A/N: Just some quick notes. Yes, another omega!Arthur hates being an omega and alpha!Alfred loves being an alpha and another author who's going to tell you 'but this fic is different!' lol. Honestly, though, this fic has a.) No sanctioned dub!con. As in, it's not treated by the plot as acceptable. b) Gross hyper-masculinity (alpha-inity?) is treated as gross hyper-masculinity and as a fault of society. Basically, this fic goes into some themes about sexism that could be triggering for some people, so read with that in mind. Go ahead an PM me if you want a list of specific triggers in that area. This society condones most of these activities, and one of the main characters doesn't see the problem until much later in the story. The other is so opposed to the system that they end up in the realm of internalized misogyny where they hate pink and aren't like 'other girls/omegas' and end up unintentionally harming themselves. Basically, both Alfred and Arthur have somewhat toxic mindsets that they have to get over before they can love themselves or each other. It is a romance, but they both have to learn to look past the stereotypes and the relationship isn't easy at first, so major slow!burn. Basically, this takes place in the usual omegaverse society, but under a colder lense (not to put down any of those fics, I wouldn't be writing this if I didn't love omegaverse, I just wanted to talk about how a society like that could go very very wrong). I think that's all the important stuff, so on to the story.

...:::*:::...

Arthur turned around in front of the mirror again, checking one last time that no part of his clothing clung to any bit of his body and that his sweater-vest looked as lumpy as it possibly could. Upon deciding that everything was to his satisfaction, he stopped for a moment more to observe his makeup free face in the mirror, touching his hand to one abnormally thick eyebrow. People were always telling him he should get them plucked or waxed or threaded, but he was glad for this Kirkland family curse. Anything that made him look any bit more unattractive was a positive thing in his book. Satisfied with his lack of appeal, Arthur looped his pleather satchel over his shoulder and turned to exit his room.

He made his way down the stairs as gracelessly as he could, scuffing the wood with the toe of his shoe and hitting each step with a flat foot instead of quietly on his toes. In the kitchen he filled and plugged in the electric kettle while shifting through the teas in the drawer next to the stove, plucking out a packet of English Breakfast.

As he waited for the kettle to boil, he reheated a scone, home cooked by his father two days before. It finished before the tea and he spread a bit of strawberry jam over it. He finished just as the sound of popping bubbles reached his ears. The boiling water was poured into his favourite tea cup- a white and rose imitation of one of the cups from Queen Victoria's best set- and he put in the bag, added a drop of honey and slid it in front of his stool with his scone, where he sat to enjoy his breakfast.

The rest of the house began to wake up around him as he ate. He could hear his brother- the only one of three that was currently living at home- start his shower upstairs. Somewhere down the hall, the door to his parent's bedroom squeaked open just as he took his second bite of scone. His father soon sleepily stumbled into the kitchen, looking down as he fiddled with the ends of his tie.

"There's some water heated up. In the kettle,"

"Hmm?" His father's head popped up, "oh, Arthur, how are you this morning?" Arthur just took another bite of his scone. "Well, if it's already is heated up..." his father continued as if Arthur had answered, picking out a tea with one hand and running the other through his thinning, but still curly, red hair. Next into the kitchen was his mother, her tie knotted perfectly and just finishing pulling her long blonde hair up with a tasteful bow. She grabbed her own teacup from the cabinet and then straightened her sky blue trousers where they had ridden up. Arthur's slight frame had almost certainly come from his father, who was on the lankier side, rather than his mother who had thick hips and legs and slightly rounded cheeks that left her constantly battling between a healthy weight and slightly over.

"Good morning, poppet*, how are you?"

Arthur savored his last sip of tea and quietly used his napkin to dab away any leftover jam from around his mouth. He tried to finish his food every morning before his brother walked in and clogged the air with the overwhelming scent of alpha. The stench never failed to make Arthur lose any semblance of an appetite.

"I'm doing well, mum." He slipped off his stool and rinsed his plate and cup off in the sink.

