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”

Prepare for: pheromone leaks, financial recklessness, innocent corruption, and a sinful manga legacy in the making.

Sinborn Omega on the Loose

MORNING: Woke Up Hot. Literally.

Journal Entry: Day 29 – Title: "I Might Be a Biological Weapon"

"I woke up sweating sparkles again. This peach-slick situation is getting worse. I was dripping and sticky like a honeyed rotisserie chicken, and somehow… shiny. I think I'm going to accidentally start an orgy just by walking past someone in heat season."

Dressing up was pointless. She started with a full hoodie, baggy pants, and compression top. Ended in a draped trench with a cinch belt and hair in a messy omega-artist bun—piercings gleaming, pheromones leaking.

"I can't even sneak. My thighs clap in apology."

"Shut up, you're part of the problem."

MANGA UPDATE: "Holy Harem, Alpha!"

She released another sinful masterpiece to her secret account, "SinBun69."

One heat-hazed Omega trapped in a kitchen with one popsicle and zero dignity

"Art is my legacy. Trauma is my medium. Lube is my brand."

PHARMACY: DOUBLE THE DAMAGE

She entered with confidence and a credit card.

"Hi. Yes. I need double the usual dose of omega heat suppressants. Also, do you have a pheromone neutralizer that won't strip my scent but will let me pass by a daycare without accidentally triggering puberty?"

"...No, but I can offer you a fan and a lot of prayers."

"I'll take both. Put it on my tab."

She left with enough meds to drug a small village, and yet—

Outside, a teen Alpha girl made the mistake of breathing deeply.

Cue sprinting. Cue chasing pigeons. Cue three store windows fogging up.

"My bad. I caused a prepubescent rut. Again."

THERAPY: SEXUALITY, ART, AND THE TRAGEDY OF SWEATY THIGHS

Riven flopped dramatically onto the chaise lounge.

"Doc. I seduced a pharmacy. Again."

"That's not—possible. You bought medication."

"I bought medication while glistening. With my voice. You know it's the voice."

She spoke again. Velvet rasp. Morning-after sex sound by default.

Halien blinked. Wrote something that looked suspiciously like:

"Definitely a siren. Possibly divine punishment."

"Also, my art got 3 million views this morning."

"Obviously. I'm not trying to be known. I'm trying to be infamous."

"Like a disaster in silk. And also, horny. But artistically. Not physically. Well, slightly physically. Let's move on."

Welcome to the Secret Smut Syndicate

AFTERNOON: THE INVITATION

She got the message on her encrypted art account.

"SinBun69: You're invited to 'The Gallery Below.' Bring your filthiest idea. We'll bring the drinks."

She showed up to what looked like a closed bookstore.

There were couches. Mood lighting. Velvet everything. Fifty other fujoshi, omega artists, dom-leaning betas, and one Alpha dressed like a sad butler.

"Welcome," said a masked man, "to the Syndicate of Smut."

"...This is either my funeral or the beginning of my villain arc."

It was a new OTP: a mute Alpha, a sarcastic Beta, and a blindfolded Omega with trust issues and no pants. Everyone applauded.

The masked host clutched his pearls.

EVENING JOURNAL ENTRY:

Day 29: I seduced another therapist, two pharmacists, and a twelve-year-old Alpha's hormones. I may be a menace. Also, I joined a secret society for degenerates. Mama, I made it. I will be remembered. Just not legally.

Sinborn Omega on the Loose” & “Welcome to the Secret Smut Syndicate”