bakerstreet | A/B/O

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A/B/O

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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Okay, so, biological changes in magicians was a shock to Quentin, but it makes a certain amount of sense, right? They're basically channeling magic, real magic, so magic changing the body, it kind of has a logic. And there's worse things it could do than cause the body to create brand new sex characteristics, or at least that's what Quentin tells himself to forestall having a panic attack when he first went to the infirmary to get tested and was informed he showed the signs of becoming an omega. And he at least a few months while his body went through magical puberty to get his hands on as much literature as possible about the topic, which told him the process could take anywhere from 2-10 months, and his body would basically announce it was finished with the onset of his first heat.

Despite all the research, he hasn't even realized he's in pre-heat yet. Well, in his defense, he's only barely gotten a handle on his heightened sense of smell. Based on the average presentation, he shouldn't have to worry about his first heat for a month or two. So when he wakes up feeling ache-y and fatigued, he just assumes he's coming down with something.

"Hey." He glances up from the textbook he'd been reading, or at least trying to read because his concentration is kind of shot right now. There's also a neglected sandwich on the table that he'd forgotten he made for himself, so he's really 0 for 2 on being productive right now. "I'm, um, good." Does Eliot smell better than he usually does? Stronger? It's kind of hard to tell because he's still adjusting to basically having a totally overhauled sense of smell, but Jesus, it's kind of distracting. "Can you maybe show me what this spell is supposed to look like?" He twists the textbook around so it's facing Eliot. "There's a diagram, but I keep screwing up the movement and it's easier if I can just... see it."

Eliot leans in to see the spell in question, and then nods. "Sure. It's like this." Eliot lifts his hands, long fingers moving through the tics of the spell with ease. Eliot is a good magician, in spite of himself, sometimes.

Leaning in just makes that new scent stronger though, and Eliot has to grit his teeth to keep from rumbling an approving sound. "You should probably be resting, Quentin," he says with a touch of concern.

Quentin shouldn't be out in the general population if his heat's coming on. Not that people are animals who would jump him - but he's likely to get a lot of attention, there's a slightly higher percentage of alphas around than omegas, after all. And Eliot isn't at all trying to keep someone ELSE from grabbing Q's attention for themselves.

While Quentin’s intent in asking for Eliot’s help is to learn the spell, there’s a part of his brain that gets stuck on just watching the elegant movement of his fingers and, maybe, a little bit, wonder what else Eliot’s fingers are that graceful doing. Which is. Totally inappropriate, and when he catches himself at that, he shoves the thought in a box to be ignored until. Well, maybe when he has some privacy?

He just blinks at Eliot blankly at the suggestion, though, partly because he’s startled from his inappropriate thoughts and partly because he’s not sure where that came from. “It’s the middle of the afternoon…?” he points out. Yeah, he’s not feeling too great right now, but he didn’t think it was obvious or anything. He doesn’t think he looks any worse than usual, at least.

Eliot chuckles, though there's still a hint of concern in his expression. "Does everything smell stronger? Are you starting to feel too hot?"

Eliot reaches to brush fingers through Quentin's hair. "Sorry, Quentin, but I can smell that you're close to your first heat. There's always a first year who has it early, it looks like it's you this go-round."

"W-what? No, that's not - I should have a couple months at least. I just, I mean I'm not - " He was about to say developed enough, but well, technically he is? They weren't sure at his last physical if his body had changed enough to support a pregnancy, but as long as it can get the right hormones going, that doesn't mean it can't start having heats. That kind of uncertainty is part of why Lipson made a point of heavily recommending first heats not be spent alone, because the body could fuck up something and cook your brain, or, or it could go too long and without practice knowing how to take care of yourself, a new omega could come out of it with severe dehydration or malnourishment, or, Jesus -

His scent is pretty quickly turning bitter with anxiety. "I don't even have a heat partner arranged, this is - it's too early."

"Calm down. It's just a little soon, not completely unexpected," Eliot soothes. He slouches down a little to knock his knee against against Quentin's. "Baby's first heat is always unexpected and jarring. Rut's the same way for us. Let's step by step it. Where do you want to stay during? There's a heat room in each dorm, one in the main part of Brakebills, and one in the Cottage."

Where was the easier question than with who so Eliot skirted that for the moment. Even if the alpha in him was VERY eager to offer up himself, his knot, and anything else Q might want.

"Jesus, I don't - "

There's a whine building in his throat, and he swallows, trying to push it back down. This is ridiculous and embarrassing enough as it is, he doesn't need to add pathetic to the number of adjectives that could describe him right now. "Here, I guess? I don't, I don't really want to go anywhere right now." It feels more familiar and safer here, even if he's not necessarily going to be staying in his room. He'd spent a decent amount of time here, even before he officially moved in. "But, I, I'm supposed to check in with the infirmary if I don't have a heat partner? So they can keep an eye on me instead?"

