#i feel like everyone knows that kim dokja is suicidal. and the only thing that kept kim dokja alive was WOS.

[bidokja]

every time i see a post saying that kim dokja exists only in the "third" round because he dies on the subway in all the other rounds i want to scream. he doesn't die on the subway. SP cannot find him there because in every other timeline kim dokja does not make it to the subway at all.

[rusquared]

@everyones-least-favorite-bard @tls12lessthan3 sweet beautiful vindication. thank u internet friends🫶

rough idea under the cut, moreso snippets of what could've been a full fic, TWs for: implied character death, suicidal ideation. ORV epilogue spoilers!

The day the world doesn't end, the steady beep of a heart monitor fills the silence in a corner of the hospital. Han Sooyoung stands next to the bed, hands clenched until her fingernails dig into her skin. She isn't sure what she expected, coming to the past of a whole other world and all. It certainly wasn't Kim Dokja in a hospital bed, though.

The dokkaebi king, not entirely tactless, clears his throat. "Would you like to... wake him?"

She stares at where the IV drip meets a rare patch of skin not wrapped in gauze or colored in bruises. She counts to ten, then counts down, then counts up to ten again. The name on the chart sure is correct, as are the features on that battered face. Younger, softer. But undeniably him.

"Fuck." She mutters.

"Fuck," she repeats, a bit louder, looking at the empty chairs next to the young boy. She'd rather scream, but that risks getting kicked out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This wasn't- it couldn't- was that why? Was that it?

She had only wanted to see him again. Maybe get some answers about his past, why he ended up making the choices that he did. If he found some peace on that endless train. If there was nothing any of them could have done.

Nothing she could have done.

Nothing she could do, right now.

She could- She could, since no one had published it yet. She could, for him. Right? For him. 1863 regressions. Right.

No wonder that damned dokkaebi had been looking at her weirdly, and let her come along on this ridiculous trip. Even now, she knows if she turns around that thing will be looking at her in disgusting reverence.

An author's livelihood has always been writing, it comes to them like breathing in a poisoned room. It wouldn't take much. It would take everything. 1863 lives, countless more, innocents and strangers who had no part in any of this. She would have it on her hands.

Maybe it won't happen, even if I write it. Maybe-

Sooyoung chuckled. How could she, a writer and constellation, try to fool herself? But... that small figure on the bed, almost swallowed by the bleached sheets embracing him. The way his hair is shorter here, with jagged edges as if cut by hand. The school uniform they hadn't changed him out of. She. God. She had to.

She-

Could there be another way?

[Stigma, 'Predictive Plagiarism', is-]

She turns off the ability.

Gently grabbing one of the boy's hands, Sooyoung allows herself to be selfish. She will not give the dokkaebi what he wants. She will not give the world its apocalypse, nor will she let it take this life away.

The story he needed to save him - did it have to be a story? Couldn't it be a person?

****

"Oh, are you awake?"

When Kim Dokja slowly opens his eyes, he squints at the harsh artificial lights and thinks, Ah. So he's back. He turns his head towards the young nurse's voice only to find a kid his age standing next to him.

She looks down at him, hands in her hoodie's pockets. There's a lollipop stick in the corner of her mouth.

She clears her throat.

"Hi."

Dokja wonders if she's another patient, or if she has some sick fascination with nearly-dead people.

"I'm, uh, Sooyoung. What's your name?"

Definitely sick. In the head, perhaps.

He must look as bewhildered as he feels, because she rubs her neck sheepishly.

"I'm here to visit some family, but there's no one my age around. I thought I might be able to talk to you."

Dokja swallows the urge to say Me? Are you kidding?. His voice is hoarse. "I'm... Dokja."

"Cool." Cool?? She coughs.

"Nice to meet you. Can I... come around next time? My relative's gonna be here for a while, and I get bored easily. I usually come at night, but since you're on bedrest most of the day you should be able to wake up, no?" Looking anywhere but at his face, Sooyoung cuts off her rambling and, with an awkward wave, scurries off.

Dokja has had enough to think about already that he doesn't bother adding more to his plate. Besides, his body is screaming in exhaustion and pain. He sinks back into his pillow and allows the weariness to wash over him.

