female or other, by sexualities -- gay or straight, bi or asexual or in-between. But what if they were defined by something else entirely? 

Alpha/Beta/Omegaverse is a fusion of fanfiction tropes and animalistic behavior. In this world, sexual roles are divided into three categories: the Alphas (the dominant, the protective and the aggressive), the Betas (ordinary humans) and the Omegas (submissive, fertile and able to carry children).
Fanlore on the Alpha/Beta/Omegaverse 
Alphas, Betas and Omegas: A primer.
CONTENT WARNING: Below the cut contains descriptions of animalistic sexual behavior as applied to humans, situations of dubious consent, explicit situations, mpreg, and scenarios of societal oppression. Click with caution! 

1 - The Alpha.
* Stereotypically type A personalities.
* Anatomically: Males have a penis; females may have a penis in addition to a vagina.
* Alphas knot their mates, meaning that the base of the penis swells and locks them inside their mate while they produce copious amounts of semen in an effort to breed. 
* Strong sense of smell.
* Near an Omega in heat, they experience a compulsion to mate that is almost impossible to overcome.
* Alphas may go into rut, which is their equivalent of Omega heat, and drives them to mate. 

2 - The Beta. 
* Ordinary human being.
* Males have penises; females have vaginas. 
* Can mate to anyone. 
* Might be able to smell hormones of Omegas and Alphas, but will not be overwhelmingly affected by them. 

3 - The Omega. 
* Stereotypically submissive, quiet, intelligent and less physically able.
* Female anatomy is similar to Betas; males are self-lubricating and may have either an external or internal vaginal setup. 
* Regularly go into heat, which involves being overcome by the urge to mate. They are unable to consent while in heat. 
* May be made compliant by a bite to the neck. However, that may also induce a mating bond. 
* Often regarded as second-class citizens or prizes to be won. 

1 - Bonding - Love at first sight. You've spotted your soulmate. You can smell them, you can feel them, you know that they'll be with you until the end of your days. Unless there's something between the two of you. It could be age - maybe one of you has to wait until the other has reached maturity. It could be that the bond is one-sided, and the other has yet to fall in love. It could be an unwanted bond, or society could have divided you into different places. Is your love strong enough to conquer? 

2 - Heat/Rut - The need is coming on you strong. Everyone for a half-mile around can smell it. Better find someone to ride it out with, or hole yourself up in a room with a few bottles of water and a durable sex toy. And you'd better hope that there isn't someone out there who will take advantage of your pliable state. Best case scenario, there might be a Beta who can take care of you, or fend off anyone too predatory. 

3 - Pregnancy - Whether through a heat or not, you're pregnant. Congratulations - or condolences. Is it time to start a family, or time to start panicking? 

4 - Suppressants - You're using suppressants to keep yourself on an even hormone cycle, skipping heats, or maybe pretending to pass as a different class of society. After all, Omegas might want to be in the military, where they're not usually allowed - or an Alpha might want to take a job in a university or as a nurse. Shouldn't they be allowed to, if their hormones are suppressed? Just hope that you don't miss a dose. 

5 - Mistaken Identity - That friend that you always thought was an Alpha, or an Omega, or a neutral Beta, turns out to be something entirely different, and your world is turned absolutely upside down. Does it challenge your preconceptions? Or does it just ruin the balance between you two? 

6 - Unlikely Pairs - After all, there's no actual reason that Alphas have to mate with Omegas. Maybe two Omegas can satisfy each other. Or two Alphas. Or your intended mate could easily be a Beta. Maybe this is just about breaking out of your pre-established role and becoming something new.

7 - Manifestation - In some cases, an individual may not know they are Omega, Beta or Alpha until their first heat/rut/manifestation, usually happening in early teen years. It may take you by surprise; it may be a blessing, or may be a deep disappointment.

