━━━━━ 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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"What is she up to now?"
"As expected. The child unwanted by Count Aragon."
"I heard she stirred a lot of trouble for Lord Livio. Really, the nerve!"
Y/n sneaks a glance at Arion. A small part of him wonders if the Prince is silently gloating over the venom aimed at Angelina—but Arion looks more irritated by the crowd pressing in. He is still angry. Y/n knows that anger well enough by now: it shows in a softened voice, narrowed eyes, a disbelieving, sardonic smile.
"Don't listen to them," Y/n murmurs. "They're speaking nonsense. Paying them heed won't do you any good." Yet he knows.
This is the moment where Angelina's mental state takes the biggest blow. Hearing her deepest insecurity spill so casually from the mouths of strangers is cruel in a way that cuts deeper than any blade.
"It's not rumors, though..." Angelina swallows. "I'm sorry, Brother. I'm sorry, Your Highness."
Arion glances at Y/n—then at their intertwined hands. Y/n squeezes gently, reassurance pressed into skin, hoping nothing goes wrong—
"What's going on here?"
That voice grates on Y/n's nerves. He whirls around, eyes widening; lips thinning; disgust curls within him, alongside the small, subtle burning of hatred. There isn't really a reason to hate him; beyond the man's annoying personality — but Y/n supposes he has long since tied him to his first failure of an event.
Elliot.
That busybody.
[You have unsuccessfully disrupted the event. Failure will lead to a bad ending as a penalty.]
How could he forget? There is an event happening—and Elliot is meant to ruin everything.
Well; Y/n doesn't care.
"Elliot? Since when—" Angelina stops midway.
Elliot raises his sword—seriously, does he carry it everywhere?—and points the tip directly at Arion. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, and someone stifles a started shriek.
"Do you not feel shame," Elliot demands, "at hurting a young maiden's pride?"
(The exact same words as the game.)
"If I recall correctly," Arion replies mildly, "she initiated the conversation. I was speaking with Livio."
"Arion," Y/n whispers sharply, "I think—"
"Talking?" Elliot snaps. "Then why does she look so distressed?"
"Perhaps because she called me a murderer first," Arion says calmly. "I assume you would take offense to that word as well?"
The blade presses against his neck; Arion does not flinch — he won't, despite the suffocating tension — and this is all too familiar, too close to the scene Y/n remembers all too well.