I was joking a while back that the actor they have playing KDJ for the orv movie was too handsome for him and a friend who's read orv was like "KDJ is actually secretly attractive!!" And I just felt my soul leave my body right then
SIGHS...
Okay. Buckle in. I'm gonna finally actually address and explain and theorize about this whole...thing.
I'm not gonna cite any exact chapters cause it's like 11:30 and I've got an 8 hour drive in the morning but I'll at least make an approximate reference to where certain things are mentioned. Also, this post is just my personal interpretation for a good bit of it, but it's an interpretation I feel very solid about, so do with that what you will. Moving on to the meat of things:
There is one (1) instance in the web novel that I know of which describes specific features of Kim Dokja (especially ones other people notice). This takes place when members of KimCom are trying to make Kim Dokja presentable to give his speech at the Industrial Complex (after it's been plopped down on Earth). This is when they start really paying attention and focusing on Kim Dokja's appearance since they're putting makeup on him; I still don't think they can interpret his whole face, but they can accurately pick out and retain more features than usual. If I remember correctly they reference him having long eyelashes, smooth skin, and soft hair. These features can be viewed as (stereotypically) attractive.
Certain parts of the fandom have taken this scene and run with it at a very surface level, without realizing (or without acknowledging at the very least) that this scene is not about how Kim Dokja looks. This is, in part, due to not realizing or acknowledging why Kim Dokja's face is "censored" in the first place, and what that censoring actually means. I think it's also possible that some people are assuming the censorship works like a physical phenomena rather than an altered perception.
I'll address that last point first. The censorship of Kim Dokja's features is not something as simple as a physical phenomena. It's not a bar or scribble or mosaic over his face. If that were true it'd be very obvious to anyone looking at him that his face is hidden. But his face is not hidden to people. They can look at him and see a face. If they concentrate on his eyes, they can see where he's looking. They know when he's frowning or grinning. They see a face loud and clear. But what face are they seeing? Because it's not really his, whatever they're seeing.
No one quite agrees on what he really looks like. And if they try and think about what he looks like, they can't recall. Or if they do, it's vague, or different each time. We notice these little details throughout the series. Basically, Kim Dokja's face is cognitively obscured. Something - likely the Fourth Wall, though I can't recall if this is ever stated outright - is interfering with everyone's ability to perceive him properly. This culminated in him feeling off to others; and since they don't even realize this is happening, they surmise that he is "ugly."
Moving on to the other point about what the censorship means: To be blunt, the censorship of his face is an allegory for his disconnect from the "story" (aka: real life, and the real people at his side). The lifting - however slight - of this censorship represents him becoming more and more a part of the "story" (aka: less disconnected from the life he is living and the people at his side). The censorship's existence and lifting can represent other things - like dissociation or depersonalization or, if you want to get really meta, the fact that he is all of our faces at once - but that's how I'd sum up the main premise of it. (The Fourth Wall is a larger part of the dissociation allegory, but that's for another post).
So you see, them noticing his individual features isn't about the features. It's not about the features! It doesn't matter at all which features got listed. Because they could describe any features whatsoever and it would not change the entire point of the scene. Because the point isn't what he looks like. The point is that they can truly and clearly see these features. For the first time. They are seeing parts of him for the first time. Re-read that sentence multiple times, literally and metaphorically. What does it mean to see someone as they are?
This is an extremely significant turning point dressed up as a dress-up scene.
---
P.S. / Additionally, I'm of the opinion that Kim Dokja is not handsome, and he is not ugly. He is not pretty, and he is not ghastly. Not attractive, nor unattractive. Kim Dokja isn't any of these things. More importantly, Kim Dokja can't be any of these things. The entire point of Kim Dokja is that you cannot pick him out of a crowd; he is the crowd. He's a reader. He's the reader. Why does he need to be handsome? Why must he be pretty? Why is him being attractive necessary or relevant? He doesn't, he doesn't, it's not. He is someone deeply deeply loved and irreplaceable to those around him, and someone who cannot even begin to recognize or accept that unless it's through a love letter masquerading as a story he can read. He is the crowd, a reader, the reader. He's you, he's me. He's every single one of us.
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midnight cravings
riddle rosehearts; 1,603 words; nsfw, pls dni if ur a minor; all characters depicted as 18+; fem!reader, tipsy!riddle, oral, fingerfucking, senpai!kink???... welp.
you find him with flushed cheeks and sticky fingers, his eyes honey-glazed as he looks up at you over the tray of liqueur-filled chocolates, his lips stained pink with laughter. he hiccups, tongue darting out to lick at his fingertips, his whole body swaying when you raise an eyebrow and blink.
“riddle?”
“o-oh — oops…”
“what on earth…”
he hiccups again, giggling as he stumbles his way towards you, nearly tripping over his very well-polished boots, leaning down towards you with a shy, sly kind of smile that makes your stomach twist like taffy inside you.
“hm… guess trey made them a little strong this year…” he muses, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again.
“riddle… were those the whiskey chocolates that trey-senpai made for tomorrow’s holiday party?”
