Chapter Text
Florals and leathers. Spices and sweets. Woods and winds. Fresh cut grasses, tangy metals, or even acrid smokes.
Every day was a shifting tsunami of inundating individual scent markers. A perceptible plethora of pleasingly palatable personal perfumes to signal one's secondary sex characteristics.
Of all the smells available, Luigi’s ended up being similar to that ephemeral fragrance: boiling cabbage.
Most omegas had scents ranging from sticky sweet to those soothing nearly savory ones. Here stood Luigi, staring into the deep sapphires reflecting back in the bathroom mirror, giving off that stench of turning vegetation. Mirror-self also digging sightlessly through the drawer of blockers and suppressants that Mama Mario kept stocked for the whole household.
It was a cruel twist of fate.
One that was only outshone by his twin presenting as an omega too.
Luigi presenting as an omega had been a long-anticipated outcome. All the way back to when they were toddlers. How sweet, affectionate, and nonconfrontational had been cooed lovingly to him throughout his childhood and pre-presenting teen years. That was when his uncles, Tony and Arthur, had offered to fight any alphas that dared to mistreat their perfect little omega nephew.
And Mario telling them to get in line as he’d get first crack at ‘em.
At least Mario would still be there for him.
That protective streak his twin has where Luigi is concerned, and his penchant to jump to the taller twin's defenses, fists first, against the bullies over the years, had been part of why Mario presenting as an alpha had been assumed. Or, at least a very dominant beta. Mario had grown up on praises for his protectiveness, that tenacious need to overcome any challenge, and his scrappy strength.
Just like Papa…
Practiced fingers locate the omega scent blocker patches as his blue eyes stay locked under the brown strands of hair left to hang loose in vague, untamed waves. Whereas his beloved mustache that rested above a hidden drooping lips was done up in its ritualistic styling, completed just moments prior to this final part of his daily care.
The comforting smell of faint fatty fruit soaked in rum and fire met Luigi’s senses before the door opened a crack for Mario to slip in and around Luigi to begin his own morning personal care routine. The stockier twin had at least been grateful his similar scent to bananas foster ended up being one that wasn’t an abrasively sweet and obviously omega one. The hints of spiced rum and burnt caramel even convinced a few others into assuming Mario was an alpha; fellow omegas included.
Luigi’s lips perked up to have the space beside him filled by Mario brushing slowly at his teeth on autopilot from recently waking up. That quaint silence allowed Luigi to continue his sleepy ponderings on their past and how differently their present was from what they imagined growing up. Different, but holding the same basic core to it. Like a monkey paw version of their childhood wishes. After the twins presented, everyone changed how they treated them, even though nothing truly changed about who they were. Luigi still approached things from a place of patience and negotiations. Willing to offer apologies over conflict, but the cooing and protectiveness ended when they caught a sniff of his scent.
Now, Luigi was ignored more than anything. HIs presence is like the scent of a beta, nearly imperceptible.
Mario, still with his tenacious stubbornness, had Papa Mario’s pride pulled out from under him for it. Two years was all it took for Mario to get fed up with the cautious and confining way society treated omegas and having that applied to him suddenly in his teens. Each resistant push back from the older twin earned him a disappointed lecture on acting like a proper omega now.
A spit and a splatter sounding off snapped Luigi into the moment in time to catch Mario’s, “Mama should have coffee ready, Lu. You’re spacing out even more this morning.”
“Yeah, a bit of coffee should fix that right up.” The younger twin cheerfully returned as Luigi peeled the protective layer to expose the adhesive side of the patch so he could stick it over his gland and block that languid smell.
“You know you really don’t need to be using those at home. We’re not going anywhere else today, after all.”
Luigi sighed at the suggestion that Mario has repeated to him over the years, but sometimes, echoes of the past are louder than any present reassurances.
“Jeez, Luigi! Could you cover that up or go out on the balcony? I’m trying to eat here.” Thoughtless jokes from one uncle to another for laughs.
“It’s alright, Mario. It’s not like I even want to smell me.” The smile behind the meticulously manicured mustache was too frail to crinkle the corners of his eyes.
Topaz orbs between unkempt hair and matching mustache broke contact via the mirror with those sapphires to face Luigi directly. “You’re going to permanently damage your gland at this rate. That’s what the doctor said when we had you checked out because of how faint it’s gotten.”
