They say you are what you consume. If that's true, then I was a connoisseur of the finest digital delicacies known to man—smut novels featuring mature, elegant, experienced women. MILFs, to be precise.
I had standards. I had taste. I had a carefully curated reading list that would make lesser men weep with envy. My browser history was a work of art, my bookmarks organized by trope and heat level. I could debate the merits of different authors for hours. I was, in every sense of the word, a man of culture.
What I didn't have, apparently, was common sense.
It was 2 AM on a Tuesday when I made the most fatal mistake of my life. I had already finished my latest read—a masterpiece involving a divorced CEO and her young secretary, and was scrolling through my usual sites looking for new releases. My eyes were getting heavy, my judgment impaired by sleep deprivation and the post-reading high.
That's when I saw it.
"Roses and Thorns: A Love Forbidden" glared at me from my screen with its pretty-boy cover art. Two beautiful men in an intimate embrace, all flowing hair and intense gazes. The tags clearly marked it as BL.
I should've clicked away. Any true man of culture would have. BL was forbidden territory, a genre that existed in a parallel universe to my own refined tastes.
But the reviews... the reviews were glowing. Five stars across the board. Comments praising it as "the best romance ever written" and "a masterpiece of tension and character development."
My eye twitched. How could a BL novel possibly be considered a masterpiece?
Curiosity turned to indignation. Indignation turned to determination.
I would read this trash, I decided. I would read it and then write a proper review explaining exactly why it didn't deserve such high praise. Someone had to maintain standards in this lawless internet wasteland.
So I hate-read it. All 347 chapters.
I hate-read through the protagonist Ren Wylde's introduction as a scholarship student at the prestigious Astoria Academy. I hate-read through his meet-cute with the cold, possessive Duke Caelan Vordane. I hate-read through the appearance of the obsessive Crown Prince Alexis Rainhardt and the subsequent love triangle that wasn't really a triangle because obviously they would end up in a throuple.
I hate-read through political intrigue, magical tournaments, and enough sexual tension to power a small city. I hate-read through dramatic misunderstandings, jealous confrontations, and reconciliations that somehow made my traitorous heart clench.
And then, at chapter 347, right in the middle of a crucial arc where the male leads were finally confessing their feelings... it ended and was abandoned, dropped without warning or explanation.
I sat there at 4 AM, staring at my screen in disbelief, feeling genuinely betrayed.
Then I spent the next hour writing a 3,000-word essay explaining exactly why the novel was problematic trash that I definitely hadn't enjoyed, how the author was a hack for abandoning it, and how I could've written it better myself. I posted it with smug satisfaction, turned off my computer, and went to sleep.
That was my first mistake.
My second mistake was waking up.
---
The sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains was my first clue that something was wrong. The fact that I was staring at an ornate ceiling decorated with painted clouds and cherubs was my second. The realization that I was in a body that felt simultaneously familiar and completely alien was my third.
I shot up in bed—a massive four-poster affair that belonged in a palace, not a college dorm—and immediately regretted it as my head spun. My hands looked wrong and too pale, too refined, with long fingers that had clearly never done manual labor.
Stumbling out of bed, I caught sight of a full-length mirror and froze.
The face staring back at me was handsome in a sharp, aristocratic way. Dark hair that fell artfully across my forehead. Piercing grey eyes. A jawline that could cut glass. I was tall—easily six feet—with a lean, athletic build.
I looked like a manhwa character.
"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."
My eyes darted around the room, landing on a desk where a student ID lay innocently among scattered papers. I grabbed it with shaking hands.
[Darius Asterian]
[Year: 2]
[House: Asterian]
[Astoria Academy]
The realization hit me like a truck—the same kind that usually isekai's people in these situations, though apparently I'd skipped that step and gone straight to divine punishment.
I was inside "Roses and Thorns: A Love Forbidden."
Specifically, I was Darius Asterian, a minor extra who appears in chapters 15-23 as a brief love interest for the protagonist, Ren Wylde, before vanishing from the story completely. My role was simple: show interest in Ren at a cafeteria meeting, attempt to pursue him for a few chapters, get gently rejected because Ren only has eyes for his male leads, then move on and disappear into the background of academy life.
I was so minor that I didn't even get a proper character arc. Just a footnote in Ren's journey to finding true love with his possessive duke and obsessive prince.
I spent the next three days in a daze, attending classes on autopilot while my mind raced. The academy was exactly as described in the novel—a sprawling campus of Gothic architecture mixed with modern facilities, where the children of nobles and talented commoners studied magic, politics, and combat together.
I recognized background characters from the novel. I spotted the duke's younger sister in my Advanced Magic Theory class. I carefully avoided anywhere the male leads might be.
My plan was simple: lay low, avoid the protagonist at all costs, and definitely stay away from Duke Caelan and Prince Alexis. Let them have their toxic, possessive, borderline-yandere romance while I kept my head down. Maybe I would find some beautiful older women in town—surely there were some eligible noblewomen or wealthy merchants who'd appreciate a younger man's attention.
I could survive this. I just needed to not interact with any main characters.
That plan lasted exactly three days.
---
The academy cafeteria was massive—a cavernous hall with vaulted ceilings and long tables that could seat hundreds. Crystal chandeliers floated overhead (because of course they did; everything in this place was unnecessarily magical and dramatic). The air smelled of fresh bread and roasted meat, and the noise of chattering students echoed off the stone walls.
I grabbed my tray, loaded it with food I barely looked at, and scanned for a quiet corner. Preferably one far from any main characters. Maybe near that group of normal-looking students who were definitely not involved in world-changing romance plots.
"Darius!"
I froze mid-step and my blood ran cold. That voice—melodious, warm, with just a hint of breathiness that made people want to lean closer—was unmistakable.
No. Not yet. I wasn't supposed to meet him until next week according to the timeline!
I turned slowly, praying I was wrong.
I wasn't.
Ren Wylde appeared before me like a shoujo manga panel come to life. Silver hair that seemed to shimmer in the chandelier light, falling perfectly around his face. Violet eyes that sparkled with genuine warmth. Features so delicate and beautiful they seemed almost unreal. He was wearing the standard academy uniform, but somehow he made it look like haute couture.
He was beautiful in that frustrating, protagonist way that made you understand exactly why everyone in the novel fell for him despite his manipulative tendencies.
But I had read this story. I'd seen through his innocent act. I knew he was the type to play helpless while orchestrating situations to his advantage, to smile sweetly while wrapping people around his finger.
"Hey look, you're not exactly..." I said, staring at Ren with barely hidden disgust. I really hated these types of people—the ones who played innocent while manipulating everyone around them for their own benefit.
"Not what? I'm not your type?" Ren said, his handsome face looking a bit sad, those ridiculous violet eyes going wide. The expression made me cringe and furrow my brows. Was he seriously trying the puppy-dog look on me?
"Yes, that." I suddenly agreed, forcing a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. I would take whatever chance I had to escape this moment. "You're really not my type. At all. So if you'll excuse me—"
Ren stared for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, deliberately, he licked his lips.
"I can be whatever you want, Daddy~"
Time stopped.
I stared at Ren dumbfoundedly as I took a step back, nearly dropping my tray.
WHAT THE HELL?!
This wasn't in the novel! This scene was supposed to go completely differently! Darius was supposed to shyly confess his interest, Ren was supposed to gently let him down, and that was it! A simple, forgettable interaction that led nowhere!
There was no— He didn't— Did he just call me—
"I'm sorry, WHAT?"