#kdj sweep

[readers-folly]

kdj’s trauma is deep to the extent that he chose a story he’d read his whole life to take care of him rather than his own mother. the person who recommended him really didn’t want to put spoilers, but to put it without them, he lived to see the story that saved his life, and when it came to light (that he was put into said story against his will), he sacrificed himself over and over to see its completion.

[END OF NOVEL SPOILERS]

He would die so many times to protect his ending, the ending he truly wanted to see, and couldn’t even enjoy it with the people who reshaped it beside him. he lived for the story, died for the story, and told the story. he’s the reader, yes, but he’s the one creating the story on his own. it’s what he needed in order to survive. he would do this infinite times to protect the thing he loved most, sacrificing billions in order to do so. he became the story itself. loved the characters, chose to live for them when they ‘didn’t exist’, and chose to die for them so they could exist.

he would choose his story over the universe in any world.

he grew up in an abusive household with his mother trying to protect him any way she could, including taking the blame after he killed his father, and making him frame her for the crime in his mind. he was moved to a relative’s house, who took all the money from the book about his life and kicked him out as soon as possible. died several times in the scenarios for the sake of the story, and when it was over, split himself almost perfectly in order to become the creator of the Star Stream so that his companions could live.

he chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of the story, from his attempted suicide at 15 to the scattering of his fragments after the scenarios.

he is the definition of tragedy.

anyway VOTE KDJ WOOOOO 🎉🎉🎉

PROPAGANDA UNDER THE CUT: [SPOILERS AND POSSIBLE TRIGGERS AHEAD]

KIM DOKJA:

XIE WANG//SCORPION KING:

[jomeimei421]

congrats jdj on beating the pairing that invented slash fiction in the 2023 yaoi-off on tumblr dot com 🎉

[wanderershu]

Congratulations to joongdok for winning the poll, by the way. At this point, I think that literally every other fandom believes that joongdok are canon and that's beautiful.

[most-stylish-competition]

Hello I log in to check my tumblr and

wow

what is up with the kdj and shinji bracket are y'all ok

[happyfanofeverything]

about orv. i feel most like yjh in that i want someone like kdj in my life. but looking back on my history of relationships i act like kdj the most, rather than like yjh. but no one will ever pursue caring for me like yjh to kdj. yeah

[lee-hakhyun]

lhh had used orv 3 to check on his companions a few chapters ago, but kimcom's constant thinking of kdj forced him over to view them as well. last chapter had yjh reminiscing about his astronaut time (see yhk kids) and near the end of it, he sensed lhh watching him which scared the shit out of lhh and he went to someone else.

and now he finds himself possessing the kkoma kdj that kimcom has been taking care of. he can see yerin and eunyu struggling while he's passed out, but as he tries to deactivate orv there's an error... he watches them for a while, listening to their thoughts.. watching them, he loses confidence in his plan to change the 41st round. what happens to kimcom after the round is changed?

then yoo joonghyuk walks in shouting kim dokjas name. ysa tries to ask what's going on, and yjh just keeps saying that kim dokja was here. and then he sees the kkoma kdj. and immediately bursts over with [red phoenix shunpo] and grabs him. lhh is frantically trying to release orv while yjh glares at him. kimcom tries to explain that it's not really kdj, and points at the screen showing lhh.

but then they notice that he's passed out. and the skill that kdj uses when he passes out... kimcom gather around lhh. a silence sweeps over the group. and they all come to a conclusion.

"let's lock him up."

[kimdokjas]

literally INSANE how we managed to pull through at the last minute and win with 51/49 it really is such a kdj thing to do. anyways jooongdok sweep real <3 now time to show this poll to everyone you know and make them read orv

[solaaresque]

@kkomaism

[favcharacterpoll]

ROUND 6 MATCH 5: DOKJA VS QUILL

Kim Dokja from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint faces Quill Kipps from the Lockwood & Co. books. Who do you like more?

Dokja Propaganda:

"hes just everything to me. you dont understand. i type out orv characters so much that my phone will autocorrect 'just' to 'hsy' and 'okay' to 'kdj'"

"vote kim dokja he lives in my brain rent free top floor penthouse suite 24/7 room service etc"

"HES JESUS FOR THE MENTALLY ILL"

"kdj sweep hes my savior hes ruined my life hes my favorite"

"dojka is a whore. vote for his scheming gay ass"

"he's literally a father figure to these kids AND he has this homoerotic rivalry"

Quill Propaganda:

"He's such a loser. Has beef with 3 16 year olds. He's like 4'10. Had one of the best character arcs ever. He almost died. His sword is bejeweled."