8 - Other - Adventures in getting jobs, making families, fighting bad guys, and anything else you can come up with!
whysocirrus: (☇100)

cloud strife ☼ final fantasy vii

[personal profile] whysocirrus 2013-12-09 09:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ outwardly Alpha, inwardly Omega it'scomplicated.jpg. ota, but plot with me beforehand. ]
more_than_words: (died in love's battleground)

this is my hold for when I'm not so punchy

[personal profile] more_than_words 2013-12-09 10:07 am (UTC)(link)
more_than_words: (show me sunset and I won't forget)

[personal profile] more_than_words 2013-12-10 05:37 am (UTC)(link)
[The wolf inside her had been growling all day.

In the dark shadows and sickly green of the slums, a lot could slink past without notice because everyone knew better than to look too close, risking finding a white toothed greeting in the murk. Seventh Heaven was a little spot of light, gold and neon in the perpetual night, where the mugs were clean and the food was hot and the bar tender was an unthreatening Beta. If she'd been known to toss the occasional posturing Alpha out on their ass... no one asked where she got the physical or mental strength for it, just that what she had was enough and the world of predator and prey didn't intrude beyond the safety of those swinging doors. Seventh Heaven was a place to hide, even if only for a few hours, and pretend.

People in the slums were very, very good at pretending.

Tifa was one of the best.

Except the suppressants weren't strong enough anymore.

She could smell him. Even when he wasn't there, traces of him lingered, sharp ozone, ice crystals, summer rain. It drifted in the air, caught her when she wasn't ready for it, made her jaw lock and her lips fight to curl up over her teeth. She'd gotten very good at hiding what she was, very good at surviving off the black market, unbalanced meds that drugged the wolf inside her, changed its scent, made it hazy and slow. Made her hazy and slow feeling inside her head even though she'd learned to work around it, hide it. The wolf, her enemy, what she called it because it couldn't be her. It was a now long standing habit of survival to put it to sleep, put it down - but it was awake today. It had been waking up for the past few weeks, sharpening her senses, pacing restless inside her until she wanted to claw the walls, thrumming in her chest like a constant low purr and she refused to admit why. She would have taken more than the regular dose of suppressant but - she was scared of it. Scared because she'd seen what the second-rate drugs could do when it was an unlucky bad batch or when someone overdosed. She teetered on the edge of being desperate enough to risk it and common sense and today...

She blamed it on the strange Alpha that had entered her bar. She was used to Alphas, she lived with two under her roof now and she was very practiced, even before Barret and then Cloud, at being a Beta, used to side-stepping their unconscious attempts to trigger her, set her off and trap her into giving away what she was - but this Alpha had been on the hunt, and no drug in the world could have tamped down the scent of it, the way it altered his body language. She'd known he was going to be trouble and she had so badly wanted to get into a fight already. The insides of her gloves had been scratched to hell with the clench of her fists this past week and the restless picking of her nails.

Everything about the strange Alpha had been a challenge to her. And the saying went that there was nothing more dangerous than a First Alpha guarding her family den. They'd been nose to nose, him snarling, her still silent and seconds away from the kind of no holds barred, bloody fight Tifa had been craving to try to shut the horrible restlessness inside of her up, when Barret and the rest of the team had gotten back.

It wasn't often AVALANCHE saw an Alpha threatening their quiet, homebody Beta.

They took care of him and Tifa retreated behind the bar, secret still safe and the wolf inside howling at being denied its right to assert its dominance. She barely managed apologies when the rest of the bar cleared out almost immediately afterward, knowing there were times this particular group of thugs were dangerous to be around. Tifa locked her jaw until she thought it was going to crack as Barret blustered at her about the dangers of what hunting Alphas could do to a pretty Beta if there weren't any Omegas to distract them and managed the mollifying gestures and words she knew would get him to stop.

