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Nope! I can't be the Villainess and Definitely not Male Lead's Mother!

So, I woke up on the day I was supposed to be executed. You know, normal Tuesday stuff. My head was chilling on a wooden platform, and there was this tiny blade dangling right above my neck. Cute, right? Just waiting to slice through and end my fantastic life. Naturally, I thought, "How do I get out of this mess?" And what genius idea came to mind? Pregnancy! Yep, I faked a pregnancy. And not just any pregnancy — I told the Emperor, the very psycho who ordered my execution, that I was carrying his child. Spoiler alert: I was definitely not. But hey, it worked! I kept my head attached to my body. However, when the universe is determined to mess with you, even a fake baby bump can't save you forever. I kept up the act for a whole month before finally running away. Ah, freedom! No more psycho Emperor, no more looming execution, just me, living my best fake-pregnancy-free life, laughing like I was finally out of a bad soap opera. Or so I thought. Because of course, luck had to have the last laugh. Somehow, I ended up being the mother of the male lead. You heard that right. The male lead. In this ridiculous story, I’m not even his real mother, but here I am, stuck inside the palace with a literal murderer, aka the Emperor, who — plot twist! — killed the male lead’s actual mom and turned her into a freaking energy crystal. And now, I'm supposed to save the day. Me, the villainess who's not even supposed to be here. How? No clue. But one thing’s for sure, luck and I need to have a serious talk. Screw you, luck!
K1ERA · 12.1K Views

SHADOWS OF ELDRALORE

Emmie’s heart pounded as the figure rose from the shadows, thicker and grayer than before—a far more earthbound and sinister version of the one he thought he’d conquered. The sparkling light from the crystals above seemed to be sucked away, leaving a suffocating emptiness. Even the sound of his friends’ breaths around him grew faint, their voices—one of concern, another of reassurance—muffled echoes through the cavern behind him. Yet he knew he had to press forward, deeper into the darkness, and face this alone. For now. The figure stepped closer, slow and deliberate, its glowing eyes radiating an icy malevolence. “You think you’ve overcome your fears?” it hissed, its voice sharp and grating. “That was nothing. I am the fog inside you—the one you ignore, the one that carves at you.” Emmie swallowed hard, forcing himself upright despite the shaking in his legs. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said, summoning courage he didn’t fully feel. “I’ve come too far to turn back.” The figure’s laughter crawled down his spine. “Brave, so brave… but so foolish. You’ve barely begun to uncover the truths buried in your soul. Your doubts, your regrets, your anger—they feed me.” For a moment, Emmie faltered. The words clawed at wounds he’d tried to ignore, stirring his doubts: Could he truly protect his friends? Were his choices enough? The darkness seemed to press closer, suffocating him with its weight. But then he remembered Mira’s voice, full of faith. He thought of Amara’s bright laughter and Cory’s unwavering support. They had believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself. “Maybe I do doubt,” Emmie admitted, meeting the figure’s glowing gaze. “But those doubts don’t define me. My friends believe in me, and I believe in myself.” The figure’s eyes narrowed, frustration flickering within. “Conviction alone won’t save you,” it hissed. “Your friends are far, and here, it’s just you and me.” It raised its arm, and the shadows coiled into smoky tendrils, striking toward him. Emmie dodged just in time as they slammed into the ground, shattering the stone and sending shards flying. His heart raced, his footing unsteady, but he pushed himself upright. A faint light flickered in his hand—small but wholly his. The figure laughed, mocking him. “Is that all? A tiny flicker? Pathetic.” Emmie clenched his jaw. “It’s enough,” he said. “This light is everything I fought for, everything I believe in.” The figure snarled, and the darkness surged again, crashing against Emmie’s light. Straining against the tide, he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He thought of his friends, their unwavering faith, and his purpose. The light steadied, burning brighter. At that moment, he heard their voices—Mira, Amara, and Cory—calling to him. The sound reignited his resolve. As their light joined his, the shadow recoiled, its form shattering under their combined strength. The figure’s voice echoed as it faded: “This isn’t over, Emmie. This is just the beginning.” Emmie stood firm, unwavering. “I’ll be ready. Let’s finish this.”
WordsmithX · 5K Views
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