Rose Kirkland's green eyes followed her son and Arthur pretended not to notice her somewhat harsh features (it was her dark eyebrows, which while not as wide as Arthur's stood out prominently against her much lighter hair) soften as her sight roamed over his attire. He started to walk out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Traditionally his alpha, that is to say in his case his only living-at-home brother, should be escorting him to school. However, his parents were two betas and didn't really understand this social convention and so didn't press on it being followed. Arthur was sometimes unsure whether he was grateful for this or not; even if he had wanted an escort he would never stoop so low as to ask. Yet sometimes the walk was just too much. At other times he was proud of his ability to navigate the streets, so dangerous for his nature, on his own.

"Have a good day at school, son," James Kirkland shot out as he sat to his own tea and scone.

"Arthur!" His mother called as she strolled over to him. He turned around and she took both of his cheeks in her soft hands and lightly kissed his forehead, "be strong," she whispered almost harshly, like an order. Yet, for the first time since he had woken up, Arthur's lips twisted into something that might have been a smile.

As an intelligent beta with a steady job that no one berated her for having, Rose Kirkland couldn't completely empathize with Arthur's situation, but she could know it and she could hate how it hurt her son, and she could encourage him to have the strength that society told him was his vice.

"I will, mum," he whispered back. She smiled and turned back to the kitchen as Arthur moved to stand behind the front door. Taking a deep breath he lifted his chin, squared his shoulders and opened the door to the outside world.

His first steps out of his house were normal: a simple walking gait, casual, as he walked by the other houses in his neighbourhood. Things only began to change once he had left the sparsely populated area surrounding his home to head towards the bus station and into the city. A random splattering of people became groups of people which became a crowd.

Random pedestrians where disquieting, but not overly alarming, crowds were annoying, but not particularly troublesome. It was that intermediary zone that Arthur found the worst: where the sparse person had found friends and the crowd was still thinned out. That was where people both had the awareness to notice others and the knowledge that they blended into a larger group. As he walked into this zone, his footsteps became heavier, more solid and less like an omega's should. His eyebrows scrunched up and his mouth painted on a perfectly crafted scowl. It was this image that stomped past the first group of them on the sidewalk. Just catcalls from them, nothing he couldn't ignore.

He wasn't so lucky with the second group.

A hand shot out and grabbed the edge of his sweater vest. He stopped. The normal chill of fear crawled up his spine as he found himself at the whim of an alpha. Despite any inner strength, biologically he was well aware he had nothing on the physical capabilities of an alpha, and the twirling scent that blew on the wind from this group counted three alphas and a beta.

There was a tug. His stomach turned. No matter how many times it happened Arthur always had the same thought: this will be the one. The one that wouldn't let him escape, that would use that superior strength to leave him with his pants around his ankles between narrow walls and the rest of the forgotten trash. Arthur collected himself- though that fear, as always, would never truly leave until he was far out of reach- and braced himself.

"Hey, darling, what's this lumpy thing for? I bet you'd look a lot better without it. While you're at it you might as well get rid of the trousers too." The rest of the group snorted.

Arthur turned his head and twisted his body to face the group as best he could considering the hand still holding his clothing. As he tried to turn the hand let go so that he could do so, but now he was surrounded. His heart fluttered uncomfortably.

It was a tall alpha, taller than him, at least, but that wasn't difficult. She had razor cut short brown hair, tanned white skin, and deceptively warm brown eyes. She put two hands on her hips and her feet were in a wide stance against the concrete. When he turned, her eyes ranked obviously and without any attempt to conceal their wanderings across his frame, from his head to his toes and back.

"You aren't so bad," she stated, "Those eyebrows are monster, but we can fix those. No, you aren't too bad at all."

The other two alphas snorted. The beta sighed, apparently bored. Arthur stayed silent.

The alpha then leaned in and attempted to sniff uncomfortably close to Arthur's neck. Arthur could only take a half step back with the alphas behind him, but he did what he could.

"I'd appreciate it," he spoke for the first time, "if you would keep your presence out of my personal space," he sneered derisively, his heart beating in his throat.

The alpha's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in anger.

"Who the hell do you think you are to say that to me?" She demanded.

"I think I'm the human being who you just cornered on the street and prevented from getting to his destination, and who would really appreciate being able to get back on his way without being accosted," Arthur snapped back, all fake bravado. It was, he had discovered, the best way to get away, but also a tactic that could easily backfire.