The whine that he was desperately trying to smother actually comes out when he says that, because there are few things he can think of right now that are less appealing than going to a medical setting so Lipson or some other aide can make sure he doesn't die while he goes nonsensical with lust or whatever.

"All right. Here is good. We can get Lipson to check on you here instead. But there's another option. If you want, I'll help you through your heat." Eliot smiles wryly. "It goes a lot easier with an alpha to guide you through. If not me, I can go find whoever you want." Alice was a beta, since she'd come here already channeling magic and never changed excessively. Even if she was willing, she wouldn't really scratch the itch for Quentin. Not that it wasn't possible to get through without an alpha - it was just harder.

Quentin didn't deserve to have things be harder. "I'd keep you fed and hydrated and give you everything you need. Which yes, includes sex, but if you tell me not to on that point, I'll keep my hands and the rest of my anatomy to myself."

Well, that's. Fuck. That's. It's pity, right? It has to be pity that made Eliot offer. Quentin doesn't really know why Eliot's been friendly with him since he started at Brakebills, but apparently it extends to offering a pity fuck to the poor omega who got the short end of the biological stick and just admitted he doesn't know anyone who'd be willing to fuck him through this.

So he should definitely tell Eliot that the offer is appreciated, but he doesn't have to, just because is going to be alone. Except, Eliot is offering and he guesses it makes sense if going into heat makes your imagination extra filthy. But he mentions his hands and that just. His gaze drops to Eliot's hands again, and he might be kind of picturing what they'd feel like inside him?

He swallows. "You don't have to - to offer, just because you feel bad I don't know anyone who'd be willing to. Help me. Like that."

Eliot smiles. "Hey. I'm not that altruistic to offer if I didn't want to. You smell amazing right now, and you're cute and nerdy and I'd be happy to knot you until you're purring for me," he says, shameless as Eliot usually is.

It crosses his mind that it might be too much for Quentin, but Eliot usually doesn't think to dial down the volume on himself very often.

"You don't have to say yes. And there's plenty of others that would offer. Margo for one. So I'm not your only option," Eliot promises him.

Oh. Oh, that’s a new kind of dirty talk that he absolutely did not expect to work for him. He swallows again, as his scent - unbeknownst to him - sweetens again, betraying his interest in Eliot’s offer. Not that it would be difficult to tell anyway, from the way his skin flushes.

“I’d, I’d like that if you’re sure it’s not just. Pity.”

Eliot brushes a hand through Quentin's hair again. "Too selfish for pity fucks. I've basically been stalking you since you got here. Your eyes just went blondeward, so you didn't notice. Trust me, it's not pity."

He smiles at Quentin and then drops his hand from his hair, reaching for Quentin's hand instead. "Come on, we'll get you in the Heat room and I'll make sure it's stocked and fix you something to eat before we lock down." Eliot likes cooking for his friends anyway, but the impulse ramps up around an omega in heat. (Or a pregnant omega, which Eliot found out when he'd met one at a Brakebills alumni event and Eliot had wanted to trail her around and offer her finger food all night.)

His eyes flutter shut for a moment, and he drifts forward into Eliot's touch. He hasn't had long enough to get used to his instincts, which are currently singing with pleasure that he's acquired an alpha to take care of him, to feed him and keep him safe. Which is. New. (Okay, Quentin's always been on the subby side, so maybe it's not entirely new, but this is still pretty strange.)

"I. Thank you. I don't - " Are his eyes tearing up? Jesus. Okay, he knows heats are supposed to fuck with your hormones and emotions and stuff, and he doesn't know how to feel about that. "Thanks."

Eliot's inner alpha preens a bit at how Quentin moved toward him. He tugs Quentin to his feet and then presses a kiss to the top of his head. "You don't have to thank me. I intend to enjoy this." With Eliot not in rut, he might have to work to keep up, but that was a sacrifice he was thoroughly ready to make.

"I'm thinking breakfast food. Waffles and eggs and some fruit? It's quick to make and should last a while. Sound good?" Eliot asks, draping his arm across Quentin's shoulders and steering him toward the kitchen. If the move also mingled their scents and staked a temporary, obvious claim then, well, it wasn't his ONLY intention. He knew Quentin would likely appreciate the contact right now, so he had a good reason too.

It's very easy to let himself curl into Eliot's side and enjoy the way it makes his new instincts purr with contentment. It's really nice to have his brain and body pointing him towards good feelings for once, especially when he was panicking not that long ago. This whole omega thing is still weird as fuck, but maybe there's some nice things about it? He could appreciate instincts that make him feel good for once, instead of his usual base-level of depression and anxiety.

