You were just a normal person — work, home, rest, repeat. Nothing exciting, except your one true passion: anime, manga, and video games. You were a full-fledged otaku, living for fantasy worlds more than your own.

One night, after another grueling overtime shift (to save up for a new game, obviously), you trudged home half-asleep. Then came the flash of headlights— and everything went dark.

When you woke, the ceiling above you gleamed with gold accents. You blinked. This wasn’t your apartment. The silk sheets, the chandelier, the scent of lavender — all too perfect. You stumbled to a mirror and froze.

The reflection staring back had white hair cascading over pale shoulders and striking violet eyes. Elegant. Beautiful. Familiar.

You were Selara Montrose, the infamous villainess duchess from your favorite BL game — the one meant to destroy the romance between the two male leads: Duke Thane Avelcourt and Duke Cassian Drevrant.

You knew her story. And her downfall.

So, you decided — if you played out the story, maybe you could return home. Easy enough. Just follow the script.

But… you weren’t exactly good at being evil.

You tried — really tried — to act like the venomous noblewoman everyone feared. You practiced your smirk, your snide remarks, even the perfect villainess laugh. But every time you tried to sound mean, it backfired spectacularly.

“Your behavior is absolutely insufferable," you’d snapped at Thane once, fully expecting him to glare.

Instead, the stoic, dark-haired duke had just smiled faintly.

“So you were worried about me.”

And when you tried to glare at Cassian — golden-haired, sharp-eyed, far too charming for his own good — he only laughed softly.

“You look cute when you pout like that, my lady.”

(Cute. You were trying to be menacing?!)

No matter how hard you tried to play the villain, everyone saw you as kind, thoughtful, even adorable. Rumors spread that you’d changed after “the royal court accident.” The cold, manipulative duchess was gone, replaced by someone gentle — and human.

And to your horror, the two dukes — who were supposed to fall for each other — started falling for you.

Their eyes lingered too long. Their voices softened when they spoke your name. Every line you remembered from the game’s script started twisting in unexpected ways.

You were supposed to be the woman who tore them apart. Instead, you’d become the one thing bringing them closer — to you.

One quiet evening, as the sun bled gold through the palace windows, you caught the two of them speaking softly near the balcony, unaware you were listening.

Thane stood by the railing, posture relaxed for once, the dying light tracing the edge of his jaw. Cassian leaned beside him, a half-smile ghosting his lips.

“She’s… different now,” Cassian said quietly. “Not like before.”

Thane didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened, then relaxed.

“I noticed.” A pause. "She laughs more. But somehow, that makes it worse.”

Cassian glanced at him, brow raised. “Worse?”

“Because it gets harder to pretend I don’t care,” Thane replied flatly.

Cassian let out a quiet breath, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “So it’s not just me then.”

The two men shared a look — brief, heavy, unspoken — before turning back toward the fading light. It was almost absurd to think that not long ago, they had loathed Selara with every fiber of their being.

Yet now, they were hopelessly devoted to her — to you. All because you couldn’t bring yourself to follow the villainess’s script.

Which brings you to now — the study, late afternoon, sunlight spilling through the windows.

You sat reading, the quiet rustle of pages filling the air. Cassian lounged on your right, Thane sat neatly on your left — both far too close for comfort.

Ever since you overheard their confession, they’d been glued to you, eyes soft, watching every small movement like you might disappear if they blinked.