"What's wrong with you?" One of the alphas behind him exclaimed, taking a step back as if Arthur's lack of social convention would catch. Arthur didn't stay to hear more. Instead, he turned and manoeuvered his way through the gap the alpha who stepped back had created and smoothly continued down the street. There was a halfhearted "hey!" but no one bothered to pursue him.

Alphas were said to be the bravest, strongest, and most motivated of the natures. The most likely to stand up for themselves and what they believe.

Arthur knew the truth.

They were just self-entitled bullies who believed they could get whatever they wanted without expending too much effort. Therefore, when he threw a wrench in those plans they tended not to pursue, not to be 'motivated', but to back off and find easier prey. An alpha never expected an omega to resist their advances, to back talk them. They expected to be able to corner them on the street, grab the hands of complete strangers, sniff their throats without them objecting with anything more than maybe a strangled whimper against it, and when alphas ran into something that went contrary to that, they were afraid. This was how Arthur survived, by not doing anything that was expected of him.

It was hard to live in a world where a quarter of the population believed they were entitled to your body. Where others thought that just because you spent four days every few months begging for it, you must always want it. That they could get you down on your knees with nothing more than a growl. It was hard, but Arthur managed; because no one was entitled to him but himself, and society, and certainly no alpha, was ever going to convince him any differently.

The rest of the groups he passed before he made it to the station were much of the same. Two more alphas tried to physically stop him by grabbing him like the first one. One reached for his arse as he passed, but never made it due to Arthur having a lot of practise swatting away stray hands. One told him he belonged on his knees (only the thought of evading an assault charge keeps Arthur from kicking that one onto his own knees. Then again, who would believe the bloke was assaulted by an omega?).

On the bus itself, there was a lot of not-so-subtle sniffing and absolutely horrid pickup lines, mostly revolving around how poor Arthur, obviously deprived of an authoritative figure in his life due to his obvious lack of an alpha escort- familial or otherwise- must want some or other alpha's prick in him. Arthur politely replied that the only place he would want their prick, if God would be so kind, was in a bear trap. He felt a bit safer on the bus, enough to reply like that, but he still knew he was walking a thin line between enough to make them want to leave him alone, and enough to deserve being attacked. Still, only weak omegas responded with willing passivity, and Arthur refused to be weak.*

Finally, Arthur made it to the school building. It was one of the few coeducational schools in the area. He may not like alphas, but that did not mean he wouldn't bear being in the same classes as them if it meant he could get an equal education.

As per once or twice every few weeks, today there was a line of protesters outside the front of the building. They boasted signs with slogans such as 'Coeducation will ruin us all' 'Alphas only!' and 'Omegas don't need math to cook'. The last one was Arthur's personal favourite simply for the fact that it was a completely false statement and the dim wielder didn't even seem to realise it.

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur began his march into the building. A protester shouted some drivel at him about how he'll never find a proper mate if he knew quantum theory, as they do to all the omegas who pass, and, as he did every day, Arthur ignored him. Once inside, the raised voices were more of a dull roar that Arthur could easily relegate to background noise. The protesters were annoying, but dealing with them was a good deal better than the alternative of having to take four home ec. classes and two omega studies. Here he had already finished home ec and only has to take one omega studies a year. Not that he attended that class when he could avoid it.

Head still held up high and nose upturned to give off his best holier-than-thou attitude, Arthur stomped his way down the halls. Things were better in side the school, as people who dared attend generally originated from more progressive families, but microaggressions are hard for even the most progressive of alphas to realise they are committing, much less stop, and even the most progressive of omegas not to encourage. And most of them were not, by any stretch of the imagination- or at least Arthur's imagination though he fears many in the outside world would disagree- the most progressive bunch.

Therefore, as Arthur passed things were as they always were. Most ignored him, a few whispered, a few edged away out of fear- some out of the fear that his behaviour, which in their minds just must be caused by some sort of viral hormonal imbalance, was contagious; some simply out of the fear of what he will do to them if they get too close. Legally, Arthur can't fight with his fists, but there is no one who knows how to use their words better. He boasted the proud accomplishment of once bringing an alpha to tears.