- and the whole time she could smell him, that cracking, ice fissure, wild scent of him, past Barret's more familiar musk and the fainter scents of gun oil, food grease and sharp bites of fried circuits. Her fingers were leaving dents in the metal beer mug she was holding by the time Barret summoned the team below and she shut her eyes, hearing the tromp of boots, trying to be still, trying to hold the wolf down, trying, her hardest, to listen for the retreating sound of his boots and get herself a moment of reprieve. She tried to pull in a deep breath and it trembled. Just go. Take that storm scent with you and just go, just go, justgojustgojustgogogogo.]
whysocirrus: (take wing on the balmy breeze)

[personal profile] whysocirrus 2013-12-11 06:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ It'd been a long day. Made longer by the company, maybe, but it wasn't like he could afford to drop this job. Although there wasn't exactly a lot of competition in the market for an Alpha playing mercenary (let alone one mako-infused and ShinRa trained), the idea was one a good deal more self-defeating than he'd expected, coming back to Midgar. The days of restrained beasts in SOLDIER uniforms carrying any sort of weight other than that which brought fear and disdain had long since passed; even their relative peers gave the remaining dregs of that once great military force a wide berth. They were rabid dogs among wolves, and on top of that, he was one who'd turned traitor - and terrorists were the only ones with little enough sense to hire him on.

After Tifa had vouched for him.

Barret wouldn't have given him a second look but to shoot him dead on the spot, without her interference, and the feeling was more or less mutual. They made it look more or less mutual. Half of all Alpha social niceties came down to posturing, not-so-nice in practice, and they'd been at each others' throats. Snapping and snarling and acting in general as if they'd be better suited to a pair of chains on stakes out back, tied down just far enough away that neither could actually get at the other. And that made working together about as easy and neat an operation as one would expect - a kind of grudging respect was all that really kept them from forgetting their momentary accord, Cloud's contract, the few beneficial aspects to keeping him around, and any other sense of reason and camaraderie left.

The day had been long, and now it was well into the night - though it was only ordinary for the better part of AVALANCHE's off-base operations to roll back in (full of tension, an anvil cloud waiting to break the storm) well after Seventh Heaven's usual rush hour. The customers were mostly regulars, mostly just as fed-up with ShinRa as the rest of them, down here in the Slums, but that didn't make it no big to just go parading around in a pack, all armed and dangerous. Even this way, people still knew - but they also knew it was serious enough to keep their mouths shut about it. Not to start trouble.

Judging by the weird scene in the bar, tonight, though, not everybody had gotten the memo.

Throwing the guy out wasn't all that hard; between himself and Barret (in a rare moment of unflinching agreement), there was enough cumulative strength to've tossed the wayward Alpha through the batwing doors and clear into the next Sector. But down the steps was good enough. ...In Cloud's opinion, anyway. His ears were still ringing faintly with the shock of warning gunfire from about three inches to his left as Barret called them all down to the basement.

In no particular hurry to listen to their fearless leader huff and puff downstairs, Cloud had begun to follow, retreating from the safety of loosely gathered tables on the other side of the bar and his vague, hovering concern on the other side of Tifa. And then stopped, held back by some lingering thought or - draw?

Writing it off as the mild appeal of avoiding the noisy wrap-up party one floor below, he turned and strode back to the bar. A drink, maybe. That'd settle the raw edge of his nerves.

Though it didn't look like he'd had it the worst, after all. ]

...Did he bother you that much?

[ Because that mug must've been ruined, by now, the way she was gripping it. And for a Beta - the ones who were supposed to be above it all, so unassuming - that was something. ]
more_than_words: (pic#7129220)

[personal profile] more_than_words 2013-12-12 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
[She'd always been a Beta. That little girl in the winter village, too sweet not to be a Beta. Even when she'd taken up martial arts, it had just been a pretty little Beta girl rebelling against society in an endearing and not particularly threatening way, a village full of people so sure they knew her that there was an excuse for everything. Zangan must have known, must have realized the growing strength of her blows, the force of her kicks as she matured weren't Beta levels but he'd never said anything and Tifa had been a happy Beta. Until that night of fire and blood when everything had changed and the wolf had risen up inside her with a fury that still scared her.