****

It's not a sophisticated plan, but considering she's in the body of a 14 year old, it's as good as it could get. It might just work, too. She knows exactly what buttons to push with that guy, and she's capable of turning on the charm whenever needed to impress people.

And if the dokkaebi king has stopped visiting her bedroom, and stares at her silently during the rare times that he does show up - well, that's none of Sooyoung's business. She has other priorities.

****

[I didn't have it in me to write it all out. But Sooyoung continues to visit Dokja (no one's really coming over to sign the discharge papers, anyway, so the nurses begrudgingly let it pass). This Dokja is weird. He barely talks, and he can't make eye contact well. He answers everything she asks, but that's it. Just answers. And when she tries to look into his eyes she finds nothing. A deep, tired disinterest in the world. This Kim Dokja is nothing like the one she knew, and the thought scares her.]

****

Eventually a discharge date comes around. Dokja is far from fully healed, but he's in good enough shape (and the doctors finally got a hold of his uncle) that he's cleared to return home. Sooyoung is tempted to put salt in all the nurses' coffee dispensers. Or rat poison.

"So, you're going home soon?" She asks as if his sparse belongings aren't packed in a bag next to him. He's regained some color in his cheeks, but he still looks too young for his age, and too shrivelled. Dokja hums absently, fiddling with the straps of the backpack.

Anything. Anything at all. Say the word, and a room in her mansion could be cleared in an instant. Sure, it'd lead to lots of questions, but she's not a kid anymore, and she could always threaten to leak her parents' affair online. After all, she's the living proof of it herself, and-

"Your relative is still here?" He asks in a tone too formal for her liking. She's thinking of a good answer when she looks away from the still-present bruises up towards his face. Empty, again. He's asking for the sake of formality, but he doesn't care. Even if he can tell that the relative is an excuse and that she has no business coming every night to meet a random teenager - he doesn't care.

"Say," Sooyoung blurts, "what's your favorite kind of story?"

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He grips the bedsheet under him just a little tighter. Still, it's the biggest reaction she's managed to get out of him in a long time.

"....Fiction." He mumbles. "I like the ones with happy endings."

Oh. She clenches her fist, then unclenches it. Her face feels a little hot, and her palms are getting sweaty. Oh.

"What if it were a bad ending?" Her voice is a little shaky.

He hums softly. "That's fine, too. It's a realistic ending."

"What... kind of character would you like?"

"Well..." He sounds wistful. "Someone who's strong, probably?"

****

On the day the world doesn't end, she is running home. It's almost sunrise, and she can't let her younger self wake up in the middle of the city for a second time. She should get home quickly, and wait for the next night to re-coup. She can think this through, and come up with a better solution. Maybe she could change schools, or make that dokkaebi keep an eye on him, or arrange some coincidental run-ins. She could force him to install a messaging app and insist they only talk at night. She could tell him she's working on a silly little thing. It's wishy-washy and has a protagonist too over-powered for his own good. She could tell him a tale, over text messages and voice calls, and it could be enough. It doesn't have to be that story, she can work around it, keep the parts that'll interest him. Maybe even make him call her 'author-nim', just for fun. Just to hear that change in his voice again, when he recalled that story.

Just as soon as she reaches home.

[Your ego is-]

Right, it'll be okay. She'll rest for today, and get things started at night. It'll be okay.

The day the world doesn't end, Sooyoung is running up the street to her house. The first gentle rays of the sun are starting to appear, and the world is changing from a blue tint into soft color. The wind is harsh against her lungs and her eyes are stinging.

When she told him goodbye the night before his discharge, she grabbed his too-thin wrist and asked him to stay in touch. She said she was actually a really good writer, and there was something she really wanted to show him. She had a feeling he would like it, and she wanted his feedback.

When he had sealed the Apocalypse dragon and stayed behind, she had grabbed him by the collar of his coat and asked what the hell he was thinking. She asked him what plan he had now, and why on earth was he choosing to stay behind when this worldline was already doomed?

She can remember it now, finally. That look he gave her under the fluorescent lighting of the hospital room. The one he had given her as he turned to leave the office. The sun was setting, then, and he was going to check in on Yoo Joonghyuk before joining the companions for dinner.

