It's hard to focus on an epic team huddle when your mind is on the other side of the field, looking at some interdimensional magic twink usurping your place next to your boyfriend. Hayden is touching his shoulders, guys. He's giving him the shoulder touch!

Granted, it's because they're all huddled together, and as any thinly-veiled homoerotic football movie has taught us, grabbing each other's shoulders in a huddle is the most Christian-approved way to manhandle a bro without it being offensive to the heteros. Why nobody blinks an eye when they spank each other whenever they go in and out of the field is beyond me. Maybe God approves of some light, no-hom spanking on the side.

"Hey, killer," screeches the vampwolf, taking away my attention from the shoulder orgy just beyond my line of sight, "get your head in the game, or I'll use your head in the game. Like a ball."

"First of all, I said I was sorry," I say, huddled between the furry—which, and I shouldn't be saying this since it's a given, is panting like a pug in a moderately warm day—and Bulsion, the half-bull-half-alligator beast—who is somehow quieter than the furry. "Second, who died and made you my boss?"

"I'm with the killer here," says the flying pixie, Piston Uvula Tennessee, or whatever her name is. "If there's royalty among us, it would be me, the queen of fairies! We were the rulers of the forest before those damn heteromorphs came in and ruined everything with their ethnic dishwashers and overtly-spiced shoes!"

Both Bulsion and the Vampwolf exclaim grunts of disapproval as they physically lean away from the pixie.

"What? It's true!" yells the pixie.

"Bulsion does not condone racism," says the half-beast.

"Yeah, you tiny biggot. This is why nobody likes you!" says the vampwolf. "What happened with the forest being the hills of the free and the treehouse of the brave? Our founding parents wanted this land to be a haven for all of us!"

"Your founding parents invaded this sacred forest!" yells the pixie. "We were here first! But don't worry, I'll make the forest great again, and I'll build a huge vine wall and I'll make those damn sasquatches pay for it!"

The half-beast stands proudly, puffing his ample chest to assert dominance. To me, I just looks like a nice brisket I would slow-cook over a weekend. "Bulsion will never allow monarchy to reign here again. Bulsion will be the new protector of the forest, and will usher a new era of cooperation, wherever the people, and not the protector, will seize the means of production. The people will rule themselves, in a spirit of equality and fraternity. No more shall the rich prey on the poor!"

"You talk funny, big boy," says the furry. I want it on the record that he's been fondling my back this whole time, and I'm 70% sure he's trying to cop a feel, his fursuit doesn't let him. "Why don't we go to the bathroom, I'll make a hole between the stalls, and you fill my politburo with your proletariat?"

"Bro, what the fuck are you doing here?" I say. "Like, seriously. This is a serious matter. Are you lost? Want me to call you an uber?"

The furry slowly turns towards me as the deafening crinkle of a used diaper activates a primal fear deep inside my soul. "Man, I don't even know. I'm high on molly, my viagra is wearing off, and nobody wants to jiff. I mean, I spent the last fifteen minutes practically begging for some tail, and everyone seems, like, disgusted with me! They all say 'ew' and 'please no, I surrender,' and disappear into a tower of light. This is the worst Furry convention I've been to since the pandemic."

"Bro, this ain't a furry convention. It's a forest in the middle of nowhere with real magic creatures. Does this look like a convention ground to you? Take a whiff—It doesn't smell like b.o."

The blue furry looks around, then at the sky, with all the beautiful tapestry of stars never seen in modern cities, then at the floating platform we are in. "You mean, this isn't the Boston Marriott Copley Hotel?"

"Nope. Forest in the middle of nowhere. How did you even get here in the first place?"

The furry looks down as his animatronic ears lop down with a mechanical whirl. His stitched smile doesn't sell it as well, though. "I dunno, man. I just got into a shuttle at the airport with a bunch of other people I thought were furries. Next thing I knew, I was brought here. No wonder everyone's fursuit looks so real!"

"Good, good," I say.

Again, the furry turns towards Bulsion, reaching out to touch his shoulders. "So, no quickie, then?"

This is why furries don't deserve human rights. Wanna be animals? Be treated like an animal. Sadly, I don't have a spray bottle full of water to punish the horny away.

"Hey, blue bitch!" growls the Vamwolf, making the furry jump in anticipation. "You're some kind of pervert, right? Like to have balls slap you in the face?"

I'm glad there is a whole-ass fursuit between me and the guy, because I can literally feel him shake with anticipation. His ears perk up while another mechanical whirl activates his tail left and right. "Yes, daddy, uwu. This good boy likes to be hit in the face with balls!"

"Good, then you will be my shield," says the vampwolf.

