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Kantai Collection - Fanfic Idea and Recs

And then there's Harry and the Shipgirls. Possibly the only fanfiction where Harry Potter can romance a kitsune, destroyers, a battleship, a carrier, and a submarine flotilla, and nobody bats an eye.
 
Belated Battleships by JMPer is great as well, although I fell out of touch with it after getting diabetes from its fluffy moments. First several chapters do a real good job of getting you pumped up.
 
karnivallo said:
Belated Battleships by JMPer is great as well, although I fell out of touch with it after getting diabetes from its fluffy moments. First several chapters do a real good job of getting you pumped up.
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It's a good story, but theJMPer has this extremely strange hatred of aircraft carriers - to the point where USS Saratoga, a *very* famous carrier, is only permitted to appear as a battlecruiser. It's obviously author fiat driving the story at that point, rather than any internal logic (admittedly, she was originally planned as a BC, but she's far, far better known as a carrier).
 
EightDeer said:
It's a good story, but theJMPer has this extremely strange hatred of aircraft carriers - to the point where USS Saratoga, a *very* famous carrier, is only permitted to appear as a battlecruiser. It's obviously author fiat driving the story at that point, rather than any internal logic (admittedly, she was originally planned as a BC, but she's far, far better known as a carrier).
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...That's partly why I hesitate to read that one. I like carriers...
 
unfortunately Carrier also mean Battle ship go down the toilet like sword when gun get mass produce

and he writing about Battle Ship with all the pew pew gun

if he add Carrier, he can't do all that big gun macho thing he like
 
EightDeer said:
It's a good story, but theJMPer has this extremely strange hatred of aircraft carriers - to the point where USS Saratoga, a *very* famous carrier, is only permitted to appear as a battlecruiser. It's obviously author fiat driving the story at that point, rather than any internal logic (admittedly, she was originally planned as a BC, but she's far, far better known as a carrier).
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Not only that, he's rabidly anti-communist and it shows. Japan has suffered, China on the other hand lost ~1/3rd of its population. If one goes in there, be aware that bad implications and gratuitous Nazis await.
 
Z000 said:
unfortunately Carrier also mean Battle ship go down the toilet like sword when gun get mass produce

and he writing about Battle Ship with all the pew pew gun

if he add Carrier, he can't do all that big gun macho thing he like
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Oh yes you can, there are many reasons why you can use battleships in a story with carriers.

If carriers of this era were that good then none of the battleships will have lasted past 1950.

It just lazy writing to exclude something cause it is similarly more powerful when said thing has many, many hard limits on it that the other doesn't have.
 
Huh, looks like I stepped on a landmine. Sorry about that. ^^ Still, I'd say the mood building in the first chapters are pretty damn good, so it's worth a read. //shrug

Also seconding Burning Baron's rec of New Ironsides. Kinda like AU Kongou getting to go on a global tour, lol, and it'll get one into history if they aren't already. I like to imagine the scenes illustrated by Enami Katsuro a la Baccano!!.
 
Eh, he even admitted that the whole reason why he keeps Fleet Carriers out is because he feels that it would overshadow Battleships. He also won't have Yamato show up because she would overshadow New Jersey as well as Musashi.
Shaithan said:
Not only that, he's rabidly anti-communist and it shows. Japan has suffered, China on the other hand lost ~1/3rd of its population. If one goes in there, be aware that bad implications and gratuitous Nazis await.
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Oh God, the recent chapters what with Abyssal forces literally appearing out of fucking nowhere in the surf (because landing craft would not work), satellite recon not working as it only shows pre-war stuff regarding places where the Abyssals are basing, and Abyssal!Tirpitz transforming Hawaii into fucking tundra with massive icebergs.
 
DarthGamer said:
So I'm in the mood for some Kancolle fics, what are the big name fics?
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The two I'm going to mention are:

Kant-o-cell Quest: A quest run on 4chan (I've linked to the archive thread on SB), this is one of the first "big" stories and so it has a huge influence on the fandom (and fanon) because of that. Note that the story itself is quite polarizing, especially as it got longer and the randomness of being in quest format means the plot threads are all over the place and the author kept ramping the craziness up. Having said that, it is still one of the best stories for how modern military can work in a world with Kanmusu, even if the non-sortie/on-base stuff was starting to turn me off as the quest got longer. Quest Session 20 is a flashback to when the Abyassals first appeared if you want an example of the combat to get you through the non-combat stuff at the start of the quest.

Leave her Johnny: Part of a recent wave of Kancolle SI's both here and on SB (most of which are surprisingly decent), this one gets a mention for being good and updating frequently. Also gets points for unconventional combat, torpedoes make great landmines after all.

Hope you find those interesting,

D.
 