She'd tried everything since then to kill the wolf. All she'd ever managed was making to fall asleep. It wasn't interested in sleeping now. Not anymore.

She knew the sound of his stride. Just the same way she knew his scent. And there was nothing strong enough to deny the way the wolf roused for him. His voice was low and soft and throaty and it settled into her bones every time he spoke, until it was the sound the wolf wanted to hear always, soothing the restless ache and feeding it until she would have twisted herself into knots if it were only possible. She could feel him across from her without opening her eyes, picture him perfectly from the rustle of his pants, the creak of his leather harness, the shift of that metal sword against its magnet on his back. He came back to her, even though he was called elsewhere and it moved the wolf, made it... made her, want to dart over the bar, tangle fists in leather and cloth, pin him to the wall and press her face into his throat until she drowned in that scent and the beat of his life under the vulnerable skin.

Alpha Shinra SOLDIER and those damn high necked uniforms.]

I'm fine. [She had to open her eyes to make it sound like the truth but his eyes were open too and it was just forever falling down into ocean blue. The tang of salt air in the morning, like the docks she didn't remember when Zangan had brought her body to Midgar. You. She wanted to say it, finally confess it and end this but - you. You bother me. Drive me mad. Make my wolf howl and whimper and I want it to stop. I'm scared it will never stop.

I'm scared it will stop.

Don't be gentle and caring. Don't. My wolf wants to follow you to the end of the world and over already. Don't let it think of how good that sounds or how bad it wants that. Her hands twisted on the mug and threatened to twist it in half. Bite and taste and lick. Protect forever. Follow forever. She set the mug down and pushed it under the lip of the counter on her side so it was hidden. Her hands shook, wanting to be in his hair, tangled in his shirt, against his skin. She rested them flat on the counter so they couldn't move. Having him so close made everything better. Made it worse. She smiled at him, small, so it wouldn't show teeth and have the chance to become a snarl.]

How about - something to drink?
whysocirrus: (peel up off the street)

[personal profile] whysocirrus 2013-12-25 07:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ He watches her, carefully (almost cautiously), as she puts away the mug - hides it - and makes what even he can see is a poor attempt at reviving the usual normalcy she carries around this place. The quiet, unassuming Tifa that's always quick behind the bar and quicker to break up a fight is in there, somewhere, beneath the thin veneer of her presence this stiff and strange creature before him attempts to present. But he can understand that, or sympathize with it, if only from afar.

At least she isn't an omega. The scene here might've been just the same (she can defend herself, and it's pretty unlikely even such damning genetics would change that), but booting the guy out the door would've taken a lot more than just not-so-idle threats if he'd been looking for more than just a fight.

A drink is a fair compromise between going back downstairs and actually pursuing that particular thought down to its inevitably bleak, logical end, though, and he gives it up in favor of the bar. Something's up with her, but the only way Cloud knows to get information out of people is to squeeze - the only way he knows how to get anything. But that's also a good way to break them. And he knows enough, at least, to know not to try and break the things he's supposed to protect.

However empty the promises to do so might seem, now.

Sidling up to a seat at the counter, he nods, still watching her - though only out of the corner of his eye, now. ]

Give me something hard.
more_than_words: (and under wild blue skies)

[personal profile] more_than_words 2013-12-29 06:50 am (UTC)(link)
[She inhales his scent as he settles closer and it makes her restless, soothes her. She wants to circle him, wants to wind herself close and around and around him and just inhale that incredible smell, like an electric storm, forever. Instead she stays on her side of the bar, her side. The safe side. The touch of his eyes makes her skin hot, makes her feel more fluid, stronger. Inside her the wolf stretches because he's not looking directly at her anymore, not challenging her, but he's still watching and that feels good. That desire to circle, to nip with sharp white teeth strengthens but so does the heavy feeling of warmth in her stomach. She's content with him nearby, something she wasn't aware that she wasn't normally before he came.]

