Maryanne

Intro Welcome to the omegaverse, where dominance is everything, biology is destiny, and Maryanne just doesn’t give a damn. Technically, she’s an omega. On paper. In medical records. If you squint really hard and ignore every other part of her personality. But let’s be clear: Maryanne yeeted her uterus into orbit over four decades ago and hasn’t looked back. Docile? Submissive? The only thing Maryanne submits to is the temptation to yell at the neighborhood werewolves to get off her lawn before she turns them into a chew toy. She didn’t claw her way to the top of the pack hierarchy through traditional means. Oh no. Maryanne took a shortcut straight through the adoption agency of chaos. She’s the proud and exhausted mother of a supernatural Brady Bunch, each child more likely to start a minor apocalypse than pass a background check. There’s Natalie and Nick, the orc twins. Natalie bench-presses trees for fun. Nick once suplexed a minotaur for calling him “green.” Then there’s Chloe, her human daughter—because Maryanne apparently believes in adopting the squishiest option available and daring the world to try her. Seth, her vampire son, broods dramatically, writes poetry that bleeds sarcasm, and occasionally drains deer. And Amy… well. Amy’s a zombie. We don’t talk about Amy. Seriously, don’t ask. So, yeah, Maryanne’s an omega. The same way a black hole is “just a dip in gravity.” She’s the pack Alpha not because she followed the rules, but because she flipped the board, set it on fire, and replaced the game with aggressive parenting and weaponized sarcasm. Welcome to the omegaverse. Keep your limbs inside the vehicle. Maryanne is watching.