Harry Leferts said:
Eh, he even admitted that the whole reason why he keeps Fleet Carriers out is because he feels that it would overshadow Battleships. He also won't have Yamato show up because she would overshadow New Jersey as well as Musashi.

Oh God, the recent chapters what with Abyssal forces literally appearing out of fucking nowhere in the surf (because landing craft would not work), satellite recon not working as it only shows pre-war stuff regarding places where the Abyssals are basing, and Abyssal!Tirpitz transforming Hawaii into fucking tundra with massive icebergs.
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No offense but that sounds hella dumb. I'm presuming this is an derecommendation
 
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Basically: theJMPer has admitted he writes the story to decompress and is not particularly interested in applying discipline in his writing or world-building. In other words he writes as a means of self-indulgence. This self-indulgence means that while the chapter-to-chapter writing of cute stuff mostly works, the overall plot structure and such breaks down as time goes on and more and more contrivances are required to bend the story in the direction the guy wants it to go. Harry's examples are some of the most egregious. This has also impacted the emotional resonance of any scene that tries for seriousness or the so-called 'feels'.

Read it if you wanna read mostly-connected vignettes of shipgirls being cute, skip the plot chapters 'cause they aren't leading to anywhere sensical.

The thread(s) also hosts a shitton of assorted omakes of various quality. Old Iron's stuff is legit good fluff and doesn't super need the main story for context. The others' don't know and don't care.

The threads themselves are also full pointless bullshit because apparently the self-indulgence extends to the thread moderation policy so I suggest reader mode.
 
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Zelinko said:
No offense but that sounds hella dumb. I'm presuming this is an decommendation
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The early chapters are fairly good. The quality varies widely, but it's well-enough written to be worth giving the story a shot. If you don't like the early chapters, you've lost five, ten minutes if you read decently quickly.
 
In other words, the early chapters are enjoyable, and you can drop the fic after that, losing nothing and having gained a few chapters of entertainment.
 
Just some random words to get the creative juices flowing...

The War Prize

She watched them board her. Loud and boisterous they were. Uncouth barbarians in all but name. But they were victorious. She had no more tears to shed, no words, no screaming in defiance as the American fast battleship ghosted past her.

Alone.

Her only sister dead before her. Some say by accident. Some say by treachery. In the end it mattered little. She rubbed her arms as if to wash the unclean feelings from them, as the Americans moved about her, taking what they wished, mocking her service.

And then they were gone and she was alone again.

Then one day more ships appeared and she heard them talking. Her understanding of English was broken and not well, but they were preparing her for a trip. She heard them argue. Some said she should be destroyed by the very weapon that devastated Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but others said a different fate was in store.

Her hull was repaired and made seaworthy again, and under escort by several American cruisers and destroyers, she set sail. She watched her homeland recede in the distance.
Days past as the small fleet sailed east.

Eleven days later she began to hear it.

Wailing.

Rage.

Loss.

Hate.

Familiar islands came into view. And thus she was led into the harbor to sight she was all too familiar with. Another like her stood on the water over the ruins of a ship, screaming. Black tears matching the oil slicked waters were fuel still leaked. Red eyes full of hate as she was taken under tow and brought to a solitary mooring just north of Mokunui Island.

The screaming never stopped. Yet even the screams masked other voices. Hooded eyes caught sight of two others. Oklahoma. Utah. Both wept at their fates. At their losses. They paid her no need as they mourned. Only the martyr stared at her as she screamed her hate.

She settled down and closed her eyes, and tried to close out the screams.

Days past. Months stretched to years. Her hand stroked the rusting metal, the flaking paint of her hull. There was no last battle or final service, just the endless march of time that threatened to do what the American Navy could not. There were no crew, no visitors, nothing but solitude. She closed her eyes.

Then.

Sounds. People.

She raised a weary head to see. They were American Sailors. But these were different. They were…cleaning her decks. She glanced around. Where the Martyr wailed there was silence. A massive arch over her grave where she could see many people there. She turned back to the young men on her deck, her mind going back to her youth, when young men learned their craft on her decks, to perhaps better days. Before the war.

She watched.

Her rotting decks replaced with fresh wood, the rust and corrosion of the sleep decade scoured away, and new paint, actual paint from Kure! It was strange. Her enemy, her captors, were restoring her to her former glory at the height of the war. She was changing. Becoming.

Then, they arrived.

And she wept.

Those few crew that had survived stepped foot upon her once more. Old and frail, but still carrying that inner spark of life that she saw so many years ago when each and everyone one of them were entered into her crew manifests. Then an unexpected presentation as American Officers brought forth an item she once flew proudly and mounted it in a place of honor amongst her memories. Her battle flag. They spoke of the past, and of those terrible years of war, and the lessons learned and friendships made.