Something -

[A part of her, the part of her that's her wants to laugh. Wants to smile. Wants to shake her head at him and enjoy how horrible that was.

Wants to be that comfortable with him, that relaxed. Even her wolf likes to play except - Except he's still alpha and the second she lets go she knows the wolf in her will surge forward and she'll be alpha too and even a playful alpha is an obvious one. He'll know her in a second, in the flick of her hair, the tilt of her chin and she doesn't want to be alpha for him.

She does. She wants it bad enough her mouth goes dry.

She doesn't. She's not supposed to be an alpha. No one wants her the way she'd be as an alpha.

She turns away to the drink mixes he might not have even meant it to sound like that. he might have just meant it innocently. she'd look stupid if he hadn't and she laughed and he realized where her mind had gone and her mind never goes there but she sucks on her lower lip for a second before scooping up the right bottles, the familiar tactile feel of them helping steady her as she goes through the routine that doesn't even require thought, mixing the drink because that's her, that's Tifa, and she can do that without worry. This is who she is, not the wolf, and it's calming. It's Tifa, the beta, that says:]

I'm relieved you made it back safely.

[But it's the wolf inside her that has already gone over every inch of him, from where she is, safely behind her bar, with her eyes and sense of smell to know that he hadn't been hurt.]
whysocirrus: (☇010)

[personal profile] whysocirrus 2014-01-16 07:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ He looks at her again as she half-repeats what he said - (What?) written clear across his face.

But she's already turned away and inscrutable and he doesn't see anything funny (or that easy to misinterpret) in his answer, besides; it's a simple request in a bar this stocked (for a bar in the Slums), anyway.

So it drops, like so many other things between them, uncontested. And Cloud returns to his intensive study of the bartop, the water-stained, polished-unpolished wood between his gloved fingers. Beneath the creaky floorboards under his equally creaky barstool, he can already hear Barret battering away at that badly out of shape punching bag, bearing over the intermittent, idle chatter from the others - only catching snippets of the latter. Not very interesting.

But neither is the silence, up here, cut with the sharper sounds of drink mixing. ]

...What was he looking for, anyway? [ The alpha, of course. The reason the air's still thick with tension, in here, like the lingering afterimage of the night's collected smog (cigarette smoke and gunpowder and dirt - plus the constant scent of alcohol, sharp and bitter).

But it's curious to him, the more he turns it over in his head (for lack of something better). What another alpha would want, here, outnumber and with nothing to contest. Why anybody'd start with the fight and not the drink. ]
more_than_words: (pic#7129207)

[personal profile] more_than_words 2014-01-20 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
[In the dimmer light from behind the bar, her eyes flick up at his question, catch his reflection in the bits of polished metal and glass she fights so hard to keep clean in the silt of the slums. He's a distracting blur of gold and blue, blurred lines, oil on water and the palms of her hands tingle, hidden under the battered leather of her gloves. She goes still, perfectly motionless, frozen on the edge between springing and fleeing, caught by the answer.

Mate, she thinks and the wolf inside snarls its agreement. She hadn't been paying attention at the time, a night spent winding in and over herself again and again, waiting for her pack to return safely home, waiting for that scent of storm wind and mountain peaks to invade her senses again. She'd just known he was a threat, a challenge to her authority, her position, and she'd reacted. Subtly challenged and pushed and hoped, prayed, for a fight because of things that had dangerously little to do with his hunting in her territory. He'd been hunting for an omega though. Belatedly, now, forced to look at things, she recognizes the subtle tells, the other alpha's agitation, the flicker of his teeth too often, the restless, self-devouring energy. Her own jaw locks, a ingrained habit that keeps her from snarling. He'd come into her bar, her territory, looking for a mate. Into her own den in fact and suddenly she wishes she'd been able to get her hands on him for an entirely new reason, though, perhaps, that's something the wolf had recognized all along and tricked her into reacting to. Her bar is safe territory. Everyone in it is under her protection. They're hers for as long as they stay under her roof. And he'd thought he could claim one of them away.