His taller twin turned away from Mario, one hand covering the patch on the back of his neck. It was common to resort to scent blockers only in situations where it was a struggle to keep the release of your pheromones to a socially acceptable level. Times like the onsets of heat or rut or high emotional days that weren’t worth the struggle. Making the scent blocker part of his daily routine became a habit a short few months after Luigi presented at 14; the day after Mario, of course.
After religious use for the last 10+ years, that poignant sulfuric vegetable smell was only just stronger than a beta’s. It still indicated his omega status though.
Entering a room to the gags and coughing of around half the occupants at such a crucial time of growth had a lasting impact. Luigi could only stand a handful of months with others covering their noses in his presence and the too loudly whispered complaints.
“Oh god! It’s so gross!!”
“I hope that smell doesn’t stick to my clothes.”
“Who in their right mind would want to live with that smell?”
“Would that really be so bad, Mario?”
That familiar weight of Mario’s hand on Luigi’s shoulder didn’t come as a surprise, nor the gentle guiding pressure to turn him back around and face matching blues. “Yes it would be, Lu.”
Mario’s other hand grabbed Luigi’s opposite shoulder to pull the younger twin into his chest, releasing soothing pheromones to fill the small bathroom. The bitter notes of alcohol took over the soft fruit scent. Still, Luigi breathed in the calming fragrance even with the distressed notes on the nose.
“Your health is more important and anyone you end up being with will think so too. You don’t gotta wait for some knot-head to notice how great you are, Luigi. Being an omega doesn’t mean you can only love an alpha.”
That gets Luigi to sigh again and retreat from Mario’s chest to meet the lighter topaz eyes of his twin. The same twin that’s been telling him that since they were 16 when Mario swore off getting involved with alphas. Unlike Luigi, Mario was strong enough to fight against every omega stereotype.
He was the first omega to join the football team. Challenging every alpha until he was the lead running-back by senior year too. Luigi had also joined the team, but was more mascot than player. He’d been Mario’s second, but spent most of the season as his benchwarmer. Except for that time where Mario got sick for their qualifying Championship playoff game. Luigi’s aching knees were the lifelong trophy he won getting tackled at the touchdown line.
As the stadium erupted in cheers for their team making it into the playoffs, Luigi was being carted off on a stretcher. Even though they went on to lose in the first round of playoffs, for one shining moment, Luigi was the star.
His chest was fit to burst from the swell of pride and self-esteem he was riding high on in that hospital bed where they addressed the ligament sprain and recommended treatments. Mama Mario had gone pale when the emergency room doctor suggested they consult someone on the possibility of surgery for the best chance at a full recovery. That wouldn’t be financially possible even if they did as suggested.
Luigi had been vibrating with excitement at getting to share his glorious moment with Mario. When they got home and finished retelling the events of the day, Luigi’s sense of accomplishment popped against the prick of Papa’s uproar. Sharply casting blame at Mario for dragging Luigi into something so dangerous.
“If you wanted to be a sports star, you should have gone into soccer with the omega team like I told you to in the first place!”
Papa’s words only fueled Mario’s resolve to his oath on never being relegated to an alpha’s domestic omega sitting pretty at home. For Mario, it was all too easy to divert his romantic interests to betas or even omegas.
“I know, Mario. It’s just…If I’d been meant to be with a beta, it would have been nice to also have been born one too. Then, I wouldn’t have this smell…” or this need deep in his soul.
Only in the quiet moments between thoughts does Luigi let himself admit to his love of being an omega. How deeply he craves to have that coddling again that he was denied due to the smell emanating from his gland. Forced to choose a life as a beta over his omega side being rejected every day by everyone he passed.
That was Luigi’s secret guilty wish. To be a protected and cherished house-omega. Keeping the nest clean and full of love. Being pushed around and commanded by an alpha lost to instincts that matched his own cry to submit beneath their will. Making meals so delicious that his mate fell in love again with every bite. Just like Mama does to Papa.
The desperation Luigi felt to embrace his omega side fully shadowed the corners of sapphire eyes. Even without vocalizing those last thoughts, the topaz eyes glancing up at Luigi pick up on them as if he had.
