[Name] was the girl everyone either wanted to be, or wanted to date. Rich, effortlessly beautiful, and entirely too dumb for calculus. She had charm, though, the kind that made people forgive her for forgetting her own locker code five times in a day.
Isaac on the other hand, was the boy people only noticed when they needed an answer. Top student, sharp tongue, always wearing that perfectly neutral expression like nothing in the world could faze him.
That is, until [Name] tripped over her own bag and dropped her iced coffee all over his notes.
“Oh my god— I— I didn’t mean to! I swear! I— you can spill coffee on me if you want! Wait.. no not— uh, I mean—”
He just stared at her. Then sighed, grabbed a napkin, and said quietly.
“Relax. I’ll rewrite it later.”
Most people expected him to bite back, like he usually did, but he didn’t. Instead, he even offered her his handkerchief.
And that’s where it began.
🍬
It started as a deal. She’d pay him with snacks and coffee (occasionally money) if he tutored her.
The first time she showed up to the library. She brought an entire box of strawberry pocky.
“These are peace offerings. For my stupidity.”
He stares at her, and let out a chuckle.
“You'll need more than this, Y/N.”
But he still opened the box and took one.
She would always be sitting across from him. Struggling with writing her notes, sneaking glances whenever he pushed his glasses up or frowned in concentration. He never fails to notice.
Of course she’d always fall asleep over her open notebook. He’d sigh, carefully taking the pen from her hand, and whisper softly,
“Hopeless girl…”
And then he’d finish her notes for her. Every time.
🍬
It was raining when [Name] ran out of her dorm without an umbrella. Of course, she hadn’t thought of it. She hadn’t thought of much that day, except whether her latest Totoro figurine had arrived.
Isaac was waiting by the library exit, holding one of the two umbrellas he always carried. He tilted it so that she was fully covered.
“Move closer,”
He said softly, adjusting the umbrella.
She laughed, pressing her arm against his.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I did”
He replied, not looking at her.
“I like walking next to you. It’s… easier this way.”
🍬
Lunchtime brought other people into their orbit. A boy she didn’t know too well laughed at one of her stories, and she threw her head back, grinning. Isaac slid into the seat beside her quietly, letting his presence speak before words could.
“Do you really need commentary on this story?”
He murmured, just to her. She would then giggle mischievously.
“Maybe… a little?”
He leaned closer, voice low.
“I prefer if your laughter is mine, exclusively.”
She shook her head, laughing. Thinking he was joking. But Isaac noticed how she blushed. He smiled faintly.
🍬
A/n : I don't know if I will make this a series or not. But Isaac is definitely my favorite oc! I still can't decide if I will use [Name] or Y/N. But both sounded nice, watcha think?
✾ ᴘʟᴏᴛ : You dated several men at the same time, each seeing you as a tool for their own benefit. They manipulated you for their gain, knowing that as long as the money kept coming, your obsession with them would never fade.
The screen of your phone cast a dim glow on your face as you scrolled through the app—Girlfriend for Hire (GFH). The concept was simple: people could hire temporary girlfriends for dates, social events, or just companionship. It was all transactional. No strings attached.
And you? You were just here for the money.
You let out a small hum as you scrolled through requests, eyeing the most lucrative ones. Then, a particular name caught your attention: Nanami Kento.
A professor? That was rare. Most of your clients were businessmen, socialites, or the occasional celebrity. You clicked on his profile, curiosity piqued.
- Reason for hire: Workplace expectations
- Duration: Ongoing contract
- Conditions: No unnecessary public affection. Keep it professional.
A no-nonsense type. You smirked.
Interesting.
---
The first time you met him, it was at a quiet coffee shop near his university. He was punctual, arriving exactly at the agreed time. Dressed in a crisp suit with his blond hair neatly styled, he exuded an air of strict professionalism.
"You must be Nanami-san." You offered your hand with a practiced smile.
