bakerstreet | Alpha/Beta/Omega Meme

Alpha/Beta/Omega Meme

THE 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).

RESOURCES:
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!

ROLES:
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.

SITUATIONS:
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!

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"S'good," Merlin pants, hips rocking into Arthur's touch. Good doesn't even begin to cover it. He's never really understood the appeal of having someone else touch him in a way he could just as easily touch himself, but this is extraordinary - the unexpected movements, the wet warmth, the sheer newness of Arthur's hand on him.

"It's incredible, Arthur. You're incredible."

He doesn't so much kiss him as he just mouths helplessly at the other man's lips.

"I want to see you naked."

And it's just as well that the last traces of tonic in his blood give him the self-control not to immediately make that ambition a reality. He's fairly sure that Arthur wouldn't be able to take in stride his being a sorcerer on top of everything else.

"Okay."

Deep breath. He reaches down to the cabinet to rummage through a nearby drawer.

"It can help to just feel...full," he says haltingly. What is his life, that he's trying to stop a mid-heat Omega from running out into the street naked and begging for anyone who'll take him? "It can make the need feel less urgent."

And he's not going to feel guilty or perverted for owning toys intended for an Omega's use. The black dildo he fishes out of the drawer is about his own girth and length, Alpha average, the knot inflated by way of a pump attached with a slim tube.

Merlin's approval has Arthur tingling from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Pleasing him is paramount: Arthur strokes with renewed vigour as Merlin pants; as his mouth twists; dimly realising that if this is how he had to spend the rest of his life? He'd probably die happy. Happy and pleasuring his Alpha—because there's no denying that Merlin is his—but then he's murmuring against his lips and Arthur slows his eager stroking.

"You've seen me naked before," he points out, but not in disobedience. There's a reluctant little whine as he lets go of Merlin's prick, but then he's tearing himself out of his clothes without half a thought for princely finesse. His shirt goes first, then his boots and socks, finally followed by his sticky trousers and smalls, until he's standing there before Merlin looking flushed and tousled and eager.

The pheromones in his sweat are impossible to ignore. Arthur can smell the sex on himself: it's a sweet, yielding scent that lures the Alphas out to mate, and he's been repressed for so long that they're diffusing stronger than ever.

"Well?" He moves back into Merlin's space, licking over his jaw; nibbling at his lips. The touch of skin against skin has him moaning softly into his mouth. "Please ... please, Merlin. Just—touch me."

Anywhere.

It's true. He's seen him naked plenty of times before, dozens, but this is different. Arthur's not just physically naked now but exposed, bared to his gaze and his touch in every conceivable way. And that scent...God help him, but he doesn't know how the entire castle can't smell it. How they're not stirring on the far walls and the outlying villages.

Though if anyone came sniffing around his Omega right now, Merlin feels like he'd take their head with his bare hands. And he's got better uses for those right now.

His movements are barely conscious. He grips the nape of Arthur's neck with one long hand, fingers biting into the soft skin there, and he turns Arthur around to push him down on his belly on the bed. It feels like the best place for him. Inherently right.

"Stick your arse out," he says, his own words barely registering with him. "I want to put my mouth on you."

"It's a bouncy bed." Clint shrugs laughing brightly a sheen of sweat on his skin already. "and no... and thank fuck I'm not 12." He grins a little watching Phil undress he bites his lip and shakes his head a little trying to keep his head clear for a little longer.

"Come on Phil..."

Regulus might wonder later on why an Alpha would have an Omega sextoy but at that moment, such details were irrelevant.

Just the sight of the toy, the length and shape of it, made Regulus shudder with want.

"Yes," Regulus breathed and crawled closer to Emrys as the toy.

"Take it slowly, alright?" Merlin says, already knowing that it'll fall on deaf ears as he offers him the toy. Regulus is far past the point of being able to exercise caution. "And make sure it's all the way in before you start with the pump. You've never - the knot might hurt you."