What ending do you even think you'll be able to reach, she had yelled at that retreating back. And he turned around, and he gave her that smile. The kind that knows the answer, but won't tell you. The kind that, resigned, seems to say, That's just how life is.

She thought she could've rewritten it for him.

would anyone like to hear an angsty (a little OOC) doksoo fic idea 🥺

[katcadecascade]

Dumplings Before this World Ends (ORV oneshot)

*spoilers up to chapter 235

Summary: 

First Murim is known for their dumplings. It's a shame that Kim Dokja mostly remembers that this place is gonna be destroyed later but for right now he'll enjoy the dumplings with Yoo Jonghyuk.

Kim Dokja is a bit ashamed to admit that he has never been asked out for dinner.

As a man in modern society that clings to traditional (heteronormative) relationships, Kim Dokja attempted to ask out a few women in his life. They all declined to no one’s surprise.

It didn’t discourage him to purse romance. It just reinforced his daily solitude to keep reading Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse.

There wasn’t much else in his life to emotionally invest into.

So majority of his life is spent diverging into the words of a fictional world.

Then to everyone’s surprise, Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse became real. There is a lot to unpack there, the whole reality shaking knowledge of trying to understand how any of this is possibly and how so far Kim Dokja has not been dead.

Like permanently because he promised to his companions that he’ll come back.

Kim Dokja is still trying to make his way to them, currently preparing for the Demon King Selection. His plan right now is to get the Breaking the Sky Sword Saint on his side by shoving Yoo Jonghyuk back onto First Murin against the protagonist’s wishes.

It’s a good plan right?

So far, the only kink in the plan is the unexpected invitation to the Gourmet Association.

Oh and the fact that the Breaking the Sky Sword Saint forces Yoo Jonghyuk and Kim Dokja out of her temple to go have dinner.

[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ is ecstatic of these turn of events]

A bit dumbfounded, Kim Dokja tried to refuse all of this but instead Yoo Jonghyuk simply started walking to the town district and said one thing as if everything was normal.

“Are you coming or not?”

Kim Dokja could’ve just go back in the temple, pretend that Yoo Jonghyuk didn’t just ask him out for dinner in the rudest way possible, and remain as a dateless nobody he has always been.

After all, who would ever ask out Kim Dokja?

But this is Yoo Jonghyuk, a protagonist that he has followed and practically knows like the back of his hand.

Kim Dokja accepts the invitation and starts walking by Yoo Jonghyuk’s side.

First Murin’s nightlife is a pretty scene to witness in person. No amount of written words it has been described in the novel matches the way Kim Dokja is feeling. He feels otherworldly for stepping into this supposed fictional world, a real tourist in actuality, but as much as he enjoys the scenery is can’t help but morn.

Both he and Yoo Jonghyuk await the fated destruction of First Murim. This place of forsaken tradition is simply not to be. One day this place will fall as depicted in the original novel.

But before then, dumplings.

Yoo Jonghyuk leads them to a hole in the wall restaurant. The restaurant perfectly matches the one in the book, a small place filled with many people and yet the power of the protagonist guarantees a table in the corner for them.

A server quickly gets their order for the all-you-can-eat dumpling special and thus leaves Yoo Jonghyuk and Kim Dokja in silence. Obviously, Yoo Jonghyuk opted to stare out the window rather than the awkward shape before him.

As mentioned before, Kim Dokja has never been asked out on a date and he’s hesitant to even call this one a date. He will always be an introvert at worst and yet with Yoo Jonghyuk he feels weirdly comfortable, sort of.

Any time they’re together it was only to barely make it past a dangerous scenario.

Right now, the biggest danger is probably making it through this night with Kim Dokja’s dignity intact.

“So,” Kim Dokja idly traces the condensation on his glass of water, “how’s earth?”

What he really meant was how the others was but he already asked that back in the Demon Realm. If Kim Dokja knows anything about Yoo Jonghyuk, and he does, then small talk is the last thing the protagonist will indulge in.

Yet this is Kim Dokja and he’s known to annoy Yoo Jonghyuk.