He hesitated briefly before shaking it. "Miss [Y/N]. Thank you for meeting me."
The handshake was firm but impersonal. You noted the way he observed you, as if assessing whether you were worth the investment.
"I like to set expectations early," he began, adjusting his cuffs. "This arrangement is not romantic. It is purely practical. My colleagues assume I have no social life. Having a girlfriend—real or otherwise—would put an end to unnecessary speculation."
You nodded, resting your chin on your hand. "Understood. And what exactly do you need from me? Dates? Dinners? Meeting colleagues?"
"All of the above," he confirmed. "But I have conditions. No excessive public displays of affection. No dramatics. And absolutely no real attachment."
You let out a soft chuckle. "You make it sound like I’d actually fall for you."
For the first time, a flicker of something crossed his face—amusement? Annoyance? You couldn't tell.
"People tend to blur the lines," he said simply. "I’d rather avoid complications."
---
Nanami was a man of structure. He set up a schedule for your meetings, sending you calendar invites like it was a business transaction.
At first, your outings were stiff, routine-like. You played your part well—attentive, supportive, but never too eager.
But then you started acting obsessed.
It started small. Lingering stares, soft sighs, subtle touches. You tilted your head whenever he spoke, smiling just a little too dreamily. You would occasionally mumble things under your breath like, "Nanami-kun, you’re so reliable… so strong…"
One evening, as you both sat in a quiet restaurant, you reached across the table, gently brushing your fingers against his wrist.
"Kento" you said softly, "I think about you all the time."
He froze mid-bite. Slowly, he set his utensils down, eyes narrowing slightly. "[Y/N]. This is a hired service."
You tilted your head, lips curling. "Is it? Because it doesn’t feel like that to me."
He exhaled sharply, as if composing himself. "I told you from the beginning—"
"I know," you interrupted, eyes shining. "But I can’t help it. You’re just… everything to me."
A muscle in his jaw twitched. He didn’t respond immediately, instead taking a slow sip of his drink.
You could tell he was trying to convince himself this was still just a business deal.
---
Nanami’s tolerance for your affection wavered over time. He never encouraged it, but he also never truly rejected it.
"You’re staring again," he muttered one afternoon as you sat in his office.
You rested your chin on your hands. "Can’t help it. You’re so handsome when you’re working."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "This wasn’t part of the agreement."
"Neither was taking me to that fancy gala last week," you pointed out. "Or calling me when you were sick."
He sighed. "That was for practical reasons."
"Mmhmm," you hummed, watching as his ears turned slightly pink.
---
Nanami took you to a formal gathering—some kind of graduation ceremony for his students. You had expected to stick by his side, but the moment you arrived, you were swarmed by his colleagues.
"Oh, so this is your girlfriend, Nanami?" one of them asked, raising an eyebrow.
Nanami gave a simple nod before immediately turning to discuss something with another professor, leaving you stranded.
You smiled politely, but as the minutes ticked by, frustration bubbled beneath the surface. The entire event felt like a dull networking meeting, with Nanami barely acknowledging your presence.
When you finally managed to catch his sleeve, he merely glanced at you. "I’ll find you later. Stay here."
And just like that, he was gone again.
All alone.
---
You simply stopped answering his calls.
You weren't doing it out of spite. You simply just found another boy-toy. Your contract was fulfilled. You had no reason to continue.
So, you blocked him.
For a while, nothing happened.
And then, the messages started.
Nanami: "You’re late. We had dinner planned."
Nanami: "I assume this is some sort of joke. Answer me."
Nanami: "Are you mad at me because I left you all alone?"
Nanami: "This is unprofessional."
A week passed. Then another.
One evening, as you left your apartment, you found him waiting near your building.
"You blocked me." His tone was calm, but there was something beneath it—something tight, controlled.
You smiled. "Didn’t you say no real attachment?"
His jaw clenched. "That was before."
You tilted your head. "Before what?"
He didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know. Because somewhere along the way, he had blurred the lines himself.