"guys vote for my son quilliam and his stupid little bedazzled sword"

"you wanna punch his face in in the first book and by the end you're sobbing buckets and loving and protecting him as if he were your own and my closing argument: it would be really really fucking funny"

"VOTE QUILL HE HAS FUNNY GOGGLES AND IS BEEFING WITH A TEENAGER BECAUSE THAT TEENAGER STABBED HIM IN THE ASS DURING A FENCING COMPETITION WHEN HE WAS LIKE 11 AND QUILL NEVER GOT OVER IT"

[orviposition]

We all joke about SP being the second ML if ORV was a K-drama, but I fully, 100% believe that if it actually was one with KDJ as the MC, it would be set up that way - 3rd/1864th YJH as the male lead, SP as his rival - only for 999 to crash in with a steel chair and sweep KDJ off his feet with ZERO prior warning, and for YJH and SP to have to reluctantly team up to remove this new threat.

lmao this but add in 0 too cuz that man has RANGE

[redrandomposts]

enabler kdj only recognizing yandere yjh's obsession w/ him because he's the mc, but is oblivious to anyone else's affection twrds him

"Dokja-ssi..!" a girl that kdj saved said, halting the ongoing small talk. "I got you a gift for saving me!"

kdj takes it and watches the girl run off. hes sus of the gift and when yjh takes it from him he allows it, confused.

yjh giving kdj the same gift(but changed slightly) later when kdj has forgotten about it, and the girl watches from afar, heartbroken.

the group starts to avoid him after a few "accidents" involving people who try to court kdj, and kdj not noticing bc yjh seems to be hanging around him lately

("why tf is this sunfish bastard here?! he should be at the sub scenario to get that one item..!")

ysy tries to clue kdj in on the weird occurrences but kdj is oblivious/misunderstands it and starts taking her words as a joke

("its weird that all those people just disappeared, yeah? surely thats too many to be a coincidence."

"...ysy they all died in scenarios? what do you mean coincidence?"

"they all were going to ask you out, yknow?"

"dont be silly, who would want to ask me out?")

no one can really say anything to him when yjh takes up so much of his time

still enabler kdj so internally, he is giddy at all the time yjh dedicates to him, ans starts pushing to see the limits. he puts himself in dangerous, self-sacrificing scenarios and watches yjh save him each and every time.

(meanwhile the rest of the team feels useless at being unable to save kdj like yjh can)

yjh feels more and more gratified as kdj starts to rely on him more and more. this comes to a breaking point when kdj is affected by the failure in a scenario (yjh did not attend), causing his skills to be turned down/off.

yjh holes kdj in some abandoned building for the duration of the time, where not even the star stream can see them.

when they return to the company building, no one can even utter a worry for kdj before yjh sweeps him away to another scenario.

anyways this was just a blurt. if anyone does anything w this tag me or something please

[kyolypso]

went through the tags and found some hilarious gems

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

more western au!! this piece takes place before kdj fakes his death the first time but after he and hsy have met. enjoy!!

They’ve been talking for somewhere upwards of an hour (about inanities, nothing of substance, really) when the wind howls for the first time.

The rickety wicker chairs he and Han Sooyoung are sitting in creak with every move—a trait she says they had from the moment she bought them, but as Kim Dokja watches her tip the chair so far back she’s nearly parallel to the ground, he’s not inclined to believe her. Sheriff Han Sooyoung, he’s finding, seems to be intimately familiar with the concept of hyperbole.

���Wind’s roarin’. Probably should get yourself indoors,” she says, lips still curled around the blunt end of a cigar. 

He’s not stupid. He’s lived in this town longer than she has; he knows the signs of a dust storm brewing just as well as any other desert-dweller. There’s been an impenetrable wall of ruddy brown slowly encroaching on the horizon for a while now, accompanied by great hanging fist-like clouds. The air smells faintly of ozone, the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up as the wind sweeps up plumes of dust. The issue is not that he doesn’t know better: the problem is that he doesn’t have an indoors to get himself inside.

But that’s none of her concern.

“I’m aware.” He’s quite proud of how neutral he sounds. He still hasn't quite figured out where exactly he'll hide out at, but he'll think of something. It's sort of his thing.