It was Mario that gave a soft sigh this time and brought their foreheads together. He ran his hands soothing through Luigi’s hair, over his neck and that accursed patch then down to brace the younger brother’s shoulders in support. That’s probably the only part of being an omega that Mario begrudgingly put in the positives column. The extra level of physical and pheromone affection sharing that was considered socially acceptable between omegas. Knowing the smidgen of a confidence boost it gave his brother, Mario made sure to nuzzle and press the side of his face and neck against Luigi’s so the banana foster scent lingered and further covered the last of Luigi’s. The younger twin purred his gratitude and held a little tighter.
“Mama’s probably got breakfast ready, let’s get a move on Lu, before we miss out.” A chuckling sniffle from Luigi assured Mario his twin was pulled back together.
They headed to the dining room, a red clothed arm slung across green shoulders. “And tomorrow, Weegie, we become the first Mario omegas to be business owners! Starting off with a bang using that commercial too.”
Mario’s determination and thrill at breaking another barrier rubbed against Luigi’s melancholy nostalgia until the crinkles at the corners of his eyes eased and bloomed with joy.
“That’s right, Mario! I can’t wait to see it aired.”
Luigi’s hesitant mood was to be expected on the precipice of such a dramatic plunge into unknown waters laid out before their feet that they were staring down.
*~*~*
“I knew saving Brooklyn was a bad idea.”
Mario assisted Luigi to his feet with a gentle, “Come on.”
A cold dampness was slipping down Luigi’s neck from the vanishing adhesive when he rolled his sore shoulder. Soggy lettuce taunted Luigi’s nose. A far too fitting smell amongst the sewage permeating the air. With luck, the distressed signal was being swallowed by the surrounding stench so as to not reach his twin. Mario’s own pheromones were a stark contrast of battling rum and fruit from the thrill-seeking excitement thrumming through him.
“Whoa~!”
With a resigned swipe, the green plumber removed his patch and grabbed the tool bag to catch up with his bemused twin in red. This rollercoaster of a day felt as endless as the stairs and pits of the place they had discovered.
The long trek downward in companionable silence filled Luigi’s thoughts with all they’d been through already. Having their elation for the commercial weighed down by bumping into Spike. Both their ex-boss, and one of Luigi’s unsuccessful relationship attempts with an alpha.
“If it isn’t Brooklyn’s favorite failures, The Stinky Mario Brothers.” Spike never could resist a chance to jab at Luigi’s insecurities post-breakup.
While the scent blockers cover the aroma from pheromones, they don’t inhibit them or the instinctive reactions either. It was uncomfortably common that a patch falling off during an overnight stay would mean being rudely woken by his partner’s accusing shouts of Luigi tricking them into being attracted to such a hideous smell. Spike wasn’t the first alpha to end it with Luigi over his smell, but he sure seemed to hold onto the resentment the longest. Taking it out on Luigi throughout the workdays and even to this very morning.
“Good luck running a business with this idiot.” Spike had aggressively hurled at Luigi along with the balled-up napkin.
The white glove from Mario snatched it out of the air before it could strike his cowering younger brother. Putting a stop to Spike’s bullying of Luigi for “leading him on”, is what made Mario invite Luigi to join his new business. The one he’d been saving up for and was all set to start.
That familiar way Mario moved to face off against Spike and stand between him and Luigi, rum soaked pheromones seeping out to clash with cigar scented ones. As every time before, this immediately got the alpha’s hackles to rise as he grabbed the red twin and hoisted him up by his overall straps.
“Get this through your tiny brain, Mario. You’re an omega. And you always will be.”
All that was forgotten in the chaos of their first successful job that they had landed. Returning home victorious to the jeers of their uncles before Papa Mario delivered the crushing blow.
“I think you’re nuts. Omegas don’t leave steady jobs for some crazy dream. And the worst part. You’re bringing your brother down with you. As if he doesn’t have it hard enough.”
That was the straw that collapsed Mario’s shoulders and knocked him to his lowest point. The thing about Mario though, whenever he felt at his most defeated is when he would bounce back swinging. Which would be the catalyst to them traversing this underground space.
After nearly a dozen floors down, they reach what appeared to be the bottom. A green pipe sitting in a strange spot was a siren song of mystery calling Luigi closer to puzzle out its placement.