And now, he realized too late—you were no longer playing the game.
---
The first time you saw his name on the GFF app, you almost thought it was a prank.
Gojo Satoru.
The strongest sorcerer in the modern era. The one people whispered about in awe and fear. What was someone like him doing on a girlfriend-for-hire app?
Curiosity got the better of you. You accepted the request.
---
Gojo wasn’t one to settle down. His entire clan knew that. But traditions weighed heavily on the Gojo name, and lately, the pressure to accept an arranged marriage had been suffocating him.
So, he came up with a plan. A fake girlfriend, someone convincing enough to make his elders believe he was already in a committed relationship.
That’s where you came in.
- REASON FOR HIRE: Arrange marriage contracts
- DURATION: Three months, or more.
- CONDITION: No attachments, I know you would probably fall in love with me. But I also need other women.
“That’s all I need. You play the role, and in return, you get the easiest paycheck of your life.”
You arched a brow. “And what exactly does ‘playing the role’ entail?”
“Attend events with me. Hold my hand. Gaze at me like I’m the only man in the world.” He replied to the call, voice dropping into something softer. “Make them believe I’m in love.”
“Anything else?”
He smirked. “Just don’t actually fall for me.”
You laughed. If only he knew.
---
The moment you walked into the café, he was already waiting for you, sunglasses perched on his nose, spinning his phone between his fingers.
Satoru: "You’re cuter than I thought."
Y/N: "You actually expected something?"
Satoru: "Touché. So, you ready to be the best fake girlfriend the Gojo clan has ever seen?"
Y/N: "Of course. But first, let’s talk boundaries."
Satoru: "Ooh, so professional. Alright, let’s hear it."
Y/N: "After the contract, you can't hire me again."
Satoru: "Boring, but fair. Anything else?"
Y/N: "I get full payment regardless of how things end. No cutting the contract short."
Satoru: "Fair, fair. And in return, you have to be convincing. The clan is annoying, but they’re not stupid."
Y/N: "Don’t worry, ‘Toru. I’ll make them believe you’re completely, hopelessly in love with me."
Satoru: "‘Toru?"
---
You didn’t expect the Gojo elders to actually like you.
You had assumed they would scoff at your presence, but instead, they welcomed you with open arms. They praised your manners, your background, your poise. You were the perfect choice.
Satoru: "You’re ruining my plan, you know."
Y/N: "How?"
Satoru: "They actually want me to marry you now. You’re supposed to be the worst."
Y/N: "Sorry, I can’t help being lovable."
Satoru: "I should’ve picked someone more scandalous."
Reader: "You love it."
And maybe, at some point, he actually did.
---
At first, you kept things professional. You played the role of a devoted girlfriend, the one Gojo’s clan would adore. You smiled at his elders, held his hand at gatherings, and laughed at his dumb jokes.
Then, you started acting obsessed. You just needed him to push you away so you can get to your next boy-toy.
You clung to him, whispered sweet nothings, sent long messages about how much you missed him. You looked at him like he was your whole world.
Satoru: "You’re really selling this, huh?"
Y/N: "Is it so wrong that I adore you, ‘Toru?"
Something flickered in his expression, but he smirked.
Satoru: "Not at all. In fact, I love it."
---
Gojo was never subtle about his flings.
He would leave you alone at events, winking at you before disappearing with a girl on his arm. He would make sure you saw the lipstick stains on his collar, the lingering perfumes that weren’t yours.
One evening, as you sat next to him at a gathering, he leaned down to whisper—
Satoru: "You’re not actually mad, are you?"
Y/N: "Why would I be?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, we’re dating."
Y/N: "No, we’re pretending to date."
That was the first time he looked annoyed.
---
Gojo assumed you would always be around, looking at him with stars in your eyes. But then, you started pulling away. Your replies became shorter. The next time he texted to bring you to an event, you declined.
Satoru: "You busy?"