His locker was on the second floor: three hundreds hallway. He switched out his maths book for his English book, before quickly backtracking to the center of a perpendicular hallway where a set of double doors led to the library. It was a grand library with shelves not only lining the walls but interspersed throughout the room and pitied up high with books of all sorts. Best of all, unlike other private libraries, there was not a single sign preventing an omega from going into certain sections.

It was in one of these sections that would normally be cordoned off to omegas where Arthur found his best friend.

Kiku Honda was a tranquil quiet beta, as most betas were. The difference was that he had never expected anything of Arthur based on any preconceived notions of omegahood, and he had accepted Arthur as the unruly force of nature he was. Arthur knew he could trust Kiku not to tell him to 'just take the compliment' next time an alpha reached for his arse, or blame preheating for every time Arthur got upset or angry. Very simply put, Kiku didn't treat Arthur the way society generally treated omegas. Kiku simply treated him like another beta, and doing so made Kiku one of the few people in Arthur's life that looked at him as an actual human being and not a stupid delicate object.

"Good morning, Kiku,"

"Good morning," Kiku responded in kind, flipping a page in his book without looking up. Arthur would usually pick up a book and begin reading too, but with the bell just a few minutes away he knew the effort would be for nil. Instead, he sat up straight in his seat, crossed his hands over the top of the bench, and lost himself to one of his favourite activities: people watching. Not for any genuine like or enjoyment of people, but for something of a more sinister nature. Simply put, watching people was the easiest way to find out all sorts of interesting information about them, and the more information he had about others that they wished to keep quiet, the easier it was for an omega such as himself to stay safe and unbothered.

It was in this pursuit of staying safe that Arthur became a master of manipulation, and, therefore, a people watcher.

On the shelf up from the row he was facing there were two missing books. In the gap left by those two missing books, he could see into the next aisle. In the next aisle, in the space left between the shelves and the wall, there was an alpha. Brown hair, expensive jacket, lean build. Ian McKinley, year thirteen like Arthur, mediocre grades, swimming team. Arthur had an ear to the ground at all times and made it his business to know such things.

Ian was searching through the books in front of him. Arthur knew this library like the back of his hand and he quickly searched his mind for the categorization of that specific row of books. Paranormal romance novels, the type made for tweenage omegas. Arthur snorted, it was a very unomegalike sound, and an omega searching through the shelves directly in front of him turned around to look at him disapprovingly until he realised he had found himself face to face with Arthur Kirkland, at which point the boy quickly snapped back to his book titles. Unfortunately, there was no more information to be found or entertainment to be had, as those two, Kiku, and Arthur himself were the only people in Arthur's line of sight, and his nose and ears told him there were only about five more people in the entire library at all. Shame.

Arthur spent another minute or so just reading the spines of the books he was staring at. Textbooks, the specific area he was facing dealt in theoretical mathematics. He quickly drunk up the titles of these books, looking for one of interest. Arthur tried to complete at least one book from each section, simply because he knew, as an omega, there were very few places he could find such information. In this day and age, it was becoming harder and harder to keep omegas ignorant. The internet had made hiding all information all but impossible, and any omega with access to the internet was already a hundred times better off than his or her ancestors that came before. Unfortunately, it was not 'in fashion' to buy omegas computers or allow them too much access time to a source of internet connection. Arthur's parents weren't like this, thankfully, but still, from what Arthur had seen actual reputable educational sources were careful about what they posted. It seemed it would always be more accepted to publish actual physical journals for, Arthur could only assume, the very purpose of keeping them out of the view of omegas.

Arthur had just sorted the title 'Real World Applications to the Theories of Arthur Cayley'- Practical and a namesake, Arthur couldn't help but be curious- into his mind when the five-minute bell finally rang. Kiku gently closed his book and placed it in his backpack, stacking the other three next to him neatly on top of one another and smoothly standing and placing them in their correct slots on the shelves. Despite not being an omega drilled and taught since his youth to act as such, Kiku was one of the most graceful people Arthur knew. In fact, his quiet demeanor and gracefulness would almost lead one to mistake him as an omega from afar, if it weren't for his uncovered neck and often painfully neutral expression.