“mm… well, he did say i could try one… or two…”
you can’t help the smile stretching across your lips.
“or… seven?”
riddle purses his lips, his lashes fluttering as he lets out a soft sigh. you can smell the sweetness on his breath, the golden sting of whiskey, feel the closeness of his body to yours. you forget that he’s taller than you, but like this, he could cage you in easily, his eyes half-lidded, his smile knowing and lazy and distinctly cat-like.
“don’t make fun of me…” he says, his voice soft as he cocks his head.
“i — i’m not… i just…”
your breath catches as your eyes snag on the teasing edge of his smile, the way it lilts lopsided, the way he still tries to play at innocence even when the tension is palpable between you, thick as warmed butter.
“just… what? hm?”
you know you’re finished before your lips even meet, but when they do, you find yourself whimpering, the force of him startling. and sure, it’s different from how he usually is — sweet, attentive, perhaps a bit on the rigid side, but it isn’t like you haven’t seen him like this before, haven’t felt him like this before — on the occasions when he’s irked or tired or perhaps just a bite too excited. when he’s too happy or dizzy or drunk on life or laughter or you —
like this, he leaves you gasping.
“hm… i was just thinking…” he pulls back, casually swiping a thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes dark and hungry, tracking the wet trail his finger makes as it presses along the length of your mouth, dragging down your cheek till he can tilt your chin up towards him again.
“you never call me ‘senpai’… but you do with trey and cater… why’s that?” he asks, his voice just on the other side of nonchalance, his expression one of sharp, targeted curiosity, like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it instead.
“i — i’m sorry, i’ll —”
“say it.”
you swallow, catch your lower lip in your teeth, eyes locking with his as his grin spreads cheshire-wide.
“s-senpai…”
his next breath is light, is one of laughter as he leans back down, “mm… good girl.”
you shiver as tingles rake up the length of your spine.
and then your thoughts skid through to pure incoherence as he melds his mouth to yours once more, pulling you to him, kissing you hard, kissing you hungry, kissing you like there’s an entire world somewhere beneath your tongue that he’d love nothing more than to be the cartographer for — you squeak as he hoists you up, always so much stronger than even you give him credit for, plopping you down on the biting cold of the metal kitchen table.
“y’know… i’d come down for a midnight snack originally…” he says, taking half a step back to look you over, taking in the muss of your hair, the ruffle of your clothes, your uniform collar loose and askew, your skin a tantalizing glimmer in the soft, dappled moonlight. and then, he drops to his knees and you nearly hiss in anticipation.
he trails his fingers along the bare skin of your thighs, pillowing his cheek on one of them.
“but i think i might just want to eat you instead.”
“r-riddle — !”
your eyes squeeze shut as he presses open your legs, your toes curling at the openness of it all, at the shock of embarrassment at being spread out like this, on the school’s kitchen table, no less — but riddle hums as he lets his hot breath wash over you, a thick groan rolling out of him as he tugs aside your panties and slicks a thumb through the wetness already collected along your folds.
“fuck,” he murmurs, and it punches through you, the way he says it, usually never one for such obscenities, the word slipping from him, more a prayer than a curse.
fuck, you agree, letting your head tip back as he leans in to lick a slow strip along your cunt, your fingers fisting in his hair, and on any other day, he might’ve balked at the sting, but now, tonight, he only revels in the way you pull him closer, your thighs shaking on either side of his head, the taste of you exquisite on his tongue.
“ri-riddle… please…” your voice trails off into a high-pitched whine as he wraps his mouth around your clit and sucks, leaving you a shaking pile atop the glistening metal table, still loaded to the one side with trey’s chocolate liqueurs. riddle grins, lifting his eyes to watch as you peer down at him, your cheeks dark with color, truly the sweetest, most intoxicating sight. the soft, warm, buzz of alcohol had loosened his limbs and inhibitions enough and he thinks that he likes you like this — pleading for him, shaking apart for him.
“ah… so pretty…” he muses, even as he leans up to press two fingers into you, fucking you slow, savoring the way you gasp and clench down around him, tight, and then tighter, your knees pressing together as if you could somehow keep him there. he grins.
“m-more… ah — ngh —”
your fingers scrabble for purchase you reach blindly down towards him, trying to do something, anything to get him to go faster, harder, perhaps to curl his fingers the way he knows you like. but he only catches your hands, holding your wrists still as he leans over you, his torso keeping your knees spread just so, his other hand still sunk knuckle-deep inside you.
“hehh… i don’t think you’re really in the position to make demands right now…” he runs a tight circle of your clit with his thumb and watches as your entire body arches off the table in pleasure.
“rid-dle — riddle — s-senpai — !”
his body shudders as he lets out a breathy laugh, his head dropping as he finally picks up the pace, fucking his fingers into you hard enough for you to keen before dropping back down to press his tongue back to your folds, sucking hard just to hear you scream.
“mm… look so good like this… so desperate for me, hm? what a pretty… little… pastry…” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts of his fingers, curling them inside you till he finds the place he’s looking for, the soft, tender spot inside you that has you twitching around him, begging and nearly incoherent with pleasure.