Y/N: "Yeah, I have plans."
Plans with another client. Someone who paid better.
And that was when Gojo started to notice.
---
At first, he laughed.
Satoru: "You’re just playing hard to get, aren’t you? Alright, I’ll bite. You win. Now come back."
Then, he got more desperate.
Satoru: "You’re not really mad, right? C’mon, I was just having fun."
Satoru: "Tell me you still love me."
Satoru: "Don’t ignore me."
By the end of the second week, his messages were erratic. Calls that went straight to voicemail. Texts left on read. He even tried tracking you down, but you had changed your routine.
And that’s when it hit him—
You weren’t coming back.
For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru felt something he never had before. A gnawing, suffocating panic. Because you had been his, hadn’t you?
And yet, you were gone. Just like that.
But if he had anything to say about it…
You wouldn’t be gone for long.
--
The first time Y/N saw Geto Suguru’s name on the GFF app, she hesitated.
Unlike other clients, he wasn’t someone who needed a girlfriend in the traditional sense. He didn’t have a family pressuring him into an arranged marriage, nor did he need to convince colleagues he was taken.
So why did he hire her?
---
Suguru needed to maintain a certain image.
To his followers, he was their leader, their savior. But beneath that, there were whispers. Doubts. Some believed he had become too detached, too consumed by his hatred for non-sorcerers. If he wanted to maintain their faith in him, he had to show that he was still human. Capable of love.
“A girlfriend makes me seem more grounded,” he had explained over tea. “Less of a fanatic, more of a man with a vision.”
Y/N sipped her drink, meeting his gaze. “So, you want me to make you seem… normal?”
He smiled. “Something like that.”
---
They met at a quiet, traditional-style teahouse. He was polite, almost unsettlingly so, speaking in a calm, measured voice.
“You look more refined than I expected,” he noted.
“And you look less unhinged than I expected.”
Suguru chuckled. “I like you already.”
Y/N leaned forward. “So, what are the conditions?”
“Public appearances, mostly. Attend a few gatherings, meet some of my followers, make them believe I still care about trivial things like romance.”
“And in private?” she asked.
His smile didn’t waver. “No obligations, unless you want there to be.”
---
At first, their interactions were formal. He treated her with the same distant politeness he gave everyone. But after a few weeks, something shifted.
He started lingering after meetings, inviting her to private dinners. He listened intently when she spoke, his golden eyes never straying.
“You’re quite good at this,” he murmured one evening.
“Faking love?” she teased.
“No. Making me believe it’s real.”
---
You played the role perfectly. In public, you clung to him, whispered sweet nothings into his ear, looked at him as if he was your entire world.
His followers noticed. They began to believe it, murmuring among themselves about how their leader had finally found someone who could anchor him.
And Geto, against his better judgment, started to believe it too.
“Do you ever think about leaving?” he asked one night.
“Why would I?” Y/N smiled. “You’re perfect.”
His expression was unreadable. “...I see.”
---
He never saw the shift happening. Not until it was too late.
Your messages became less frequent. You stopped attending gatherings unless necessary. You no longer looked at him with that same breathless admiration.
“You’re distracted lately,” he remarked.
“I have other clients,” you replied simply.
He paused. “I see.”
For the first time, something unpleasant coiled in his chest. He had always known this was temporary. And yet—
Why did the thought of you leaving make his hands clench into fists?
---
One day, you simply stopped responding.
At first, he told himself it was fine. You had served her purpose. He no longer needed to prove himself to anyone.
But then the silence stretched on. Days turned into a week. Then two.
“Did I miscalculate?” he muttered to himself.
He reached out once. Then twice. By the third time, he realized you had blocked him.
And for the first time in years, Geto Suguru felt something dangerously close to desperation.
Because you had become a part of his image. His control.
And now, without warning, she was gone.
He exhaled slowly, eyes dark with something unreadable. “I underestimated you.”
But he knows, Y/N wouldn’t stay gone forever.