Arthur followed Kiku off the bench, and as soon as the beta had finished putting his books away he nodded at Arthur. Arthur nodded back, and they began their walk to their respective classes. Kiku to his Monday morning photography class, and Arthur to advanced English. The walk was mostly silent, as things often were with Kiku, but still companionable. Neither boy was driven to fill every moment with chatter and to them, the silence was peaceful and not awkward as it might have been perceived by others. Not to mention, with a beta by his side, Arthur got fewer stares and disapproving glances than he did walking the halls alone, and, though he's not exactly proud of it, he was glad for the occasional break.

The two of them split up with another mutual nod as Arthur started down the stairs while Kiku took an adjacent hallway.

"Good Luck, Arthur," Kiku wished Arthur. Arthur didn't speak much about things that make him uncomfortable except to rant on them as a source of aggravation, but Kiku is very perceptive. Therefore, he knew that Arthur had bittersweet feelings about his advanced English class. Arthur adored English: poetry and prose, obscure symbolism, and all varieties of figurative language set a fire in him that very few other things did. He loved the concept of the class itself, he just wasn't particularly fond of all the people involved in it.

It was the class in which he had to square his shoulders the strongest and hold his nose the highest, for in that classroom Arthur was the only omega in a sea of alphas and betas. It was common enough, the school was progressive but it wasn't an island. Outside forces still affected it and it's students. By this grade level there were four basic categories that most omegas fit into: had already dropped out to have and raise families; were staying in school while raising families, which took considerable time and effort that didn't facilitate involvement in advanced courses; was planning to simply finish school and immediately have and raise a family, meaning they weren't particularly fastidious with their grades or courses; or were afraid of the persecution of society and their peers that was sure to happen should they take any class that distinguished them as being too intelligent. All this led to very few advanced courses with any omegas in them at all, and to this particular advanced English class having only one.

After mentally preparing himself, Arthur marched into the room and quietly took his customary seat in the front as the alpha students flooded in while chattering to each other rambunctiously and the beta students settled in their seats conversing more quietly.

Sitting in the front of this class served a dual purpose for Arthur. He sat in the front in most classes, simply so that he could actually learn and not be distracted by the slack offs playing spitball in the back. Here it was for the same reason, but also so that he could tell the alpha chauvinistic pig of a teacher that Arthur was neither afraid of nor intimidated by him. Mr. Andrews had been trying to get Arthur to drop out of the class from the moment the man shook his hand and realised he was an omega. Extremist point deductions, unjustified detention slips, public humiliation, if it existed this alpha had tried. Arthur knew, though, that this was, if not his first then his most realistic, test of what life would be like when he finished high school. He was going to finish school and pursue a serious career, alpha at his side or not (hopefully not), and no underpaid, egotistical, thirteenth year English teacher was going to stop him.

The bell rang and the students shuffled into their seats as Mr. Andrews rose from his and began roll call.

"Alright, Arlovskaya, Bonnefoy, Brown, Carter, Smith," after reading every name, more to himself than the class, he would look up and search briefly for the student, nodding to himself as he located him or her. "Karpusi, King, Kirkland," there was no change in tone as the name was said, but Arthur watched his professor's eyes roam from Arthur's head to feet and feet to head as the man checked for any small infraction in dress code or anything else that could justify sending Arthur out. He wouldn't find anything. Arthur was a quick study. After the first time he was sent to the office for wearing "too thin" a neckband, Arthur always made sure his neckwear was drawn up and concealing, his trousers to his ankles despite propriety only demanding they reach mid-knee, and his sleeves to his wrists despite any social rule on arm coverage being deemed as archaic more than ten years ago. This alpha would find nothing in his dress to fault him of.

The roll finally concluded with:

"Hassan, Wang," and the teacher put his book down against his desk with a harsh thud before striding over to the white board.

"Alright class, what did you all think about last night's reading assignment?" He questioned, sitting down on the stool in front of the board with his feet in two separate continents.

Silence.

"Please, not all at once," he droned, brown eyes crinkling in amusement.

"It was... Off putting," volunteered one alpha,

"Yes, off putting!" Exclaimed the teacher, "that's an opinion. Off putting how?"