“Looks like nobody’s been down here for years.”
The words from Mario grow distant as a forceful wind snatches Luigi off his feet and whisks him away.
*~*~*
Ash and rotten eggs smothering his sinuses were what woke him to his aching head and the frightening new location. Luigi seized his cap quickly and then went about collecting the spilled tools to return to his trusty bag. The pressure against his hip is the only piece of his original world in this place straight out of Luigi’s worst nightmares.
The eerie large full moon above still not enough light to discern the burnt and chard trees from the inky black. After fruitlessly seeing if Mario had found his way to Luigi already. Disregarding that his last sight of his older twin was him being forcefully ripped from Luigi’s tight grip due to some splitting fork of the thin air. The taller twin took precious moments to dig one handed in his front overall pocket for the water tight pouch of emergency patches stored within while he moved.
His other hand trembled with the flashlight to keep looking out for any dangers. He had barely managed to return the pouch to the safety of that front pocket on his overalls, but dropped the retrieved blocker patch, when he briefly illuminated some sort of skeletal creature.
Luigi’s own sulfuric pheromones flooded out of his control as the proper amount of scent release was tossed out along with the tool bag and flashlight as he fled with that thing chasing after him. Clownishly breaking the creature apart afforded Luigi some temporary relief, but the rattling bones came to life and reformed together once again. Luigi’s mounting terror formed a cloud of cauliflower stench as overwhelming as when he was in his early years of heat cycles.
Either his cries or his odor, Luigi wasn’t in a state of mind to figure out which brought an entire swarm descending upon him. They were on his heels like the cabbage musk that trailed after him. His nimble stumbling barely got him through in time to close the door upon the grasping hands from outside the abandoned castle he found refuge inside.
His relief was short-lived once again. With the imminent threat now ended, Luigi felt safe to waste valuable time and attention on applying that scent blocker. His success came at the cost of giving the silent occupants the perfect chance to pounce.
*~*~*
“He’s a human!” Was a surreal exclamation coming from the prettiest human Mario has ever met in person.
The smell of peach brandy coated his sinuses all the way to the back of his throat as the princess inspected him. It was a balm to Mario though, as the combined overpowering fragrance of all the little mushroom people was making him queasy. Each one a beta level trickle of distinctly separate mushroom types all culminated into a fragrant bouquet of mushrooms.
“I mean, you are a human, right? It’s just you’re so small…” If her strong smell of alcohol, sweet as it was, hadn’t been enough to clue her as an alpha. Then the way she helped herself to his personal space, nose, body, and hat were dead giveaways.
Though, she did have the decency to stop when he brought a hand up to block her second round of it. This Princess Peach had no leash on her pheromones though, and it was making Mario lightheaded. Teasing at his inner omega when her bravery squared her stance alongside that almost too sweet perfuming punch of spirits.
“Well, take me with you!” That haze had the red plumber seeking her approval. The soothing presence of confident alpha scent flooding every square inch was a guilty comfort to him after bumbling through this eccentric world he was lost in.
“This guy’s a lunatic, a psycho. He will eat you for breakfast. He won’t even notice it, probably, ‘cause you’re a very, very small omega.”
That prevalent dismissiveness was the spark needed to reignite Mario’s dignity that he’s stubbornly defended for a decade. “You know what, make fun of me all you want, but you’re gonna help me find my brother.”
He threw in a vulnerable, “please?” for good measure at the falter in icy blue eyes under the shock of his challenging response. Mario lagged behind when she turned that surprise back on him by giving him a chance to prove himself without any further prompting.
Back home, it would have taken a hell of a lot more fight to get a chance to let action speak louder than his secondary gender. To have the barrier fall so easily made him stumble a bit before taking off after the princess.
Though, that tiny hint of patronizing in her voice during the course training was an irritating motivation that kept him going through the night. The grate of it against his pride invigorating him at each failure. It still rubbed him raw to hear it in her white lies too, but Mario appreciated her clumsy attempt to cheer him up.
“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me feel better.”
A sharp, “No!” followed by the forced nonchalant, “no.” came from beside him while the sun finished rising over this peculiar new world.
“Is it working?”
“A little bit. Yeah.” He offered his honest reply.
