A Glimpse of Fantasy (Yandere x reader)

Orv: Kim Dokja, Yoo Junghyuk. Under the illuminated moonlight, *******， Laid bare was my love for you. ***********。 Bloodied splats dripped on this cruel, picturesque snowy ground. The said maiden is beyond beautiful. One so stunning that she would resemble the Goddess of Beauty and Grace, Aphrodite. (Y/N), a maiden who possesses powers akin to a warrior and should be worshiped instead of being trampled on. She wasn't supposed to be this miserable. Yet, for a man, she did. She took it all. Being trampled on the ground as if she weren't worth anything at all. How pitiful. How miserable. How amusing. How. Utterly. Laughable. During Master Junghyuk's first regression, I lost both my eyes. I had both my eyes poked out in order to save him. The sensation was a burning pain. It was pure agony. I hadn't minded it since Master was alive. During Master Junghyuk's second regression, I lost my limbs. As I was slowly bleeding to my death, I watched as Master barely spared me a glance. Ah, because I was too useless? Perhaps if I'd been of better help, I could've helped him. During Master Junghyuk's third regression, I was tortured by those monsters and disgusting beings of this accursed world. Yet, this death might be the worst among all the others. I was forced to watch on as Master kissed another woman before me. During the fourth regression, I... During the fifth regression, I..... How many times has it already? How many times should I go on? How many more times? How many times should I serve that damnable master of mine? That master who'd use me, tread upon me, discard me when he found me of no use. Was it really worth it? Perhaps- Perhaps. Perhaps... -------------Scenario xxx has started----------- Chaos. The world had already descended into chaos. From the very first scenario, the world was already broken to no repair. So what was he holding on to? The blind regressor was holding onto the broken world. Yu Junghyuk. The supposed male lead of this story. The only man in this world who could regress. The only human in this world who could restart this world like clockwork. He found me every time, every time when he restarted this God-begotten world. I was sick of it all. It was always the same scenario. The same touching scene where the male lead finds a wounded soul on the ground, portraying a hero that he never was. It was horribly sickening. It was cold, so cold that I could barely withstand it. It was unbearably so. The first scenario had just ended. It was unforgiving. It was cruel. It was belittling, as if the constellations were looking down on us humans, snickering and mocking our fate. And the fact that we were unable to fight back. Footsteps. Familiar ones. The crunching of snow beneath someone's feet. Sneering softly to myself, I braced myself for the cold and indifferent voice of him, the very nightmare of my dreams. "(Y/N)." It was different. It was so very different. The voice that I was anticipating. The voice that haunted me till the end of the world. The voice that I was oh so familiar with. The supposedly deep and magnetic voice of a man was replaced with a soothing, questioning one. Am I hallucinating? Possibly. Or perhaps I've sacrificed too much for him that I've become delusional. Delusional for his affection. Delusional for his warmth. Delusional for his love. Delusional for his doting. Hesitantly, I looked up. My irises met with soft, delicate, and tender ones. With only one look at him, I was mesmerized. I was held captive by those black hues. A man whom I'd never met before was kneeling down before me, reaching a hand out. He looked concerned, worried even. Who is he? "Hey there, are you okay?" His voice, oh so sweet and tender, brought tears to my eyes. The pricking sensation of tears. I felt it all. It was different from the tears of agony, the tears of sadness, the tears of pain, the tears of sheer hopelessness. This felt different. Yet, I couldn't let my guard down. I can't. Perhaps he was the same as Master? He would use me, discard me, kill me, leave me alone to die once he found me of no use. "Who are you?" Finally having the courage to reply to the gentle male in front of me, I mustered out a reply. It came out colder than I expected. One could easily hear the bone-chilling tone beneath my words. Perhaps due to the innumerable times that I've got wounded. Again and again. Again and again. Like a painfully agonized cycle of anticipation, love, disappointment, and regret. The damnable cycle that I can never break. A short pause. And a shift, he was slowly backing away. Right before I thought that he was going to leave, he answered. "I'm Dokja. Kim Dokja." Dokja. With his white overcoat draped over his shoulders, one could mistake him as an angel. One very attractive at that. A peculiar name at that. To have a name like such, Kim Dokja. A reader. That was our first meeting. ♡♡♡ I don't believe in salvation. I don't believe in fate. Nor do I believe in the concept of a God or a savior. Why? So why do I feel that way? Why was he so gentle? Why can't I hate him? Why did I agree to follow him? It was as if I'm a moth obsessing over candlelight. It was as if I was a possessed soul in need of saving. It was as if I was a survivor in a desert, searching for an oasis. Am I