"Well, I just want to know what this chick's problem is" added another alpha, "she just starts freaking out over her mate's hand. It's pretty strange and dramatic,"

The teacher laughed, "Yes, Mr. Brown, well strange and dramatic seems to be the default for omegas,"

The alphas of the class broke out in snorts and laughter. The betas chuckled. Arthur turned red, thought from embarrassment or anger it was hard to tell.

"What about you, Arthur," the teacher singled him out, "what do you think of the climax of the story?"

He knew the question was not just a question, but a test. Well, if he thought he was going to catch Arthur having not done the assignment, he was sorely incorrect.

"I would say, sir," the last word was strained but not strained enough that he would be called out on it, "That there is no climax of the storyline rather it is a gradual realization by the omega woman portrayed through the symbolism of the hand. Therefore one could conclude that the climax comes in the moments before her realization is complete, but that occurs alongside the closing action of the narrative."

The teacher frowned.

He had said too much, he knew he had said too much. There was only too much to be said about this story. What did it represent but the imprisonment of already limited freedoms that mating brought to an omega? It was clear as day in the story and the symbolism and even the authoress herself who was, in fact, an omega. How, though, could this be the answer an alpha teacher in a room full of alphas and betas was searching for? No, in this environment his interpretation would be dismissed, thought of as whimsical, over emotional, and unfounded, no matter how well he supported it. Yet, what else could he say? What could possibly be the literary significance of this story if it didn't symbolize exactly what it was meant to symbolize? How did alphas interpret an omega's cry for help?

"Yes, well, Arthur, it is a study of realization. Can anybody tell me of what?... Yes, Arlovskaya?"

"The woman is coming to realise, through the hand, the power of her alpha," answered the smirking alpha.

"Yes, wonderful," exclaimed the teacher, clapping his hands on his thighs, "that's exactly it. She is realizing the physical and rightful superiority of her alpha over her by observing the strength of the hand. Early in the story, we see her remark on its large size, representing its ability to hold her as it sees fit, and as her mate is lying with his arm around her she has realised that it is only right that it do so,"

Arthur resisted every temptation to snort, knowing it would certainly get him reprimanded, thrown out, or questioned. Weakness and subservience, that was how an alpha interpreted an omega's plea. He was not surprised.

"The symbolism in this story, as you can all see, is actually quite straightforward. Hence, its use in the study of symbolism," the teacher continued, "the hand represents the alphainity of her mate, and therefore his right to head over her. She is realizing this power and reflecting on her awe over it."

Now Arthur's hands were clenching. Maybe it would have been better if that had been the actual message. At least then he could blame the bigoted author for writing it instead of his bigoted teacher for his interpretation. At least then he could pity the omega authoress for writing it instead of feeling this burning anger towards his alpha teacher for dismissing the true nature of her hard work. For dismissing the clear fear and imprisonment the fictional omega felt while trapped in the powerful and therefore potentially violent arms of her mate. Did everything have to be about alpha superiority?

As the teacher kept prattling, Arthur turned his head away, looking back so that he could school his expression. His eyes accidentally made contact with a pair of pale blue ones. The face they were attached to was firmly scrunched up in distaste. When the owner of that face realised he had made eye contact with Arthur, his demeanor softened, almost apologetic. Arthur's crunched up hand relaxed for a moment before tensing up again as he quickly sneered and looked away.

Francis Bonnefoy was the most disgusting sort of alpha. Oh, he was pompous, arrogant, sexualizing of omegas (unsettlingly sexualizing of everyone, really), just like the rest. The thing was, though, that Francis pretended to have compassion. He pretended to genuinely care about the pain and discomfort of others, and to express a detached disapproval over the societal normality of undermining omegas.

Arthur knew it was all a ploy to catch unsuspecting omegas in his web (he had been caught in that web for a short time once, when he was younger and more naive and starved for attention and justification), and Arthur himself was often the fly Francis had his beady eyes set on. Luckily, compassion was a characteristic Arthur didn't partake in. Contrary to what generally accepted stereotypes about his nature would lead one to believe, Arthur found it very difficult to sympathize with the pain and displeasure of others. He could feel righteous anger for the victims of injustice, but he couldn't necessarily feel bad for them. This quality that was part of Francis' arsenal was no longer going to entice Arthur.