In truth, he needed to hear it. Luigi’s safety was at stake and Mario didn’t know the first thing about how to get his brother back. It’s been over 10 years since Mario’s felt so unstable in himself.
That assumed incompetence from the princess based on a single piece of Mario he’d been saddled with echoed the struggles Mario’s faced over those years. But seeing her brush those assumptions aside when shown a person's genuine ability, that was something Mario could respect.
Her unrestrained use of pheromones was still a bit much though.
*~*~*
That green human was very perplexing to the Snifit in charge of the Shy Guy troop that Bowser had left at the old, abandoned castle outpost.
To find a new human was rare enough, but a scentless beta one? That had to be unheard of.
Their only course of action was to take said human straight to Lord Bowser.
While the scentless state of him said one thing, the human’s body language and demeanor said another. The hunch of shoulders working to make him appear small even as he was the tallest present. Anxious whines, pitiful whimpers, and enormous sparkling blue eyes plead to know why they were doing this…all of it agitated the Snifit’s inner alpha that demanded he soothe the obviously frightened omega.
Instead, he pulled punishingly upon the rope used to lead the human onto the air balloon ship. The only thing rarer in this world than humans were omegas and this one had the gall to use their denied instincts against them.
Let the confusing and insolent creature be Bowser’s problem.
*~*~*
Kamek’s whimpers trailed behind Bowser as he left the music chamber, the small claws still caught in the key cover for the piano.
The cooling glow lingering in Bowser’s crimson gaze trapped the heat of his frustration beneath a thin lava flow surface. Each passing day it was getting harder to reign in his aggressions as the unsatisfied needs radiating from his alpha dragon nature tore at his sanity. No wonder his army was shocked by his recent 180 of jumping to marry the princess.
If there’d only been a suitable omega for Bowser’s unyielding affections that his alpha side could have courted, then that would have changed things. But every single one that could be found had a scent so sickly sweet that Bowser couldn’t stomach it for longer than it took to offer weak pleasantries.
None inspired the will to court until he caught a whiff of Princess Peach.
Regardless of her alpha status, Bowser’s aging instincts demanded a mate to help through the worsening ruts. Her less syrupy smell with the barrel aged alcohol to temper that cloying fragrance of peaches made it so his stomach didn’t turn violently in her presence. Her status as royalty superseded her secondary gender anyway.
The cherry on top was when Bowser intelligence came back with the information that they uncovered of Peach having a preference for alphas. This gave Bowser a real chance at a mate.
Hearing that some new human, a mustachioed omega smelling of bananas and rum, was spending time with his potential alpha mate sent Bowser spiraling.
Why did it have to be an omega? Bowser could outmatch any alpha suitor for the princess, but the burly Koopa king could never compete with the gentleness of an omega.
He wasn’t going to lose his only shot at getting a mate!
*~*~*
They were set to arrive at the Jungle Kingdom the next day.
The journey so far had been equal parts wondrous as arduous, but it was the conversations with Peach that had been the most eye-opening. When Mario reached his limit and asked Peach if she could reel her pheromones in, she’d blinked in utter bewilderment at him.
“So, the other kingdoms are the same then. Where most citizens are betas and then the roughly 10% to 15% being alphas that make up the leadership roles?”
Peach snickers softly at Mario’s stunned summary as she throws the wood down for their campfire. His surprise dissolved into astonishment when Peach skillfully used one of the fire flowers to light it.
“You don’t seem like you’re from here.”
The red plumber from another world listened intently to Peach explaining the childhood she could recall of being raised by the Toads. How presenting as an alpha in a sea of betas left her without any means to learn how to control her pheromones, but how they got her ready to be their princess instead.
It was disquieting how her presenting as an alpha was all they needed to place the responsibilities of an entire kingdom on her shoulders. A muted understanding grew and connected to Mario’s own experiences after his first heat.
In the uncertainty of this vastly different world that held his precious twin brother captive, Mario felt his confidence in his chest with a fiery blossoming. The sweet fruity brandy of the magnificent woman beside him blended with the blander bananas and spiced rum of his own unleashed pheromones drifting along the night breeze. Carried further by the notes from Toad’s pipe.
Mario didn’t know what they would be facing next, but they’d tackle it with their fists raised.