“’m s-so c-close — close —”
he moans loud and lewd against you as he pulls his fingers from inside your cunt, replacing it with his tongue, gripping your thighs as he eats you out hard enough for you to come undone right over his mouth, your body writhing over the metal table, nearly knocking the trays of sweets from their place beside you.
“aah-ahh… we’ve made… a mess…” he says, sounding rather pleased with himself as he pulls back, licking his lips, dragging a thumb across his chin before popping into his mouth, his eyes still locked with yours. you shudder as the aftershocks of your orgasm rake through you, not entirely able to shake the way he’s still watching you, as if this has done nothing to sate his particular brand of hunger.
he gives your thigh a small pat as you take a breath and force your body to sit up, cheeks flushing as you tug your panties back up your legs, smoothing your palms over the material of your skirt as you hop off the table.
“did… did you sober up a bit?” you ask, your voice uncharacteristically quiet as riddle leads you from the school kitchens, hand in hand, his gait still much more relaxed than it would’ve been in the daytime.
he peers at you from over his shoulder.
“hm… not in the slightest,” he says, and you stare up at him as he smirks.
the hallways are quiet as the pair of you make your way towards the hallway of mirrors, your footsteps echoing against the vast, stone walls.
“so… what are you going to tell trey-senpai tomorrow? when he asks you about the chocolates?”
riddle pauses for a second before shrugging.
“the truth, i suppose.”
“huh?”
he turns to you with that tell-tale grin as the pair of you reach the heartslabyul mirror, and he tugs you behind him towards his room.
“that i had a midnight craving, and… that it just had to be sated, now didn’t it?”
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"Ah, you want me to talk about the Twins huh?"
"Not much to say about em, really. Used to run the subway system in Iacon way back before all the slag hit the fan. Damn good at it too.
Nicest lads you'd ever met and practically inseparable! Where one went the other was close by, almost as if they were joined at the hip. Rough upbringin's will do that to ya or so I've heard
Couldn't believe it when i saw the white one on the side of the 'Cons, even less so when i realized he was by himself. We captured him one day as a POW one time. Took a lot of us to pull it off but we managed eventually. That's when I heard the story of what happened to his...I guess brother is what you humans would call them if you absolutely needed a word to describe him. Figured the 'Cons promised him a way to get him back somehow if he joined up with them and he took the offer in a desperate attempt to find him.
Though I doubt they ever did give him anything to really go by. Recruiters will say just about anything in order to get bots to join their cause. Especially when it comes to getting their servos on big, strong fellas like the Twins.
He eventually escaped us somehow; found a way to cut through his bonds and was lost to the night before any of us could even blink. Heh, and I thought his brother was the more crafty of the two.
What d'ya mean 'creepy' smile? Rude lil' thing aren't ya?
He's always been smiling like that. Well...not exactly like that but... you know that mech never had a frown on his face that I'd ever seen. Though I will admit there's something...different about that smile now. Not at all like what I seen back in Iacon. Something sinister...
Not the only one to notice it either. Ol' Rung reckons that being separated from his brother for so long did things to him. Spark twins can't be without one another for very long without it messing with their coding n whatnot, you know?
Though, Ratch knows more about the kid's situation than anybody here on this ship. Says that he apparently had done some things in order to get his brother back. Supernatural things. Things smart mechs should know to leave well enough alone.
Wherever that mech went to get his brother, he didn't come back alone....
Such a shame, he was always a sweet kid. Had a bit of a mobility issue but only when he was excited about something I think? Which was a good thing for all I care. You need to have joy in the things you love 'n he had that in spades.
Did not really understand the concept of personal space though 'n it sometimes got 'im in loads of trouble *laughs*
The black one? Whats there to say about 'im, honestly?
Incredibly polite mech, always there to lend a helping servo or two when needed, a little older than his brother i think? He would always mess with him about that little fact.
Very gentle in situations where his brother would be very harsh, but not like in a mean spirited way, more like an excitable way if that makes any sense? You would never think that what with the constant sour look etched on his face at all times *laughs*
Never liked to talk much. Though not for a lack of ability but more of a 'can't control his volume' situation. He can hit Siren levels of loud when excited enough about something or other and feels bad about it when he does. I don't mind it though, means he's found something to be happy about and that's a good thing in my book if that's worth anything.
Really hurt to hear that he went missing millennia ago. His brother looked absolutely destroyed when I saw him in that camp. I'm glad to see he made it back.
Primus the years haven't been good to him, though. Wherever he went it did numbers on his frame.
He creaks when he walks now, and his gaze has that look of a mech who has seen far more than he should have. He still has that gentle nature about him, though. Which is good, because I think he is going to need it if he ever hopes to succeed at getting those demons running through his brothers brain module out.
I got faith in them though, they're as strong as they are inseparable. They'll get through this like they did every other thing they faced,
together.
[Pulled from the personal Datatracks of Ironhide, Chief of Autobot Security]
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