The possessive grip at the base of his neck weakens Arthur at the knees. He's never felt owned before, never felt like giving himself to someone before, but when Merlin turns him and pushes him down it's all he can do not to whine in the sheets. He feels open and spread and good knowing that his manservant is there behind him; that he'll take care of him, give him what he needs while taking what he needs in return.

He's sweating now, and his hair is a little darker around his temples. It takes a moment for Merlin's instruction to register: Arthur opens his thighs and lifts up a little, most of his weight going through his elbows, and his breath hitches just barely as cool air tickles over his hole. He's never lain like this before, even when pleasuring himself with his fingers in the dead of night.

This is all for Merlin.

"Like this?" Arthur looks back over his shoulder. He wants to see him; wants to watch Merlin enjoy the feast of his body; and then when he puts his mouth on him ...

The prince moans, arching out further to entice his Alpha closer.

"Come on."

Regulus nodded, taking the toy and moving back to the center of the bed.

He studied the toy a moment, turning it in his hands. It was bigger than he'd thought it be, considering where it was meant to be going.

Regulus finally leaned down and reached between his legs and tried to press the toy into himself. It took a few adjustments for him to line it up right. He gasped softly as the toy finally began to sink into his aching hole, the feeling of being filled - even by someone as unnatural feeling as the toy - was amazing.

"When I'm ready," he snaps, and it's all Alpha, precious little Merlin in his voice. He wants to take the time to admire Arthur's body: the gleam of sweat, the dip in his spine, the spread of those strong thighs exposing the slick pink of his hole.

He feels himself gripped by an impulse to simply mount him that's almost overwhelming, but - no. He can't. He still doesn't entirely know what this is, how long it's going to last - is Arthur just using him to experience something he never thought he'd get to taste? Will he be back on the tonic, tomorrow?

Merlin can only afford to focus on the moment, and take everything he can get. Enjoy this to its fullest.

He spreads Arthur's cheeks apart with his palms, breathes deeply in the sweet earthy scent of the wet leaking out of him, and then leans in to drag his tongue over the swollen rim of his hole.

He had long since promised not to read Arthur's thoughts unless it was some kind of dire circumstance, but he couldn't help but catch the shape of them, especially with Arthur so adamantly trying not to think about something.

That, of course, made Charles curious, but he wasn't going to push, he knew all about not wanting to think about things when it came to family. So he just nodded once, shifting the notebook he'd been given to the crook of his arm, "You can always call me if you need to vent. I'm always good for an ear, don't worry about the time."

He offered a hand then, "I'll see you in a few days then, good luck."

Merlin's mouth feels dry. His cock is aching. He can almost taste Regulus' sweat on his tongue. It'd be so easy to pull the thing out of his arse and mount him, he wouldn't say no -

He couldn't say no, and that's what stops him. Maybe he's being old-fashioned but he feels like an Omega's first time ought to be down to more than a chance encounter.

"How is it?" he says quietly, his voice thick and wrecked.

Arthur's cock twitches against his belly when Merlin snaps back at him, but again, it's enough to put him in his place for the time being. He'd never thought that he'd be able to find enjoyment in submission, but in this, with Merlin there, Arthur can't imagine anything other than giving himself to him. The easy spread of his cheeks reaffirms those hazy thoughts: Arthur's hole twitches, more wetness leaking to make it slippery and glossy;

"Gods, Merlin!"

But it ends on a low whine of pleasure as his rim flutters against Merlin's tongue. He fists the sheets and presses back, shameless in his begging for more, and who would have ever thought that something so dirty feel so completely bone-deep good?

"Please ... please ..." Because what more is there to say? Begging has never seemed so natural, and Arthur needs more of his tongue. His fingers. His cock. Anything to fill up the space inside him that's been waiting for an Alpha ...

No. Waiting for Merlin.

Regulus leaned down until his shoulders were pressed against the mattress and both hands were tucked between his thighs, trying to push the toy in deeper without losing his grip on it.

