Coven_smut

MC: Rika (Femele Fujoshi in Omega Male Body)

Original Life:

Day job: Overworked, underpaid office assistant in a publishing firm, usually stuck fixing the copy machine or ghost-editing erotica for lazy male authors.

Night job: Secret identity as @BL4geddon, a popular underground smut manga artist, known for her disturbingly accurate depictions of alpha×alpha energy.

Constantly broke, so she’s forced to take boring editing jobs during the day—and draw d** jokes and breathy uke whimpers* at night.


Now in the novel?

Accidentally possessing Riven Zhaeris: A too-beautiful-for-this-world omega who smells like heat and sugar and says the most obscene things without knowing it.

Doesn’t even try to be seductive—she’s just constantly commentating like a dirty-minded fangirl, and the alphas are slowly unraveling.

Fujoshi Chaos Aura: Constantly draws yaoi doujins, makes A×A comments out loud, and thinks she's being subtle while literally eye-f**king every dramatic moment she witnesses.She still thinks like a woman—so her inner monologue is all about “these hot boys being dumb tsundere lovebirds.”

But everyone else sees a smirking, seductive omega who leans in during heated conversations, tilts his head just so, and "moans" softly while sketching.

This contrast between inner chaos gremlin and outer unintentional siren is what kills the alphas.

“Alpha,omega, I’m Just lost”

The Morning Fight Club: Riven vs. Morning Wood, Round 21.

It was there. Again. Proud. Defiant. Uninvited.

Riven glared at it like it stole her last rent check.

"Science. Just science," she muttered, grabbing the towel with all the dignity a former-office-smut-artist-trapped-in-a-sinful-male-body could muster.

She left the bathroom ten minutes later whispering, "That was for educational purposes only."

Mission: "Do Not Look Like a Walking Lust Spell" (Failed, again).

She started simple. Loose gray hoodie. Black joggers. A cap. Mask. Shades. Head down. "I am a shadow," she chanted internally.

She even tucked her hair into a low bun like a sad little librarian omega avoiding tax fraud.

"Why is this hoodie… sculpting my waist?"

"Did my thighs get rounder overnight?"

The trench coat came out for defense.

And the red heart choker because—well—it was her default accessory now.

"This is not sexy. This is survival."

"You're dressed like 'runaway omega heir to an underground pheromone cartel,'" Lustra said.

She threw her cap at the AI speaker.

Beta Café – Attempt #21 to Blend In.

She kept her head down. Tablet on. New manga: "The Therapist's Knotty Problem."

"Doctor, I think I'm leaking pheromones because I keep fantasizing about handcuffs and stethoscopes."

"I didn't even look at him this time!" Riven hissed.

She ended up steaming her own milk again while beta employees made fake calls to hide in the back.

Therapist Time: Dr. Halien, Now 83% Confused.

Riven sat like a very tired but incredibly well-lit disaster.

"I just wanted someone to talk to, y'know? Not because of heat or trauma or my beautifully constructed ass, but because I'm—"

She paused. Realized her legs were crossed too perfectly.

"Doctor, I feel like I'm walking sin. People blush at my sighs. I said 'penetrate the plot line' in a manga meeting and the intern ran away."

"...You feel unseen?" Halien asked.

"Yes! But not invisible. Like people only see…this." She gestured vaguely at her accidental eroticism.

"And not the fujoshi who just wants to write emotionally disturbed omegas who cry during heat and fall for alphas with abandonment issues!"

Halien nodded, took notes, and tried very hard not to look at the sliver of collarbone peeking from her coat.

"How do you usually cope with being misinterpreted?"

"Oh I draw it out all right. With sound effects. Sometimes multiple language versions."

"Interesting… Can I ask what your latest work is called?"

"The Knot Never Lies: Secrets of the Suppressed Omega's Denial Arc."

"Do you think... people around you project desire onto you, rather than truly seeing you?"

"They project, I correct. But at some point I gave up. Now I just exist, and apparently that's a sexual hazard."

"So the costume today was to… hide?"

"Yes. The hoodie was supposed to scream 'don't perceive me.' Instead, it whispered 'secret heat room in the back of the bookstore.'"

Halien scribbled so fast the pen squeaked.

"Not guilt. Just… exhaustion. I wanted a quiet reincarnation, not to become the fujoshi omega muse of the district."

"No. Poetic would be if someone finally asked me how I feel without imagining me with a gag and pheromone cuffs."

Night Journal Entry:

"Day 21. Hoodie: failed. Mirror: traitor. Therapist: halfway seduced, but emotionally validating. New manga draft halfway done. Beta baristas fear me. I just wanted to write sin, not become it. Must remember to research heat suppressant upgrades. Current ones glitch when I whisper 'alpha.'"

"P.S. I miss being invisible. But the trench coat? I'm keeping it. Drama matters."

I Came to Heal, Not to Heel”