Needless to say, his words are like a cold bucket over the furry. Even his tail goes down in whatever the feeling contrary to horniness is. Holiness?

"The rest of you," says the Vampwolf, turning towards us, "don't get in my way. And don't dare touch that mutt McHuman. His ass is grass, and I'm a mower."

"Again, the only people that can tell me what to do are my daddies, and I have two of them already," I say. "You fucking watch your profanity, and be a good flying rat."

I think I struck a nerve there. The Vamwolf, just like Bulsion before him, stands up straight and puffs his chest, just with a pair of bat breasts instead of a brisket. Somehow, I don't think that Kentucky Fried Bat would be a good hit with the youth, though. He breaks the huddle, taking a step forward towards me. I mean, his raw breasts are right there at eye level. The guy is huge. If he thinks he's gonna intimidate me with his girth, well, sorry to tell you, but-

"I'm sorry," says the Vamwolf, slumping forwards like a wet chicken, "I know I'm being irritable. It's just... look, I'm gonna be honest with you, I don't care who the next protector is, I just wanna make sure that Okayden dick doesn't make it. I'm just stressed out. As the alpha of my pack, I can't afford myself to lose. You understand, right?"

Everyone gives him an understanding nod, even the furry. I, however, am too normy to understand the subtext. "Yeah, no. I don't."

The Vamwolf scratches the back of his head like a kid caught selling his mother's underwear to his friends for a nickel. "C'mon, human. Don't make me spell it out for you."

"You don't need to spell it. As a protagonist, I can read everything. But I can't read your mind. Spill the beans, Count Dankula."

He sighs, deflating those hairy breasts of his', grabbing his other hand while avoiding my eyes. "Look, there can't be two alpha werewolves in a pack. If he wins, he will be the alpha of the whole forest. When a new alpha takes control of a pack, the old alpha becomes an Omega, the bitch of the pack, to be the alpha's plaything. And I'm too young to get pregnant! Hell, I'm still a rear-end virgin..."

I'm sorry, am I missing something? "How does one thing lead to the other? And I'm sorry to ask this, as I know that gender is something we shouldn't assume, but... aren't you a boy werewolf?"

There's a hell of a bunch of hair on their face, but I swear I can see the vamwolf blush. "Of course I am! Which makes this a battle not only for the future of the forest, but of my body autonomy!"

I'm still incredibly lost. Unfortunately, the furry leans further into me, trying to whisper over the commotion of the crowd. "Dude, haven't you read any omegaverse fanfic, like, ever? Everybody knows male werewolves have a uterus in their rectum.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, Omegas having uteri in their rectum is a common thing in Omegaverse fiction/fanfiction. However, dwelling on the "mpreg" theme would make this story Mature, as such, we shall avoid the theme altogether. Just know, male werewolves do get pregnant.

Yeah, I'm gonna go with the mysterious author note over there. The moment the word "Fanfic" was uttered, I'm out. "Look, bro, whatever floats your boat. I'm all about body autonomy and shit. You bussy, your choice."

The racist pixie floats in the middle of the huddle, as if to catch our attention. "Well, if we're calling dibs, I'll take that Brayden twerp. He massacred my people!"

Interesting. Very interesting. I was wondering how the idiot managed to shoot up to number one. "Oh? Do tell."

"I was with 80 of my best warriors, just milling about, hunting these filthy heteromorphs, as one does, when we came across this... squirt! We thought he was going to be an easy prey, so we pounced on him and, slap!" she says, slapping her tiny hands in front of my face. "Slap, slap, slap! One after the other, slapped out of the air like mosquitoes! It took us by surprise. Once the first few fell to his nefarious hands, there was mass panic in our ranks. Many sacrificed themselves to let me escape. But their sacrifice will not be in vain. I'll rain down my vengeance upon him!"

Oh, my sweet, racist pixie. He's a bad boy with plot armor. Hell will freeze over before a fan favorite gets his comeuppance.

"I call dibs on the lanky, magical bitch over there," I say, pointing at, I guess Jayden, no? Dumn fucking name. "I have a score to settle. Got any grudges, Bulsion?"

"Bulsion is a true egalitarian," says Bulsion. "I hate everyone the same."

"And what do I do, daddy?" asks the furry.

"I told you, you're gonna be my balls shield!" says the Vamwolf.

The furry trembles in excitement as he covers his furry mouth. "Yes, daddy!"

The magic lights conveniently convert on the podium just as we reach a consensus. The crowd goes wild as the dragnpa takes center stage. Raising his cane, he shuts the crowd to a low murmur. "We will now begin the match. Are the teams ready?"