He moaned in response, only really aware that he was being spoken to but not quite what the words were.

All that mattered was the feeling of the toy going into him.

Merlin moans against Arthur's skin. He's never heard anything as good as his pleading; everything about Arthur's body language is desperation and hunger and he wants to breathe it in, soak in it, make Arthur's his so that hunger will always be his to satisfy--

He wants to knot him, bite him, bond him.

He knows he's getting a long way ahead of himself.

Putting his mouth on Arthur's hole doesn't feel dirty. The heat has turned it into something else, a completely sexual orifice, wet and inviting. He presses his lips tight to his rim and pushes his tongue into him, tasting the thick sweet scent of his copious wetness. He reaches down with one hand to play with Arthur's cock almost as an afterthought, feeling it hard and hot in his fist.

"It's okay," Merlin say, voice terribly thin. He doesn't expect Regulus to be thinking especially rationally, right now. "The base is flared, you can't - lose it."

He knows he's walking a narrow line here, but he can't stop himself from reaching out to take Regulus' wrist in his hand and slowly push the remaining length inside him, making his body swallow up the (currently, almost unnoticeable) swelling of the knot.

Merlin's moans reverberate through Arthur to puddle heat behind his balls, and he squirms there against the sheets as he gives more and more of himself to his Alpha. He can't wait to feel him pressed over him, mounting him, using him and filling him up ... but gods, that would mean ending this, and he's not sure he ever wants to.

Of course, nothing could quite prepare him for the sudden press of Merlin's tongue inside him. His eyes snap wide before closing tightly as he sobs into fine-spun sheets, his thighs trembling either side of Merlin with the effort of keeping him up. He'd thought his rim impossibly sensitive but this, this is torture, and a second later he's moving to keep his cheeks held open with his own hands. It's inappropriate and obscene but so, so right: Arthur makes an offering of himself in the most intimate way possible.

Dizzy with need, he hisses sharply when clever fingers fondle his cock. He'd almost forgotten it—his pleasure seems almost entirely within his hole—but a bead of pre-come pearls at the tip all the same as Merlin plays with it.

Regulus arched his back and moaned loudly. He pressed back against the toy, still trying to force it in deeper, his breath coming in sobbing moans.

"Please," He chanted softly, pressing his upper body against the mattress, offering himself up. "Please..."

Merlin catches it on his fingertips, smearing that hot translucence over the sensitive tip of Arthur's prick. It feels small in his hand compared to his own but it's perfect, it feels right and it fits into his curled fingers so beautifully that he's never ever going to want to touch anyone else this intimately. It's a thought that lodges in his heart and he knows it's not just the momentary infatuation of a first time.

Arthur's not just the first Omega who happened to ask. He's his.

"You taste amazing," he says when he lifts his head, voice hoarse but softened with something like awe, and he notices for the first time that Arthur's holding himself open wide for him. It's good; now he can use both hands, fondling his balls and rubbing his thumb along the tight smooth skin between his sac and his arse. "You're amazing, Arthur, I can't - "

Can't stop. Would probably choose not to, if he could. He shifts up onto his knees and covers Arthur's body with his own, bearing down on Arthur with his modest weight and pressing his face into the sweat-damp nape of his neck.

His mouth waters. He wants so badly to bite but he resists (for now, the voice of his Alpha grumbles), restricting himself to sucking hard enough to leave a bruise.

Arthur bemoans the loss of Merlin's tongue privately when he finally pulls away, lust-drunk on how good it felt to be kissed so intimately. He hears him talking, soft and ragged, and it stirs something low in Arthur's chest; so much so that when he moves over him he reaches back to catch one of his hands in his own. An anchor. They're in this together, and gods, it is amazing, it's all he needs.