Still, his touches were always too familiar and his tone too gentle. Arthur sometimes got the feeling Francis pitied him. Dealing with Bonnefoy was a trial of Arthur's patience and always ended with Arthur wanting to sock the alpha in his smug face.

At this moment, though, Arthur thought that maybe, just maybe, Francis had seen the story the way Arthur had, and for that he was… not completely disgusted with the alpha.

"Alright-" an aggravating half hour later the teacher stood from the stool and sauntered over to his desk, where he picked up a notepad- "now that we've properly analysed the text, I am going to assign each of you either this story or Friday's story to write an essay paragraph on. I will give you each a prompt for your story, and will expect you to use the symbolism in the story in order support your interpretation of the prompt. I will be handing each prompt out individually, so go ahead and talk amongst yourselves while I go around."

Chatter immediately burst out around Arthur, but he was careful to keep a straight face and continue studying the board, which contained only the name of the text and the page numbers it could be located on. Even had he wanted to, he couldn't speak. The teacher would call him out on it with an excuse about not discussing the story or something of the sort, really it was simply that 'omegas should be seen and not heard'. Outdated, yes, but no more rare for being so.

As the professor made his way around, Arthur silently prayed that he would receive Friday's story, which was unrelated to the plight of omegas in any way, and of which he could write an accurate, to the professor's standards, analysis of without giving in to any sort of temptation.

Arthur snuck a peak at Francis, who was now looking down at his textbook and tracing something with his finger. He was as pristine as ever, light blond shoulder-length hair pulled back into a purposely mussed ponytail, royal purple button down shirt- probably some expensive material, dark jeans that hugged his frame nicely.

Arthur wondered again what Francis' true thoughts on the story were, and debated the pros and cons of going up to him after class so he could know for sure. His farce of gentleness and care meant Arthur knew he didn't have to fear around him, as long as he could stomach all the fluff and pomp... and stayed in a public area.

The teacher made it to Arthur's desk.

"Arthur, you will be writing about the central meaning of today's story, including symbolism to represent the author's purpose in writing this short story-" and as simple as that the man walked away. He had spent more time with everyone else, perhaps giving pointers or even compromising on the subject, but he wouldn't compromise with Arthur. Arthur knew this prompt was on purpose. The man had purposely told him to write on a central meaning that Arthur suspected the teacher suspected that Arthur did not agree with and that was demoralizing to omegas.

He probably got off on an omega writing about how utterly pliant he should be to the will of an alpha.

As soon as he thought it Arthur felt distinctly nauseous. The thought of alphas sexualizing him often made him angry, the thought of this alpha, his teacher, not only seeing him as incompetent because of his nature but also as more of a sex object than a student made him feel sick and caused his right hand to let out a minuscule tremble that Arthur immediately hated himself for. No, it was best not to think about it. The teacher had had him write this specific prompt just to antagonize him. That was it. There was nothing else to it.

Arthur flipped open his notebook and jotted down his story, prompt, and anything he could remember about the central meaning discussed in class. He certainly would not be able to remember it himself, and writing anything contrary to it was just the sort of excuse the teacher was looking for to fail him. Arthur continued jotting down these notes as the teacher continued visiting students until the bell indicating the end of the period rang. As everyone rushed out of their seats and gathered their things, Arthur carefully recapped his pen, gently blew on his notebook to dry the ink, and lightly closed the papers over each other. He stood up and picked his satchel off the floor all in one smooth motion, and slipped his notebook into it in the next. By the time Arthur slung the bag over his shoulder, the last of the students were fleeing through the door. Arthur squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and went to follow them, hyperaware of the one person still left in the room. As he passed through the doorway he swore he could feel the hot gaze of eyes studiously following him out.

…:::*:::...

A/N:

*I repeat from the beginning, Arthur is an unreliable narrator, as Alfred will be after him.

Anyway, so I've had this story hanging out in my drive for a while now, and this is the kind of omegaverse story I've always wanted to read, so I decided just to go ahead and publish it. I can't promise consistent updates, but I can promise updates and chapters of a consistent length and I know exactly what will happen in this story and when. The next chapter will be in Alfred's pov.

If you enjoyed, or want to discuss omegaverse or any aspect of this story or have constructive criticism of any type, really, please review or pm me. I'd be happy to hear from you. :-)