We break our huddle and get into our starting position at the end of the platform. I'm on the far right corner, and opposite to me is Brayden, picking his nose and tossing it to the void. To my left is the fairy, followed by Bulsion in the middle, the Vamwolf, and the furry in the far left position. Next to Brayden is Trevor the Man-man, followed by Hayden in the middle, Jayden, and Okayden in the far left corner.

I'm kinda worried about Hayden. His eyes are just as unhinged as the last time we played dodgeball, and for those of you who don't remember how that went, it ended up with me with a full-blown concussion, a pair of soiled pants, and a bruised ego. And that was with my ball-proof glasses on!

"On your marks," says the dragnpa as green energy gthers on the tip of his cane, "get set... play ball!"

A ball of light shoots out of the tip of the cane, exploding in the air in a flower of green sparks. I wonder if they know that fireworks are a thing. Seems like a waste of good mana. It is very pretty, but I don't have the time to appreciate it as both Okayden and the Vamwolf fly to the center of the court in a flash, leaving everyone else in the dust.

Okayden, with his wings, has the upper edge and arrives in the blink of an eye. He takes two balls and shoots them at the Vamwolf. The force breaks the wind barrier, making a white halo appear as he shoots forward. But the Vamwolf grabs the furry at the last second, using him as a shield to tank the balls. One hits him in the gallbladder, and the other in the leg.

"Thank you, daddy..." whispers the furry as he disappears in a column of light.

"Captain Wagtail has been eliminated!" says the dragnpa.

Thank you for your sacrifice, Captain Wagtail. Your piss-smelling sacrifice will be noted.

It's enough of an opening for the vamwolf to take the balls that bounced on the furry and shooting one at Okayden with double the strength. He might be slower, but he's definitely stronger. Okayden takes to the air at the last second, dodging the ball.

"No, you won't!" yells the vamwolf. He snaps his fingers which makes a white sparkle emit from his hand. An ice platform materializes in front of him, floating in mid-air. He takes a leap from it. The strength of his legs allows him to practically jump as if flying. He soon matches Okayden's flight height. A new platform materializes with a snap of his fingers, allowing him to ricochet off it mid-flight to flank Okayden. Another sonic boom, another ball flying towards Okayden, but he caught it this time.

Not for long, though. Okayden makes a loop-de-loop and throws the ball at the Vamwolf, who blocks it with an ice panel. I can watch them go back and forth all day, were it not for the ball that just flew past my face while cracking in white electricity. I turn around to see the source of the magic ball: Hayden, spinning an electric ball on the tip of his index finger while Trevor the Man-man is supercharging it with magic from his cane/staff. So that's how they team up. Interesting.

"Eyes on the ball, babe," says Hayden with a full-blown bad boy smirk. I'm talking "stealing your lunch money, pushing you into a toilet bowl while giving you a wedgie" kind of bad boy jock smirk. He's on the deep end.

"You know, when I said I wanted you to drag your balls all over my face-" I begin to quip, but he launches another ball at my face. I do dodge it at the last second, but I have a sinking feeling he's toying with me, like a cowboy shooting at a guy's feet to make him dance, when all it really takes is a nice bouquet of flowers, a nice dinner and some dental hygiene. All I'm saying is that cowboys are the tsunderes of the wild west.

"You know what, babe? You're kinda being a dick!"

"My love, don't be like that," says Hayden, making basketball tricks like a Globethrotter. "Just take my balls to the chin like a man and you'll be out of here. After all, we want Okayden to win, right? If you go down, that's one less member for the enemy team."

Oh, dip. Kinda forgot what this was all about. I'm not supposed to win. You have to forgive me, dear reader. Losing as a protagonist is not something I'm used to. I usually fall ass-backwards into victory, or at least into plot. Whichever is more convenient. "That's fair. Yeah, good plan. Shoot me, babe! Just... don't hit me too hard."

As much in a bad boy mood as he is, he gently lobs one of the balls, without any magic, towards my face. I close my eyes to feel the gentle popping of a rubber ball on my face, like any girl from grade 2 to 8 who just so happens to even glance at a school gymnasium, but the hit never comes. I do feel a slight change in lighting, like there is something huge in front of me. I open my eyes to see a huge hand protecting my face, having caught the ball just before it hit me.

"Don't worry, little human," says Bulsion, handling the ball as if it were a tender marble made of ground beef, "Bulsion will take care of them. Go get the magic twink."

Damn, Bulsion. You're gonna make me blush. Such a gentle monster. "Thank you, Bulsion. You're a good man, beast, thing, but-"

"Go, now," yells the monster. He shoots the ball like a marble, ripping the air as it barely misses a dodging Hayden.