He stretches languorously beneath him when Merlin settles, their bodies flush. Taking his weight is easy—Arthur is strong—but more than that, it's a pleasure, and he's all but purring as he arches his arse to rub back against his crotch. He's soaked between his cheeks both from his own wetness and Merlin's mouth; it's perfect, how it should be, how he should always be for Merlin.

Wet and ready.

Lips brush over the nape of his neck. Arthur squeezes Merlin's hand hard, torn between stopping him and encouraging him to bite, but then his Alpha makes the decision for him by setting his mouth against him and sucking. It's cruel, so very cruel for him to tease them both like this, in a parody of something Arthur's never wanted more. He shivers beneath him, spreading his thighs wider for Merlin's body.

"Merlin," he gasps, his own lips red from where he's bitten them. Arthur glances back over his shoulder, his eyes black and soft and pleading. He wants to feel Merlin's teeth; he wants a taste, even if he can't have it. "Merlin, I need— harder."

[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?

[Alpha, Beta, Omega. Itempas, Enefa, Nahadoth. Male, Female, something of both. Before he had his own soul, before anything else, he was and is the shape of Nahadoth's body.

He dresses butch, he carries himself like an alpha, like someone with power. He stomps in heavy boots and glares and growls when he isn't lounging and smirking. He owns a bar that isn't explicitly queer - mostly just classy and kinky and low-key - but it isn't not, either, and there aren't bouncers because he likes hauling overbearing alphas outside and dumping them in the gutter personally.

He could force his body to be a different shape, but it's draining, it feels off and unbalanced. This one resonates with him on some level he doesn't get a choice in, comes to him naturally. He has learned, grudgingly, with hard eyes and sharp smiles and rough knuckles, to be more at home in it than he once was.

It's not a busy time when Malak walks in, the air sifting slow jazz and smoke and softer conversation, and Hado is the alone behind the bar. It's only Malak's fourth visit, but he ordered the same drink on all three previous occasions. He hefts an empty glass and lifts an eyebrow inquiringly.]

The usual?

[ The first time he was here, it was a whim. Malak doesn't go to bars. He doesn't like bars. Crowds and sweat and discomfort and noise rising to the level of actual physical intrusion - what's to like? But the worst has to be the alphas. He detests, particularly, above all other, the kind of alpha who goes out certain that they will have sex before the night is through, and willing to make that happen if it doesn't fall from the sky. If they ever have consensual sex, it's a coincidence.

But that day, stepping in and taking a somewhat pedestrian vodka cranberry, he'd watched as an alpha that got too handsy was dragged outside and dropped unceremoniously onto the sidewalk. It had so intrigued him that he'd come back. And again. And now, again. He didn't know what to order the last two visits, kept a little shy, turned down everyone who'd come close.

And now he leans in on his elbows, appreciating, again, that this is a bar that is different. ]

What do you like?

[ Because he only ordered the same because of - habit. Reflex. Ordinarily, he pushes past his boundaries a little better. ]

Scotch.

[He says it dryly, a little surprised, distinctly amused, but not mocking. He's aware of the ways in which he is a bit of a cliché, for all that he also likes it.]

Feeling adventurous today?

[It's warm and playful and not even slightly (perhaps very, very slightly) innuendo; it's just salesmanship.]

Merlin looks a mess, face flushed, sweat plastering his hair to his brow, pupils huge and dark and yet he looks and feels more focused than he's ever been. There's nothing else in the world that matters in the least beyond the corners of this bed; an army could march on the Citadel and Merlin feels like he would just destroy them with a wave of the hand so he could go back to bed. Back to Arthur.

Yet he has to give himself a moment to think when Arthur speaks. Harder means teeth, and he isn't sure that he can stop himself going all the way (do it, bond him, claim him, who can really stop you taking what you want?) Finally he just presses a kiss to the bruise he's left.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. But an apology's not enough, he wants to distract him, and to do that he pulls back a little so he can push three long fingers into the drooling wetness of Arthur's hole.

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Alpha/Beta/Omega Meme

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6 because the idea wouldn't leave me alone

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