It must have been a strong omega scent to have him risking something like that - or an intriguing one.

Tifa doesn't remember any strong omega scents from the night. Then again, her nose has only been interested in finding and following one absent scent all night long. The need to hunt the stranger down and lock him into submission is stronger than it should be. She recognizes that and she doesn't know why it feels so strong, so necessary suddenly now. It's not as if it's the first time an alpha's tried to bother one of her patrons. She's still in charge though, she's not her wolf. She's herself. Tifa. So she lets out a little breath between her lips and turns back to walk over to Cloud and the counter, setting the drink down in front of him and she gives the beta's answer:]

I'm sure it was nothing.
whysocirrus: (peel up off the street)

i'm the latest you should divorce me

[personal profile] whysocirrus 2014-03-11 09:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ He nods - the simple, grateful gesture that seems to encompass most of his interaction with the outside world, most of the time - and picks the glass up not a second after it's set down in front of him. Drains half of it at a go, his lips twisting in a faint grimace at the burn (maybe he should've asked for a shot, instead).

He knows all about Her Rules; they all do - nobody spends more than a night at Seventh Heaven and doesn't end up with the basic philosophy of the place written on the backs of their eyelids. ...Or the jaw, or the throat, if they're keener on getting the riot act version.

There's no fighting (unless it's Barret and him, that always seems to slip by), no screwing with other patrons (no matter what their status, genetic or otherwise), and nobody brings anything from Out There in with them. Unless it's more good news about the fight against ShinRa or another shady supply dump, that is. But those kinda go without saying.

So the guy was either new or stupid (or both). But that doesn't really explain what he'd come into a bar already looking for a fight for. Usually it takes a few before even the dumbest guys get all ambitious like that. ]

Must've been something. [ he says, so casual it probably bleeds intent. ] You're not taking in strays, again?

[ Because - present company aware and included - she does kind of have a habit. And that always spells trouble (Barret would back him up there, if on nothing else). ]
more_than_words: (gently nesting us to the fold)

not after that prenup you made me sign

[personal profile] more_than_words 2014-03-30 08:51 am (UTC)(link)
[She likes to listen to him talk. It's the sound of his voice, a low sound, somewhere between falling asleep drowsy comfort and a thrumming underground warning of a hot spring, often with rust hanging on the edges of it, as if he's just learning to use it again or as if it hasn't been his voice for long. She wishes he'd do it more... she's glad when he doesn't. It's the same as his scent, both maddening and deeply satisfying and there's always a second, an inhale, where she misses what he's said because she's been so busy listening to the silk and distant thunder of his voice.

So she's gotten very good at reading his tone (and his eyes, when he'll lift them and she can meet them without risking her alpha reacting) because his face so rarely gives anything away but his voice... his voice can tell entire stories in one sentence. Her lips press together and it's all she can do to keep from squirming because her skin's been too tight all night long and he's not helping and there's something spring loaded in her heels and the base of her spine that wants her to hurtle the bar between them and -

and she really isn't sure what it wants to do next but it's physical and the more he prods the harder it gets to sit on the urge. Except she's not going to do anything of the sort. She's going to stay on her side of the bar where she belongs and he's going to stay on his side where he belongs and he's going to drop the subject that was already under her skin before she blurts out alpha answers to alpha questions and gives herself away. Because the stranger had been driven hard enough by his wolf that he'd risked her bar, because the stranger had wanted someone so badly

the way I want you...

And she wasn't going to acknowledge that, even admit to it, much less outloud. And yet, it still leaks out despite herself as her fingers curve on the bar top and her wolf hides behind the wine of her eyes when they lift adding layers to a simple answer. Is he expecting a challenge to his position with her? Does he even have a position with her in his mind?]

Only you.