"Yeah. That sounds good." Protein, carbs, and healthy sugars. It's a good mix, especially when he's probably going to need some serious energy to get through this. He drifts towards a chair once they reach the kitchen, though, leaving Eliot to handle the food-making. Now that he's realized what's happening, the way he feels right now makes a lot more sense. No shit he's experiencing fatigue and a whole boy ache, his body's starting the engine on a whole process it's literally never done before. It's supposed to get better once the arousal really kicks in and he has endorphins going, but for now, he's just going to let Eliot take care of the hard stuff.

Eliot deposits Quentin into a chair, keeping half an eye on him as he flits around the kitchen, humming to himself off and on.

The humming stops when Penny came in, and Eliot runs him off with a few sharp words that might as well have been a growl. Penny takes one look and one sniff, and then ducks out muttering to himself in annoyance.

Finally Eliot sets a plate in front of Quentin, then goes to fetch the butter and syrup, putting them down too and dropping into a chair next to Quentin. "Let me know if you want more," he tells Quentin.

He and Penny get along slightly better, now that they’re not forced to be roommates, but he’d be lying if he said he would’ve been comfortable with having him around right now. He feels… more vulnerable than usual, which he guesses is true, and it’s a relief that Eliot drives him off (and, weirdly, a serious turn-on, those new instincts smugly telling him that he picked a good alpha who will protect him and provide for him).

And when Eliot sets down food in front of him, his instincts sing again along with that wave of arousal, and he finds himself darting forward to kiss Eliot, make sure he’s aware that his omega appreciates him.

Eliot scents the little kick of arousal and smiles to himself as he finishes doling out food.

He's expecting awkward questions over the food, maybe. Or possibly a more awkward silence. He's NOT expecting the sudden kiss, and it takes him a second to respond. But when he does, it's by cradling Quentin's face with one hand, pressing the kiss deeper and rumbling a pleased growl.

When he breaks away finally, Eliot smiles at Quentin. "Eat," he says gently.

"Yeah. Okay."

He's not feeling exceptionally hungry right now though he's aware that he does need to fuel up. The plate Eliot puts in front of him does look pretty good, though, and he's feeling pretty inclined to do what Eliot says right now. Just. Also. "Could you, um." He pauses, not quite sure what to ask. He just. Wants Eliot closer? But he also kind of isn't sure how to put that without feeling stupid. It's not like Eliot isn't pretty close by already.

"Could I what?" Eliot prompts, sitting beside Quentin and hooking a foot around his ankle.

He brushes Quentin's hair back behind his ear again, his own plate not touched yet, too busy with Quentin. (And with being hyper-aware of the door to the kitchen in case anyone else wandered in. Eliot wants to keep Quentin and his scent all to himself.)

"This is - this is good? I just, wanted you closer. I think."

Which is why his body is already listing towards Eliot. It's not like - he does like physical contact. It's a normal thing for him to like. He's just, he's craving it right now in a way that does not normally happen. Which makes sense, right? Heat, or pre-heat, or whatever.

He takes a bite of the waffle. "Oh, this is good."

"Oh," Eliot looks distinctly pleased, and scoots in closer so he's pressed up against Quentin's side as well as they can be in separate chairs.

He gets that same cocky smile again when Quentin praises the food. Instincts are sometimes a pain, but providing for an omega and getting a thrill from them eating is one of the odder ones. "Glad you like it."

This is good. The food, and Eliot's warmth against his side? It's good. It makes him feel settled, way less anxious about this whole... thing. Being an omega, and having a heat, or whatever. Setting aside the less pleasant side effects like the whole-body ache, maybe this could be okay?

"You should eat, too?" he says because he has noticed that Eliot hasn't touched his plate yet. "Y'know, if I'm going to be begging you to fuck me soon, or whatever."

Eliot has very little idea what it's like to be an omega, since his instincts pull in different directions than theirs do. But he knows how shocking it can feel to suddenly have the body you've known all your life be different, and your instincts suddenly knocking you in the head.

Even if he hadn't wanted to sleep with Quentin, Eliot would have wanted to help him through however he can.

But he DOES want to sleep with him, so there's a decided feeling of anticipation as he watches Quentin eat.

When Q pops out with that, Eliot can't help the laugh that bubbles up. "Should I be prepared for dirty talk once we're in the midst of things?" he teases, but he bites into his own waffle too. Quentin has more power than he knows to get Eliot to do things.

He flushes. Not that he wasn't kind of embarrassed as soon as that came out of his mouth, but being called on it? "Uh, I don't know? Historically speaking, I have about two modes, rambling incoherently and, um, practically nonverbal, so. I wouldn't expect anything good, definitely."

It's not like dirty talk is one of his specialties. It's more that he just blurts things out and regrets them later.

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