---
Come back for part 2! This is just an introduction to my new series.
ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs : You know how there's some fan fictions on tiktok without part 2/or you have to pay to read it? I got inspired on one of them LOL.
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : Leaving was never a choice, honey. Not in Rio's world. Once you enter, you can never escape.
Rio Vidal was a woman of power, elegance, and unimaginable wealth. Her influence reached into places most people didn’t even know existed, and her name carried weight that could break or build empires. She could have had anyone she wanted. But she didn’t want them. She wanted you.
You, with your sharp tongue, demanding nature, and unapologetic greed. You were spoiled, arrogant, and cruel in ways that would make others flinch. But Rio didn’t care. She adored it. She adored you.
And you knew it.
││││││││
It had been months since Rio made you hers, lavishing you with endless gifts, money, and luxury. You knew she had the resources to spoil you rotten, and you took full advantage. Your shopping sprees were legendary, your parties lavish. Every expensive handbag, every pair of designer shoes, and every glittering piece of jewelry you desired became yours with a snap of your fingers.
You loved the control, the power of having someone like Rio wrapped around your finger. If anyone dared to outshine you, you made sure they regretted it.
The waitstaff at Rio’s private events knew better than to cross you. One word of disapproval from you and their jobs were at risk. If you saw a waitress who was too pretty or caught Rio’s eye for even a second too long, you’d make a scene.
“This one?” you scoffed, gesturing to a trembling server at a recent gala. “She looks like she’s trying too hard. Tell her to fix that face before she serves me again.”
The poor girl’s face paled as she hurried away, but you smirked, reveling in your victory.
Rio’s dark eyes followed the scene, her lips curling into an amused smile. “Jealous?” she murmured, wrapping an arm possessively around your waist.
“Hardly,” you replied, flipping your hair. “But you’re mine. No one gets to even think about you without my permission.”
If only you knew the lengths Rio went to make sure that was true.
││││││││
Rio’s love for you wasn’t just adoration, it was obsession. She adored your fire, your cruelty, your unapologetic demands. She didn’t care that you treated her money like an infinite resource. To her, you deserved the world and more.
But Rio’s devotion had a darker side.
The waitress you had humiliated earlier? She was gone before the night was over. Rio had her people handle it, quietly and cleanly. The girl wasn’t just fired. Her entire life was dismantled. No job, no future, no hope. It wasn’t personal; it was necessary. Anyone who made you even the slightest bit uncomfortable was a threat, and Rio had no tolerance for threats.
She’d destroyed families over less.
││││││││
From the moment Rio took you into her world of luxury, you embraced it wholeheartedly. You were a goddess who deserved worship, and Rio was the perfect devotee.
But you weren’t just spoiled—you were clever. You knew the game you were playing, and you knew exactly how much power you held.
“Do you know how many men would beg for the chance to replace you?” you said one evening, reclining on the velvet chaise in Rio’s penthouse. “If you ever get tired of me, I could have a dozen men lined up by morning. And they’d be rich enough to match you.”
You watched her reaction carefully, sipping on the glass of wine she had poured for you.
Rio’s dark eyes glinted with something dangerous, though her smile never faltered. “Is that what you think?” she murmured, stepping closer until she towered over you. “That I’d let anyone take you away from me?”
You smirked, enjoying the way she always rose to your provocations. “What could you do to stop it?”
Her hand caressed your cheek, deceptively gentle. “You’re mine,” she said, her voice low and unwavering. “No one else will ever have you. Not while I’m alive. And if someone tries-” She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “-they won’t live long enough to regret it.”
There was no doubt in your mind that she meant every word.
││││││││
One evening, at a gala, a particularly bold tech billionaire had cornered you by the bar, his intentions clear. He leaned in close, his hand brushing against yours as he spoke. “You deserve someone who can spoil you properly.” he said, flashing a cocky smile.