I honestly don't have the time or patience to deal with this. There's plenty of balls I can headbutt around here. I just need a schmuck to help me bail out from this clusterfuck, and wouldn't you know it, there's my favorite idiot, Brayden, with a ball in his hands and a can't-do-shit attitude. This will be easy.

I jog towards the line, where a very uncomfortable Brayden is trying to look busy while glancing at the dragnpa. I think he believes the dragnpa is a P.E teacher or something.

"Hey, buddy, friend, friendo, besto pal," I tell him as close as I can to the middle line, "what you doing there?"

Brayden looks at me with the disdain of a depressed dachshund, and just about as cuddly. "ugh, i fucking hate p.e. i don't even have my good shorts that make my ass look like a snack. it's hot, humid, there's a buncha mosquitoes humming around. hey, be a dear and just graze me with this ball, yeah?"

He gently rolls the ball towards me like a bowling ball, stopping just before it hits me. Dammit. "Oh, no, no, no. I wanna gonna ask you to do the same. Please, avoid the face."

I punt the ball just beyond his reach, careful not to touch him. He puts his foot on top like a conqueror of the playground and gently moves it over the line.

"no, no, no. i asked you first. daddy needs his beauty sleep."

"No, I insist, please, pelt me with your ball," I say while dragging the ball toward him.

"i don't swing that way, no," says Brayden, moving the ball. "i really don't wanna be here."

"Neither do I," I say, punting it back.

"that sounds like a you problem, to be honest," says Brayden, returning my punt. The kick is a bit too hard, flying over me. Great, now I'll have to go get it. Dick.

I turn around to see the ball suspended in mid-air. Now, I'm not a physics man, but I believe the "theory" part of the theory of gravity is mostly a formality. It should come down, and yet, it's not. Not only that, but the ball is moving towards Brayden. Slowly but surely, moving through the air. Any second now. It moves through the line, just above Brayden's head. All it has to do is drop down, and that would be an assured hit.

And yet, instead of dropping down, it's sadly thrown, missing by a foot. Such level of incompetence can only come from a little racist pixie, which in lieu of magic powers, picked the ball up with her bare hands, and missed.

"Damn you, squirt!" yells the pixie, crossing the line and getting all over Brayden's face. "You crippled half my men, destroyed us with reckless abandonment, and you dare to just... defy me like this? You will never get away with-"

The rest of her spiel is cut short by a well-placed slap from Brayden, making her the stuffing of a literal knuckle sandwich. Her body flies down in a spiral, not even making a sound.

"fucking mosquitoes think they can suck me off without consent," whispers Brayden as he wipes the blood off his hands.

A red beam of light shines on Brayden as alarms blare off in the distance. "No physical contact allowed! Technical fault, Brayden Messina-Park. You have been disqualified."

The red beam dematerializes Brayden, but not before he gives me a mocking, shit-guzzling smile that only a kid that got away with putting gum on his sister's hair can give. That fucker. Another small beam of light takes the pixie away.

That makes us 3 on 4. Great, we are losing! Maybe I can wiggle my way out of this hellhole without getting balled in the face.

No, wait, now it's 2 on 4. Just as I turn around, the body of Bulsion falls backwards, impacted by a shotgun of three balls at the same time. His body doesn't even get to hit the floor when the light takes him away.

"Bulsion the half-beast has been eliminated!" yells the dragnpa, to the delight of the audience.

It's now down to the vamwolf and me. Fun.

"You didn't have to go that hard, you know," I tell Hayden as I grab a ball from the ground.

"Hey, what can I say? Bitch kept going and going," says Hayden. "Ready to surrender?"

Yeah, I'm pretty ready, but I lowkey wanna try and punt a ball into Jayden's face. Speaking of which, where is he? He has a ballable face. Above us, there's only Okayden and the Vamwolf playing 4D dodgeball, and he's not on the field. Another thing that's missing is a ball. Three are in my side of the court, while one is being used by the pair above. This smells fishy.

No, not fishy. This smells... gingerly.

Suddenly, both Jayden and the ball materialize just behind Hayden. Trevor the Man-man's cane shines with electric power that envelops Jayden's ball. I can't even say anything as Jayden pulls back and unleashes a magically charged ball right in the middle of Hayden's back at point blank.

Hayden flies through the air, air knocked out of his lung, all the way to my side of the field and beyond, plummeting at the bottom of the stadium, along with my heart with him. Luckily, a white light saves him from plummeting toward his untimely death.

"Hayden Wilson has been eliminated!"

But... I'm not promising that nobody else is going to die. I expected Jayden to betray us, and even the ginger, as they are wanton to do. But both at the same time? This is heinous, even for a filthy redhead.

Fuck getting booted. This is personal. I'm cutting down a bitch or two tonight.