not wounded enough? Is that it? Do I need to go through the pain of being trampled on, being belittled, being used, and discarded again? And... being forced to watch my admired lover kissed another woman in front of me. Am I afraid? Of course, I am! Kim Dokja was nothing but kind to me. During the scenarios, he constantly fusses over me. He was beyond gentle,beyond loving, beyond kind. His voice was akin to a soothing lullaby. One that could easily draw me to sleep. He takes care of his companions so well that I'm jealous of the ones that went along with him before me. When I was at my lowest, he held his hand out to me. Both of them did. Yet, the differences made were clear as day. Yu Junghyuk, rather, Master held his hand out to me. Indeed, he could be known as my savior. Yet, that master of mine that I served never once took a glance my way after knowing that I was worthless to him. So what if he was the first one that reached his hand out? In the end, it only spiraled me down the unimaginable hellhole. It only fueled my sufferance and pain. Be it pain or agony, he never once glanced my way when I called out to him. Kim Dokja. Words can not describe how much I felt for him. Those brazen and well-calculated moves of his. Those eyes weren't afraid of death. Those eyes gleamed with both determination and warmth. He is a variable. A variable in this God-forsaken world. Little by little, I melted under his gentleness and tenderness. "Dokja." His name rolled out of my tongue nonchalantly. Perhaps due to the world wanting to mold me into a villain, I've forgotten that this world was unforgiving. How foolish I was. So much so that I felt so safe under Dokja's wings that I've forgotten how much suffering I'd gone through. Once again, I've been reminded. Of the cruelty of this world. ♡♡♡ ------------Commencing scenario-------------- -------------Preparation ongoing------------ 91% 92% 93% 94% Pain surged through me as I gasped aloud. Goddammit. I should've known better than to cling on to hope. The false hope that I held onto. The false sense of hope that I refused to let go of. It all crumbled down when my eyes met his. Those familiar yet unfamiliar eyes of my so-called master that I've pledged my life to. I couldn't blame Dokja for running into him. It would happen soon enough. Since is the male lead of this story, after all. His eyes were cold. It reminded me of the snow that was about to bury me alive. The hatred. The loathe. The anger. The pain. The suffering. It all came crashing down upon me as I gasped aloud in excruciating pain, commencing my preparations. For the creation that I was soon to be molded into, a catastrophe. 95% What could I blame? My weak resolve, perhaps? 96% Perhaps it was doomed to be. I was never supposed to be a normal civilian. I was never allowed to be one. 97% With my mind corrupted, it was before long that I'd turn into a catastrophe. Something that others call a horrendous monster, a cursed being. But most would name it as a disastrous creature. 98% "(Y/N)--" "(Y/---!!" "(Y/N)!!!!" The numbers halted. My vision was hazy as I tried blinking multiple times to focus on the voice calling out to me. Who was it? What was it? Who am I? What am I? Those were the questions that flooded into my mind. This has happened oh so many times. I tried, each time, to hold onto the fond memories of Junghyuk. Every time, every moment spent, I didn't want to forget the details of him, not even a single shred. So I called. I reached my hands out desperately to my Master whom I loved and served, hoping that he'd take me out of this hell. ...He never did. ...Not once. ... Not ever. But do I DARE dream? Just to have them broken into millions of pieces. Do I? .... I've never witnessed salvation. I've never known the beauty of poems. I was the type to scoff at words of love and songs of affection. Yet, those black hues of his. Just a glimpse of them, I merely needed a glimpse of them. Deep in my eyes reflects him, my soul cries out. Desperately, I reached my hands out. This time, it wasn't to ask him to save me. Rather, it was a cry for a chance. A beg and a plea for an opportunity, an opportunity to see light. A chance to see salvation. "Dokja." Amidst the hazy and blurred memories, I recalled only the name. The name that I've always wanted to call. The name that I've always wanted to cry aloud. Be it happy or sad. The name that I never wanted to forget. "Dokja!" "DOKJA!" A reader? If he's one, then all I ask for is for him to be the reader of my stories. Pathetic? I suppose. A catastrophe who never wanted it. A role that was forced upon me. Perhaps all I wanted was a person to see me as I am. All I wanted was a person who could read and understand my sufferance and pain. Perhaps all I had been searching for all my life wasn't the love of my previous Master. Rather, it was the acknowledgment. I was searching blindly, desperately, for someone to see my agonies. Someone who's able to sympathize with me. The sense of security and warmth enveloped me at once. The familiar feeling of him. This mundane feeling of his. It felt safe. If I had merely an ounce of self-consciousness left, I wouldn't turn into a catastrophe. A taste of redemption. A taste of the beauty of salvation. A taste of the forbidden fruit. ♡♡♡ There was once a