She must read some of his thoughts off his face as her fine brow develops a narrow crease, the corner of her mouth pulling into the beginnings of a scowl. "You haven't got anywhere to go, huh?"

He waves her off, pushing out of his seat. "I'll find a barn to lay low in. Shouldn't be too hard t'find a soft-hearted farmer." 

It clearly isn't the assuaging remark he intends it to be because the crease furrows further and her discontent is written outright in the sharp line of her narrowed eyes. 

But she doesn't say anything further, so he takes it as permission to leave. He's about to step off the porch when he hears the rasp of Sooyoung putting out her cigar.

"Get your ass back here. I'm not done with you."

There's always been a sharpness to her, even from the moment they first met. He'd caught her counting cards at the poker tables back at the saloon, and almost called her out on it but she'd removed her pearl-handled pistol from its holster and set it very calmly on the table, watching him with dark, narrowed eyes. He can’t shake the feeling that she hasn't stopped watching him since, the vague feeling of those near-black eyes tracking him as he slunk out into the alleyway behind the saloon, the sensation prickling his nerves, raising the hair on the back of his neck—the rumble before a storm.

He turns back around, cracking a crooked grin. "Miss me already? You should've said so."

Now normally, she'd scowl further at him or something, canines flashing like a disgruntled cat. He'd ruffle her hair and she'd kick him in the shins probably harder than necessary and they'd bicker in good faith for maybe another half hour or so before she'd let him go. 

She's frowning though. She's standing now, one hand resting on the table by the little clay ashtray he’d given her that Biyoo had given him before he stppped smoking. 

"You don’t have to leave, you know," she says. There's something weird in her voice, neither the blunt cruelty inherent to her resting speech nor the cold sharpness of her rage. It's foreign, it's not cold at all but Dokja's still hesitant to call it warm, and whether that's a result of his opinion on her capability for it or on his viability as a receptacle for it is between him and the nearest bottle of gin he can supplicate himself to.

"What, gonna put me up in a cell, sheriff? How generous." He feels vaguely itchy. It's a little windier now, the wind rustling his hair some, whipping in front of his eyes. He's probably overdue for a trim.

Now she scowls. "Just get inside." She turns away from him and picks up the stub of her cigar and the little ashtray with surprising gentleness, then kicks open the door to the station with barely contained violence. It's a rather fitting tableau of her general demeanor.

She doesn't hold it open for him though, and he's halfway tempted to leave anyway, but she throws a, "and I best not turn around and see you gone," over her shoulder so he follows behind her.

Her boots click on the wooden floors, the keys at her hip rattling against her gun and holster, echoing strangely in the empty station. There's a reasonably nice sitting area, a vase of flowers on the cusp of wilting in the middle of a low table atop a cream and black woven runner done in some geometric pattern he doesn't particularly care enough to remember the name of. Her desk is littered with papers, mugs and cups and what may have once been a brandy snifter before its inevitable surrender to a thick layer of dust speckled in between the deluge. It's not the first time he's been in the station—as a tenant or a visitor—but there’s an eerie emptiness to it, an undefineable aura of solitude, of liminality, compounded by the still howling wind just outside, the faint rattle of the window hatch.

She throws open a door in the back, leading to a narrow stairwell only faintly lit by the watery brownish light coming from the windows and receding fully into black nothingness by the fifth or sixth step. 

"You gonna keep gawkin'?"

"Not much to gawk at," he fires back on instinct, and he's rewarded with a familiar scowl and some irritated-sounding muttering.

"Just get up here."

He grins and follows behind her, up two flights of stairs (one step creaked particularly violently and Sooyoung cackled ahead of him), coming up to a cozy apartment space. Cozy being a generous descriptor, as it seems half of it has been overtaken by more filing cabinets and a truely hideous rug hanging on the wall to his left. But otherwise its almost pleasant; there's a kitchenette with a stout little wood fire stove towards the back, a lounge chair with only maybe two or three cigarette burns with another nice textile blanket in the same geometric pattern as the runner downstairs across the back of it, a little bookshelf with six or seven dog-eared books beside it. He’s almost put off by how nice it is, how lived in it feels. The itchy feeling persists, and he has to actively push down the urge to spin on his heel and run.

She stoops down in front of a cabinet in the kitchen space and retrieves a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses.

"Sit," she says, pointing sharply at the couch, "and don't think I didn't notice you ditherin' by the door."

