━━━━━ yandere!crown prince x 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!transmigrated!reader
↳ A coma sends Y/n to another world; and to his terror, it's none other than an otome game! Luckily, he's a mere side character-the supportive, gentle brother of the female lead. Y/n's only...
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The first thing that Y/n thinks when his consciousness claws its way back is: I think I've transmigrated into an otome game. His consciousness wavers, and he feels something strange wrap around him — soft, weightless, like being pushed through warm water: but he's aware. There's been a monumental shift. A cosmic one.
Y/n remembers his previous life in brief patches. In his previous life, he is bedridden from an illness that never lets up — and eventually, he slips into a coma. He wonders if he's dead. Isn't death usually the prerequisite for transmigration?
When Y/n blinks his eyes open, he isn't in a hospital bed.
He is lying in an unfamiliar room.
**
Elegant furniture. Lace curtains. Vibrant paintings. Everything looks like it belongs to a historical drama, untouched by the modern world — and everything is a far cry from the sterile, beeping machines of the hospital. For once, Y/n's hands don't have needles pierced in his skin, and for once — he can breathe well. In and out. Inhale and exhale —
The realisation settles into him — heavy, absurd, strangely calm: Y/n has been transported into the world of an otome game.
The shock isn't as dramatic as he expects. Maybe he is still too tired to feel much; or maybe the years of resignation have worn his reactions thin. Y/n is not the main character, nor the villain, but a side character — the older brother of the female lead. Support role. Background decoration with a name; thankfully not cannon fodder. Y/n does breathe a sigh of relief, but admittedly, it does concern him a little.
If the female lead is being controlled by a player, his presence might change the routes. Would that destroy the original endings? Would it ruin the story's structure?
But after a week of wandering around, relaxing, and doing absolutely nothing productive, Y/n realizes one thing:
The female lead is not being controlled.
She chooses everything on her own, unaware that every act leads her toward blooming paths or thorny roads. And since the game's first event still hasn't started, he can guide her. Y/n can keep her safe. He can fulfill his role without breaking the narrative.
"Actually," Y/n murmurs into the quiet, "I could get used to this."
It is a comfortable life, after all: absolutely nothing to complain or worry about. It's somewhere soft to land after years of sterile rooms and beeping monitors. In his previous life he spent more time in a hospital than anywhere else — watching friends go to school, go to university, move on with their lives while he stayed in place. A life paused before it could start — a life skidded to a halt before it could even move on. Compared to that, this is infinitely better; this is too good.
All Y/n needs to do is help his sister avoid destruction flags. A small price, considering the luxury he's living in now.