woman who gave it all to a man. There was once a woman so foolish that she would fall for empty promises of a man again and again. The promise that he gave her. The same empty promise that Junghyuk gave her. He'd tell her that he'd be back for her. But where was he when she needed him? Where was he when she breathed out her last gasp of breath? Yet, was there a possibility that all of these were planned beforehand? The beautiful catastrophe. She had been there with him since the very day he started reading this book, titled Three Ways to Survive The Apocalypse. Though she did not know, Kim Dokja's life was rather similar to hers, having an abusive father and getting bullied in school. Both of them were in need of salvation. What she did not know was that she was his safe haven from the very start. Both their misery aligned to the extent that it triggered Dokja's desire to take her under his wing and protect her. The novel that followed him throughout the days of his life became his only source of salvation. Unknowingly, both of them were each other's beacon of light. Indeed, initially, it was out of protectiveness, and the sense of unfair and justice made Dokja take care of her. It slowly and gradually twisted into something else when they spent more days together. Imagine Dokja's pain when he saw her gazing off into a distance, her eyes distant as she let out a soft yet saddened sigh. One could easily guess as to what she was thinking of. It wasn't as if Dokja didn't know just how devoted she was to Junghyuk. However, it doesn't mean that it hurts less. So, it spiraled gradually and consistently. Slowly spiraling down to obsessiveness and over-protectiveness. And lastly. Pure hatred. Despair. Desperation. To have her, he'd do anything and everything in his power. If he had to break his beloved angel's wings in order for her not to fly off, he would. He would snap her wings off if he could. That was why he never once introduced her to his newfound companions. He preferred her to be all alone. For her to be blind over her previous grievance and sufferance, he could have her in the palm of his hands. Dokja had made sure that she was always alone with him being the only exception. Whenever he noticed her sobbing in silence, he'd wrap her up in a soothing embrace. Every step, every action. It was all meticulously calculated. To have her entranced, to have her ensnared in his readied trap. One step at a time, he could have her in a choke-hold. Rather, he was waiting for this moment. For this moment when she could shout his name out in the time of despair. That's when Dokja knew that his trap worked perfectly well. To play the perfect hunter, one must demonstrate patience. To play the cunning fox, one must be able to depict himself as a harmless sheep. That was what Dokja did, luring (Y/N) in, beckoning her to him, taking advantage of her pained past, and using comfort as a curse in disguise. There wasn't even the need to question Dokja's intentions. He was there when I was at my lowest. He was there, waiting for me like always. Arms open, as he asked in his usual gentle demeanor. "How are you feeling?" Deja vu. It brought back fond memories of the days I was found on the day when he found me in the snowstorm. And this time round, there was no hesitance. Both our arms weaved around each other. Under the illuminated moonlight, no one spoke. Our breathing entwined as we shared a tender moment. A melodious chorus of soft tweeting and chirping of birds in the otherwise silent night. ♡♡♡ Now, this didn't go unseen by two bright golden hues. The Eye of The Sage, to be exact. A legendary attribute. The eyes that perceive everything in sight. Unblinking, coldly, staring at them. The maiden, in particular. Her eyes were soft and sweet. It was nothing like what he had witnessed when she was with him during his past regressions. Her emotions were always kept in check. Even when he abandoned and discarded her, she never once complained. That made her the perfect vessel for his so-called divine duty. To save this world from condemnation. In return, the price was to sacrifice her. An empty vessel. It was all for convenience, isn't it? Human emotions weren't allowed in this world that was nearing destruction. So be it. She could restart it all over, again and again, couldn't she? Just like he thought, he could restart her love for him like clockwork. Be calm. Stay calm, Yu Junghyuk. This is nothing but a mere sidetrack. She would return to his arms like a trained bunny. It was always like this. Every time, during every regression, isn't it? She would return to him, ready for him to use and discard. And every time she questioned him, he'd have a "valid" reason ready for her. On a whimsical journey where deceiving words were well-used, she would fall right back into his arms once more when she met him. But was it really possible? Ha, imagine his astonishment when she passed him by without looking at him. Hell, a disgusted sneer was tugging at her lips. Her gaze was cold, indifferent even. She spared him no glance when they passed by each other. He was too arrogant. Too proud to take the blame. He would shift the blame to someone else, a complete variable, the man that (Y/N) was so infatuated with. ...Dokja Kim. Of course, it'd be him! Who else would