You laughed, more amused than flattered. “You think you can keep up with what I already have?” you teased.
Rio, watching from across the room, didn’t react outwardly. She continued sipping her champagne, her face calm and unreadable. But her eyes never left you.
The next morning, the billionaire’s company suffered a sudden and catastrophic collapse. Investigations were launched, accusations flew, and within a week, he was a ruined man.
You didn’t have to ask Rio if she was behind it. You already knew.
And as much as you enjoyed pushing Rio’s buttons, a part of you relished the chaos she wrought in your name. Because no matter how much you teased or provoked her, one thing was certain: you were hers, and she would burn the world to keep it that way.
││││││││
It was meant to be a harmless act of rebellion. You had grown bored, restless, tired of the constant adoration and control. You wanted to see if you could truly break free from Rio’s grasp, just to prove to yourself that you could.
You packed a bag while she was out handling “business” and slipped out of the penthouse. You didn’t get far.
Before you could even leave the building, two of Rio’s security guards appeared, blocking your path.
“Where do you think you’re going, Miss?” one of them asked, his tone polite but firm.
“Out,” you snapped. “And unless you want to lose your jobs, you’ll let me pass.”
They didn’t budge.
Within minutes, Rio herself appeared. She was calm, composed, her dark eyes boring into yours as she approached.
“Leaving without saying goodbye?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with something that sent a chill down your spine.
You straightened, refusing to show fear. “I just want to go out, Rio.”
Her smile didn’t falter, but her hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Oh?” she whispered. “You think you have a choice?”
Before you could respond, she nodded to her guards. The last thing you saw was their cold expressions before everything went black.
││││││││
When you woke up, you weren’t in the penthouse anymore. The room was luxurious, of course, soft silk sheets, ornate furniture, and the faint scent of roses. But the windows were sealed, and the door was locked.
Rio sat in a chair by the bed, watching you with an unreadable expression.
“Rio,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What is this?”
“This,” she said calmly, standing and walking over to you, “is where you’ll stay until you understand.”
“Understand what?” you snapped, sitting up.
She leaned down, her face inches from yours. “That you’re mine. That you don’t leave me. Ever.”
You stared at her, a mix of disbelief and anger coursing through you. “You’re insane.”
She smiled at that, a slow, chilling smile that made your blood run cold. “Maybe. But you made me this way. You’re the one who wanted my attention, my love, my money. And now you have it. All of it.”
“Shh,” she whispered. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you. Everything you want, I’ll give you. Everything you need, I’ll provide. But don’t think for a second that you can leave me.”
It's like she can read your mind.
Her hand moved to your wrist, and that’s when you felt it. A cold, unyielding metal band. A chain connected it to the bedpost.
Your heart raced. “Rio, this is insane!”
She tilted her head, her smile soft and loving, as if you hadn’t just called her a monster. “You made me insane. And now you’ll live with it.”
"Why are you freeing me?" You asked, your voice trembling as you faced the boy who had always stayed in the shadows, watching you.
“Aren’t you just like the rest?”
“No.” he said firmly.
He smiled faintly, sadness flickering in his eyes. "I'm freeing you, because I love you."
Your breath caught got in your throat as you continued speaking. "Then why? Why not keep me like the others? Like a caged dove?"
His response came instantly. His tone steady yet soft. "Because I could never bear to see you suffer. I would rather endure the pain of losing you. Than force you to stay by my side. Love doesn’t bind, it sets you free."
Tears slipped down in his cheeks as his words reached you. You wanted to speak, but he gently held out his hand, stopping you.
"If returning to your world is what will make you happy, then I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. You were never a caged dove to me. You were always meant to fly."
──────────────────────────
In this world, everyone was obsessed with you. They were desperate to claim you, to make you theirs. You had been reincarnated into a twisted game, trapped by its cruel rules and the suffocating love of the love interests. But the boy before you, the second male lead, was different.
He helped you escape, even when he knew the cost.