She watched silently from the sidelines as her crew recounted tales and memories of the past. It was bittersweet. These old young men would soon leave her again.

There were places inside that were still not right, but her hull was intact and she wore her colors again, and those young American sailors were replaced by others, and she heard whispers that the Grand Lady herself, Mikasa, was restored to her former glory by similar hands. She wished she could talk to them, show her appreciation, but it was enough to know that they were watching over her and the others that slept here in the harbor. Maybe, soon, she too would sleep.
A ship's horn caught her attention. She looked out to see another American Battleship being towed into place. Missouri. She too would sleep here, and for a moment, she could see an old young woman standing on the bow. A signal lamp flashed from the warship, to which she replied with her own.

She yawned.

It was time.
 
Pool 13757: The Spring of Solitude, by dodomori.

After the war ends, Akagi, Nagato, Sendai, and Isokaze were the only ones left, and one by one they too passed away until Isokaze alone remains, inhabiting the abandoned base.

Not gonna lie, the page where Sendai passes away hits very hard. And the ending, damn it...

 
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baofengyu said:
Just some random words to get the creative juices flowing...

The War Prize

She watched them board her. Loud and boisterous they were. Uncouth barbarians in all but name. But they were victorious. She had no more tears to shed, no words, no screaming in defiance as the American fast battleship ghosted past her.

Alone.

Her only sister dead before her. Some say by accident. Some say by treachery. In the end it mattered little. She rubbed her arms as if to wash the unclean feelings from them, as the Americans moved about her, taking what they wished, mocking her service.

And then they were gone and she was alone again.

Then one day more ships appeared and she heard them talking. Her understanding of English was broken and not well, but they were preparing her for a trip. She heard them argue. Some said she should be destroyed by the very weapon that devastated Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but others said a different fate was in store.

Her hull was repaired and made seaworthy again, and under escort by several American cruisers and destroyers, she set sail. She watched her homeland recede in the distance.
Days past as the small fleet sailed east.

Eleven days later she began to hear it.

Wailing.

Rage.

Loss.

Hate.

Familiar islands came into view. And thus she was led into the harbor to sight she was all too familiar with. Another like her stood on the water over the ruins of a ship, screaming. Black tears matching the oil slicked waters were fuel still leaked. Red eyes full of hate as she was taken under tow and brought to a solitary mooring just north of Mokunui Island.

The screaming never stopped. Yet even the screams masked other voices. Hooded eyes caught sight of two others. Oklahoma. Utah. Both wept at their fates. At their losses. They paid her no need as they mourned. Only the martyr stared at her as she screamed her hate.

She settled down and closed her eyes, and tried to close out the screams.

Days past. Months stretched to years. Her hand stroked the rusting metal, the flaking paint of her hull. There was no last battle or final service, just the endless march of time that threatened to do what the American Navy could not. There were no crew, no visitors, nothing but solitude. She closed her eyes.

Then.

Sounds. People.

She raised a weary head to see. They were American Sailors. But these were different. They were…cleaning her decks. She glanced around. Where the Martyr wailed there was silence. A massive arch over her grave where she could see many people there. She turned back to the young men on her deck, her mind going back to her youth, when young men learned their craft on her decks, to perhaps better days. Before the war.

She watched.

Her rotting decks replaced with fresh wood, the rust and corrosion of the sleep decade scoured away, and new paint, actual paint from Kure! It was strange. Her enemy, her captors, were restoring her to her former glory at the height of the war. She was changing. Becoming.

Then, they arrived.

And she wept.

Those few crew that had survived stepped foot upon her once more. Old and frail, but still carrying that inner spark of life that she saw so many years ago when each and everyone one of them were entered into her crew manifests. Then an unexpected presentation as American Officers brought forth an item she once flew proudly and mounted it in a place of honor amongst her memories. Her battle flag. They spoke of the past, and of those terrible years of war, and the lessons learned and friendships made.

She watched silently from the sidelines as her crew recounted tales and memories of the past. It was bittersweet. These old young men would soon leave her again.

There were places inside that were still not right, but her hull was intact and she wore her colors again, and those young American sailors were replaced by others, and she heard whispers that the Grand Lady herself, Mikasa, was restored to her former glory by similar hands. She wished she could talk to them, show her appreciation, but it was enough to know that they were watching over her and the others that slept here in the harbor. Maybe, soon, she too would sleep.
A ship's horn caught her attention. She looked out to see another American Battleship being towed into place. Missouri. She too would sleep here, and for a moment, she could see an old young woman standing on the bow. A signal lamp flashed from the warship, to which she replied with her own.

She yawned.

It was time.
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What ship is this?
 
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