there be? The variable of this story. The tedious and meticulous man who gets on his nerves every damn time. Thus, behind the poor maiden's back, there was a storm brewing. Both men faced each other. One was utterly enraged while the other wore a completely serene smile on his lips. A mock, Junghyuk noticed. A taunt that dared provoked him, the original male lead of the story. Even before Yu Junghyuk spoke, Dokja had foreseen his next words. "Return her to me." How infuriated Dokja was to hear that. How bemused Dokja was! The audacity of this man to think of his beloved maiden as a property to be possessed. And-- oh boy, how much he wanted to strangle this man before him who was both the nightmare of his beloved's dreams and his very own love rival. "No." Came his reply. It was calm. Akin to a soft breeze, amidst the raging seas. "She's not yours. And she'll never be." The reader's voice was filled with mirth. Like a cunning little fox approaching a provoked wolf, a serene simper had never left Dokja's lips. God be damned if he was ever going to hand her over. "I supposed I'll have you know that that was a demand and not a request. " The emotionless voice continued. "And you can have one of my mythical attributes in return." "All of them benefit you, Dokja. So consider your choice carefully." Indeed, it was. To have a mythical attribute without risking one's life is supposedly a miracle. Not to mention, Dokja could have them just by handing Junghyuk a woman. "In fact, having her around would only add to your burdens. She's a catastrophe. The Dokkaebis will be after your neck once they've heard that you've destroyed a scenario by taming the catastrophe. " "So, Dokja." "Hand. Her. Over." This is definitely something to gloat over. For a calculated man like Dokja, even he couldn't calculate such an offer. He couldn't comprehend just why Junghyuk would make such an offer. Such is not the habit of Junghyuk. Isn't (Y/N) a mere vessel? A vessel that could be replaced anytime? Was she always worth that much to Junghyuk? "I'll need some time to think it over." Was Dokja's response. ..... A sigh. A heavy sigh. Indeed, why was he so disoriented? Why was Junghyuk so disorganized? Even he himself did not know. Rather, he did not want to know. To offer someone a mythical attribute in return for some woman. And that woman wasn't even his lover. If he was to sacrifice such power in return for Anna Croft, it might seem much more understandable. So why her?Perhaps he was used to her soft and caring nature. Perhaps he was used to her quiet and demure manner. Perhaps he was used to her self-sacrificing manner. His pride wouldn't allow it. His arrogance would never allow such thoughts. Such thoughts are akin to how much he was influenced by her. Such thoughts as to how much he had indeed fallen for her. Such is the case at the moment when she died in the most recent regression. He had knelt down before her and shed tears. In his most recent regression, he had quite a bit of progression. He might be able to find some clues to save this dying world. He should've gone on with this world and not reset it from the very start. But, one look at her. Just one. He needed only one. Her dying body, her bloodied corpse, the shallow breathing, and pleading for him to finish her off. To end her suffering. Junghyuk raised his sword, just for him to place it back down. Ending her? With his own hands? He couldn't do so. No matter how hard he tried. He had fallen for her. He had fallen deeply in love. Through their shared journeys, he was infatuated. So much so that he had developed a strong feeling. Though he'll never admit it. In (Y/N)'s eyes, in her dying moments, she perceived it as cruel. He wouldn't even do her a favor by ending her suffering. Her breathing shallowed as she gasped for breath. She had used the last of her strength to beg him. For him to finish her off. "Yu Junghyuk ..." Her voice lowered to no more than a faltered whisper. Her trusted savior. Her messiah. Her...secret lover that she had admired silently from afar, betrayed her, yet again. How long will she have to endure this? How much longer? From that day he swore again and again, that he wouldn't do this ever again. "For how long...should I...endure such treatment?" She watched on as he strode away from her. His back turned. He wouldn't even look at her. Not even at her dying moments. It was surprisingly chilly. Only the sounds of her rasped breathing and the thundering of her heart were heard. What did I just witness? A betrayal? A scandal? A foolish yet laughable display of the legendary "male lead" of this story sacrificing a pawn to save this world? She had to even avert her eyes from such an obscene sight. That was what she saw. In her eyes, he was a merciless beast. That was what reality showed her. A harsh slap to her face. Again and again. In agony, she writhed. In reality, she drowned. In suffocation, she found the truth. To him, it was the turning point. Junghyuk had placed everything he had until now and restarted the story. He was certain that the maiden would choose him. Of course, she would, he thinks. He will and would always be the only one who reached out a hand to her. She never did. She had lost all hope. He saw it clearly in her eyes. Cold and indifferent. Junghyuk needed