The only way back to your world was through death. As he held the dagger that would take your life to break the curse.
When he cornered you, the dagger gleaming in his hand. His voice was laced with anguish. "If I do this… if I let you go..—"
He hesitated, his expression torn between rage and sorrow. But then he whispered, almost inaudibly, "—Can I love you in your first life too?"
He didn't wait for an answer, as tears fell in his cheeks as he point the dagger to you. "I’ll be waiting."
With a trembling hand, he plunged the dagger into your chest, and everything went dark.
────────────────────────────
You woke up in your old world. The weight of the game lifted. Life returned to normal, but a piece of your heart remained in that other world.
One rainy afternoon, as you stood under a bus stop. The sound of rain filling the silence, you stared at the ground, lost in thought.
Drops dripped down your hair as the rain began to seep through the cover. Suddenly, it stopped.
An umbrella shielded you.
You looked beside, your heart pounding.
There he was.
The boy who had let her go, his eyes soft but filled with unspoken longing.
“Found you.” he said, his voice gentle.
He didn't mind being the second male lead in this life too.
--
A/n : Not me basing this on my favorite manwha LMAAAAOO. I also might quit writing here altogether, and just move on qoutev. Since I am in the process of deleting my works 💔
Yandere Loyal Servant who served the Goddess of Love his entire life with unwavering devotion.
Who spent countless nights carving statues of your radiant beauty and unmatched grace.
Who taught himself the art of painting just to immortalize your divine visage on canvas.
Who pleaded tearfully with you to not join the gods in their war, fearing your safety above all else.
Whose heart shattered into irreparable pieces when the Goddess of Love perished on the battlefield.
──────────────────────────
Out of his grief and undying loyalty. He ascended as the new God of Love. Taking your place, just as you wished.
As he inherited your divine domain, he ruled with an eternal ache in his heart. Unable to fill the void your absence left.
As the God of Love, he used his newfound powers to reincarnate you. Desperate to see you once more in the mortal realm.
If he reincarnates you, he must pay a heavy price. His existence becomes tied to you. And if he dies, he will vanish completely. With no chance of reincarnation or an afterlife.
He watched you found love with a mortal. He's torn between longing and acceptance. But he is content to see you smile even if it wasn’t for him.
Though he craved to be with you. But he can't, since he used his powers to you. He knew the price. If he dies, he vanishes entirely. Without the chance to reincarnate.
Yandere God of Love who made the ultimate sacrifice. He exchanged his divine life to ensure your eternal cycle of happiness and reincarnation.
As he faded into dust. His final thoughts were you, his love unwavering to the very end.
With a bittersweet smile, the God of Love vanished. Leaving behind a legacy of devotion that would echo in every love story throughout eternity.
--
A/N : This is definitely not based on my favorite ship /j
SCANDAL IN THE PALACE: THE EMPEROR BRINGS DISGRACE WITH A CONCUBINE
The lady glanced over the scandalous news once more. Her lips curling into a wry smile. Despite the insult of her husband's betrayal, she maintained indifferent. She carried herself with dignity, as if the scandal is unworthy of her concern.
"So, you're the concubine he picked."
The empress's voice was smooth, almost sweet. As she lounged back in her seat. With deliberate ease, she pressed the heel of her jeweled slipper onto the concubine's shoulder. A mockery of affection that carried the weight of her disdain.
[Name] knelt frozen, her mind racing. How had it come to this? She had never sought the Emperor's attention, nor wished to be dragged into the chaos of court life. Yet here she was, the plaything of power, caught in a game she had no hand in starting.
The empress tilted her head, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "I suppose even a pawn can be amusing." She mused, pressing down slightly harder. [Name] remained silent, her shame swallowed by a quiet resignation. It wasn’t defiance. Only the hollow understanding that her fate had never truly been her own.
"Do you know why he took you as a concubine?" The empress drawled, her voice dripping with mockery. She leaned closer, her piercing gaze slicing through [Name]'s composure. "It wasn’t for your charm, your wit, or even your beauty. No, it was for me."