“I wouldn’t have to tell you if did not die.”

“Look, I was fated to die.”

“By the one you love most.”

“Do you have to remind me?”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyebrow twitches. “I killed you.”

“It was a group effort.”

“Do you have any idea,” Yoo Jonghyuk begins hotly but like a star it dies out fast with a muttered, “…never mind.”

“Huh?”

Before Kim Dokja could question further, a server delivers them a big amount of steamer baskets. Yoo Jonghyuk wastes no time to take off the lid, releasing a puff of hot steam of the most delicious smelling dumpling ever created in a once fictional world.

As much as Kim Dokja wants to copy Yoo Jonghyuk on just happily eating the dumpling, he wants something else first.

“You were gonna say something.”

Stubbornly, Yoo Jonghyuk ate a dumpling in silence. In retaliation, Kim Dokja did the most suicidal thing he could ever do (discounting all his previous deaths of course). He stole the next dumpling Yoo Jonghyuk was aiming for.

The protagonist glares at the reader munching on the savory dumpling. It’s very good. A part of him melts at the sheer taste.

Before Kim Dokja could pick out another dumpling, Yoo Jonghyuk says something that shakes the constellation to his core.

“They miss you.”

Kim Dokja remains frozen for an impatiently long time, long enough for Yoo Jonghyuk to grab the next basket for a new set of hot dumplings.

“Bastard, why are you shocked?”

“Because I am.”

If there was another curse in mind, Yoo Jonghyuk doesn’t say it. He just studies how Kim Dokja is currently working his brain in overtime.

Truly, he is shocked because this would be the first time he has ever heard that sentiment directed towards him.

(Did his own mother ever say that to Kim Dokja?)

The concept of someone actually missing Kim Dokja has never occurred to him. It is a genuine surprise to a person lonely and new to friendships. It’s a strange detachment to reality for the reader, especially since he techniqually ‘died’ before them all.

So not only do they miss him, they have grieved for Kim Dokja.

It really is a strange idea to think about, especially since it’s Yoo Jonghyuk presenting all these facts.

Kim Dokja know that Yoo Jonghyuk can’t ever know if anyone has ever grieved for him because the moment he dies, it’s a new timeline. Meaning his friends forget all about the scenarios and sufferings, they all endured. Besides, they usually die before Yoo Jonghuk.

It’s harsh to suggest that maybe Yoo Jonghyuk and the others should get used to Kim Dokja’s death. However, Kim Dokja doesn’t think like that. Instead, he still trying to comprehend the idea that people miss him.

He who is out casted and unremarkable. He who prefers the words of a lonely book. He who has made friends in the first time in his life.

Kim Dokja died for them multiple times already with no regret… well except for this new one.

A ringing ache settles onto his heart, still struggling against these new feelings of something soft and precious.

“I’m going to see them again.” He swallows down a lump of that weird feeling, “I promised them.”

“I know,” Yoo Jonghyuk glares, “You better keep your promise.”

Kim Dokja forces a smile, ignoring the present jumble of emotions trapped inside, “Did you miss me too?”

“You bastard.” Yoo Jonghyuk’s glare is harsher than ever.

The man’s insult is a relief to Kim Dokja. This blunt rudeness is more familiar to him than the warm guilt-ridden idea that his friends miss him.

He orchestrated them to kill him. It’s a bit difficult to remember it.

Kim Dokja will die by the one he loves most.

In the end, Yoo Jonghyuk did the last blow.

Kim Dokja thinks Han Sooyoung will tease him about this ‘poetic’ event.

“I miss them too,” he finally says.

Yoo Jonghyuk stops glaring and nods.

Under his breath, Kim Dokja adds, “That includes you.’

He stuffs another dumpling in his mouth.

It took a lot of boldness to breathe that out. Kim Dokja can’t look at Yoo Jonghyuk.

Yet over Omniscient Viewpoint…

[He missed me?]

If Kim Dokja looked up from his food, he would’ve seen the smallest of smiles on Yoo Jonghyuk.

[…that bastard.]

Eventually the rest of the dumplings are gone but that warm feeling remains inside Kim Dokja.