her. He needed to show her. That he was capable of showing warmth. That he was capable of loving. That this wasn't an unrequited love.If there was something that kept him in between the borderlines of sanity and insanity, it was her. It was her who did just that. Her smile, her charm, her elegance and grace, she saved him from himself. How amusing. She wanted to leave? His one and only salvation? His angel was about to leave. He would do anything and everything to prevent that. Even if that meant clipping down her wings and forcing her to her knees, he would. Violence was always in his blood. It was merely kept hidden behind the lovely facade of a stoic and attractive male lead. It was always lurking behind that mask of his. ♡♡♡ Dokja pondered on this deal. Rather, a mythical attribute in the earlier scenario couldn't be better. But, will he hand her over? Never. It needs to be something of trickery. Something that could get both what he wanted and to keep (Y/N) to himself. So, he went to her bedchamber ,where she resided. "(Y/N), darling." His voice, soft as the silken cloth against the drizzle of the rain, sounded so fleeting. So chaste. So gentle. So, so beautiful. He leaned down. His lips gently touched her forehead as he watched her wake up. She was pleasantly surprised to see him there. Her arms wrapped about him, and pulled him closer. He was a consummate gentleman and will remain as one. "Can I?" She nodded. It was a language that could never be spoken. A language of heart. A language that can only be understood by one another. A language that can only be understood by bodily contact and affection. Dokja stripped her, not only of her clothes, her virginity and her pride. To him and for him, she would give it all. Their bodies entwined as he held her. Their bodies weave together in perfect sync. She wanted him. Desperately. With wanton desires. It wasn't entirely out of passion. Rather, it stemmed mostly out of compassion. Both of them, drowning helplessly in the sea of love. Only physical touch and warmth could quench them of this neediness. The need to understand each other in the deepest desire. Love. Is it a drug? Is it a poison? The answer is at the very end. It was a weakness. One that could spiral princes of a fairy-tale into a villain. Yet, why do people fall for this? The feeling of divinity. The feeling of euphoria. Like a drug, it drugs you into a euphoric state. It deceives you into a certain state of mind, leaving you wanting for more. The greediness that left you thristing for more. Not even water to quench your thirst. Dokja held the unconscious maiden in his arms as he headed over to a stoic man standing nearby. Was it too late for regrets? The heated session left him wanting more. Like the continuation of a snowball rolling, it had turned into something that could never be reversed. His arms were wrapped protectively around the maiden when Junghyuk reached out to grab her. Junghyuk's eyes never left the sleeping maiden, his eyes gleamed dangerously when he saw how Dokja reacted. "Whoa there, Junghyuk. Calm yourself." The nonchalant voice of Dokja served to only fuel Junghyuk's anger. "I never said anything about not handing her over to you. I merely wanted to propose something before handing her over." "Do I look like some joke to you?"Came a cold response. It was clear as day that he had no interest in anything else other than the woman in Dokja's arms. "Why not share her, Junghyuk?" An interrupt. A cold glint in Junghyuk's eyes. If looks could kill, this would be the epitome of such words. "And in return, you can choose to give me any attribute of your choice." "Are you certain that you could save this world and protect her at the same time? See now, Junghyuk. Have you forgotten how you've treated her in your past regressions? Do you want to reenact those scenes? Those scenes that haunted you. Those times that you've failed again and again to protect her. Do you wish to restart such painful moments again?" A low growl. One could easily tell that Junghyuk was beyond fuming. That was the naked truth. The truth is that he was always running away. The truth that he chose not to perceive. With gritted teeth, he reluctantly agreed. And there we have it. A shared deal between a fallen angel and a devil in disguise. ♡♡♡ A story needs a protagonist and an antagonist. Be it deceiving or manipulation, the Gods or the Creator of a story must create the perfect one. But the question remains-- Will there ever be a "perfect" protagonist? Will there ever be a "perfect" antagonist? No, there was never one. Perhaps, for the civilians of this world, Junghyuk was the protagonist of this story. But to the people that he used and discarded, he was the antagonist. Similarly, perhaps to the companions of Dokja, Dokja was the protagonist of this story. But to the constellations? He was the one disrupting the story. The one that could be known as the antagonist. Yes. Like the principle behind the Yin and Yang. Evil comes with good and good comes with evil. Ironic, isn't it? When all humans try their best to separate between these two contradictory things. To achieve a perfect ending, a sacrificial lamb must be placed on the altar. To achieve a perfect ending, a story must be fixed. "Divine, isn't it? This poison called love?"