[Name]’s breath caught, her confusion plain. The empress’s lips curled into a cruel smile as she continued.
"He chose you because I instructed him to. A quiet girl from an unremarkable family. I have no taste for men. Their arrogance, their fumbling desires. I find it all... distasteful. Women, though," She said, her fingers lightly brushing [Name]’s cheek. "Women are art. And you, my dear, are here because I wanted you."
[Name]’s mind reeled. She hadn’t chosen this life, hadn’t asked for any of it. Now she realized she wasn’t even the Emperor’s plaything. She was the empress’s pawn.
The empress reached out, tracing a cold finger along [Name]’s jaw. "How does it feel, knowing your purpose was never yours to decide?" She whispered, her tone held cruelty and amusement. [Name] lowered her eyes, swallowing her bitterness. What could she say? This, too, was out of her hands.
"Prove your worth," the empress commanded, her voice low and smooth. Yet laced with a threat. She turned on her heel, not waiting for an answer. "To my bedchamber."
[Name] followed in silence, her footsteps heavy with resignation. The gilded doors closed behind them, sealing her fate yet again.
Later, the empress stepped out into the cool night. The air fragrant with blooming jasmine. She walked slowly through the palace gardens, her demeanor serene. Yet her mind sharp with satisfaction. The night was hers, her control absolute.
Meanwhile, [Name] lay on the silken sheets. Staring blankly at the ornate ceiling. Her thoughts spiraled into absurdity as she tried to make sense of her life.
She was the protagonist of a game. The female lead, ensnared in a world where everyone’s desires revolved around her. Pulling her into their obsessions.
She stared at her reflection in the polished bronze mirror. Searching for the girl she used to be. Instead, she saw the character they had cast her as. An object of obsession in a game she never chose to play.
[Name]’s mind wandered through the faces of those who seemed hopelessly drawn to her. Their obsessions suffocating and relentless. Each one brought with them a peculiar brand of madness that tightened the web around her.
The Emperor
Beneath his regal demeanor was a possessive man who saw [Name] as the perfect jewel in his collection. His love was stifling, expressed through gilded cages and lavish displays. He watched her every move, ordering his spies to report on her daily activities. If she so much as smiled at another man, that person would vanish. His existence erased by the Emperor’s silent wrath.
The Empress
Her obsession was colder, sharper, like the edge of a blade. The empress viewed [Name] as her personal possession. A treasure she refused to share. She would isolate her, ensuring no one else could bask in her light. The empress's punishments were subtle but devastating: restricting [Name]’s movements, destroying her friendships, and whispering poison into her ears to make her doubt herself.
The Knight
The palace knight. Stoic and loyal, was consumed by a feral devotion. He would cut down anyone he perceived as a threat, his blade swift and merciless. His obsession bordered on worship, and he viewed himself as her eternal protector. Yet his protection came at a cost, her freedom. He would lock her away if it meant keeping her safe, even if she begged for release.
The Wizard
The court wizard was a man of intellect. But his love for [Name] turned his brilliance into something terrifying. He would weave enchantments to bind her to him. Spells that made her dreams twist with his image. His obsession was suffocating. His love an experiment. If she resisted, he would create illusions to isolate her from reality, ensuring she saw no one but him.
The Maid
The sweet, doting maid hid a darkness behind her kind smile. She adored [Name] with a devotion that bordered on madness. She sabotaged any attempt [Name] made to grow close to others. Spilling secrets and spreading rumors. Her yandere tendencies were quiet but insidious: poisoned tea for rivals, missing letters, and stolen moments where she would cling to [Name] as if her life depended on it.
Each of them was a piece of a puzzle [Name] had never asked to solve. Their affections weren’t love. They were chains, binding her tighter with every gesture, every whispered promise, and every desperate act. She was the center of their twisted universe, and there was no escape.