He sits. She walks over and drops beside him, setting the bottle and the glasses on the table in front of them with a noticeable plonk. She flicks the top of the bottle open and deposits a heavy pour into both glasses before handing one to him.

He takes a tentative sip and nearly gags. "Lord, that's awful. You could strip the color off a horse with that, good God, woman."

She laughs, sharp and feral. "Good. Now drink."

He wrinkles his nose and takes a delicate sip, watching out of the corner of his eye as she drains the glass in one go, slamming the glass back down with a sigh.

"So," she says.

"So."

She wipes the corner of her mouth with her sleeve. "You don’t have a place to crash."

A part of him has a very specific direction he'd like this to go, possibly including some of the highlights from a few late night reveries he’s awoken from red-faced and trembling, but he shoves that part very far down and schools his face into something approaching neutrality. "I don't," he says tentatively.

"I happen to have a perfectly serviceable couch and a slight excess of funding that I'm inclined to spend."

He picks up his glass again, takes another sip of the sharply acrid liquid. "I'm strugglin' to see where this involves me."

Again, normally she'd snap at him, maybe throw some insults, make a few disparaging comments on the integrity of his mother, and he'd laugh them off. Call her short or something. She doesn't do any of that.

Sooyoung shifts so she's facing him directly, the weight of her stare pinning him in place. The wind whispers, wraith-like, rattling the windows, a sign of impending destruction. There's a cruel irony in it, and if he were a braver man he might even comment on it. But he isn't so he looks away and swirls the gold-ish liquid in his glass.

"You're staying here." She's blunt again, and he can feel her eyes on him. The weight of her undivided attention is near unbearable and he has to fight not to squirm. "No," she says, and she puts her hand on his thigh, "I want you to stay here, but I won't hear any arguments."

He swallows. Her nails are long, pressing slightly into his leg. He can’t seem to get his thoughts in order enough to protest.

It's never escaped his notice that Han Sooyoung is, objectively speaking, a very attractive woman. Her eyes are dark and framed by softly curling lashes, a mole on one side atop sharp cheekbones. Her mouth, while thin, is a reddish-pinkish color, like blood in water, and her teeth are white and straight. She's pretty short even with the not-insubstantial heel on her boots—a source of ire for her, but he’s always thought it was kind of nice how he could easily put his arm around her shoulder if he wanted. He never has, of course. The point is that she's beautiful enough to have no reason to be putting her hand on the leg of someone like him, and especially none inviting him to stay in her home.

But he’s selfish. It's perhaps his only consistency, the only real thing about him. Much of Kim Dokja is a construct developed in the moment, for the moment, but self-absorption is something thats stuck on all fronts. He wants her to keep her hand there, he wants her to put her head on his shoulder, thread her hand through his hair, rake her nails down his spine—he wants her beside him, he wants her around him, he wants to hear her say his name, low in her throat, shaped by red lips—

He wants her badly enough to know he shouldn't, so in what is perhaps among the only good things he's ever done he drains the rest of his drink and gets up, letting her hand slip off his leg.

"Nice to see you've developed a charitable streak, sheriff. But I really ought t'be getting back." He dusts imaginary dirt off his pants, ignoring the spot of warmth where her hand was. "Han Myungoh'll have my hide if I skip out again."

She should be furious with him. He wants her to be furious, he wants her to yank him back onto her couch and pin him down, she wants her to hold him back so he can never leave again. But she doesn't, so he opens the door and goes back down the rickety stairs and ignores the wind, the itching desire crawling up his spine, and steps back out into the storm.

[makethosenarratorsfight]

sooo excited for this. hope kim dokja sweeps btw

i hope he gets at least 2 rounds in :') i believe in you kdj cmon!!

[ariapmdeol]

*cough* Dokja and Joonghyuk--

I CAN BE PICKY ABT CHARACTERIZATION WHEN THEYRE SHIPPED BUT i really do like them-- the duo of all time they are obsessed with each other and its so funny kdj and yjh sweep!

[most-stylish-competition]

Coral and Sage, maybe ?

Coral -> participant(s) you did not expect to make it this far

was fully expecting Mel and KDJ to get sweeped, pleasantly surprised that they were not! off the top of my head I can't think of anyone else

Sage -> showdown you’re most excited for?

Not quite sure what this question means but if it means a different showdown:

Been following the two oc ones (@original-character-championship and @smallartistocbracket) and I'm excited to see them start!

And if it means my own bracket:

I'm excited for dazai v chuuya because either way it's gonna be funny