has anyone mentioned the fact that if fighting is its own language in wbk then nirei might know more about suo than we do now. like maybe that's why he kept fighting; because he could feel that suo was sorry. maybe nirei will wake up and all he will think about is that suo was afraid
has anyone mentioned the fact that if fighting is its own language in wbk then nirei might know more about suo than we do now. like maybe that's why he kept fighting; because he could feel that suo was sorry. maybe nirei will wake up and all he will think about is that suo was afraid
twitter is currently full of people shaming fics and it's actually frustrating me so much because. imagine you're walking through an area and you come across an interesting building. you decide to walk in completely of your own volition. and inside there is someone else. they work There but they don't work For You and actually. actually. it can't be called work at all because they're not getting paid. now imagine you don't ask for any food but that person is already making something for themselves and they decide to make some for you too. they give you the food. and then they leave.
that's it. that's the entire interaction.
you take a bite of the food. whether or not you like it is outside of anyone's control. but here's the thing: the person who made the food isn't standing over you and demanding that you finish the scraps. if you don't like the food then all you have to do is leave. maybe it's the tomatoes, the sauce, the lettuce; it doesn't matter because if you don't want it then you Don't Have To Have It. and the person who made it will never know because you are not the first person to come inside this building and you will not be the last. there is going to be someone who will come inside and take their own taste and love it so much they eat their own share and then eat the food you left behind because they want more.
and it's. it's that easy.
yeah, fanfics aren't always going to compete for the world's best prose or what-the-hell-ever. but someone still made this for themselves with so much love and they decided to SHARE IT because they think other people might want that love too. my mother never worked as a professional chef but i love the dinner she makes all the same. it doesn't have to be some intricate masterpiece. if you don't like it then you can walk out. you can hit the back button.
to call fanfic "fast-food" or boil it down to "kpop omegaverse" is to make the choice to stand up, find the person who made you a bowl of soup full of love and care and tenderness and time, and yell that it tastes awful and they need to try harder.
so yeah, it IS pretentious to try and put "real books" above fanfiction when you're doing it insultingly. sure, there are good things to be gathered from classic literature. but there are things that can be collected from fanfiction, too. the two mediums can coexist as separate forms of writing. they don't need to be compared. a fancy steak dinner might impress my taste buds but a bowl of chicken noodle soup will warm me inside and out.
people who enjoy fanfiction are finding love in the nooks and crannies they enjoy being curled up in. conversely, people who enjoy published literature are finding love in new and exciting places. neither version of finding happiness is intellectually or morally higher than the other
lcf au where krs gets sent to newborn cale henituse's body but like. only at night. and no one finds out for 18 years because krs always takes control of the body and then immediately goes to bed. even cale doesn't know until he starts "waking up" in places he doesn't remember being in and there's a weird black haired kid who SWEARS they met at the outskirts of the territory last night but cale knows for a fact that NEVER happened to him. except it did apparently
Uhhh I may have worked up the courage to post an original??
Heir to the Dragon God (Original work)
Rating: Mature (eventual explicit content)
Warnings given on relevant chapters
Initial 3 chapters will be uploaded today. After that, once per week until backlog is fully posted, from there it's just me trying my best 👍
Chapter 1 word count: 5,040
Subsequent chapters: 2k–5k
Genre: Fantasy with time travel/transmigration elements
Arryn Enderson is the son of a country Baron, the good Baron Weiss. He's brash and violent, but it was fine because he's not the heir.
[...]
Arryn Enderson was the son of the former Baron Weiss. The family was accused of illegal dealings with a rival nation and fell to ruin. Arryn learned a lot of things, things he'd rather not learn, continuing to live in some form until, abruptly, the world ended.
Riél d'Solis was born to shine, but the world had other plans.
The world creates beautiful things only to destroy them. If that’s so, then perhaps, if I destroy this terrible world, a more beautiful one will come in its stead?
The divine fires of the God of Flame's incarnate consumed the world, and reduced all to ash.
In the wreckage, when he heard the toll of a Divine Oracle, even Arryn, this bitter cynic, couldn't help but make a wish.
“…I don’t want everything to end like this.”
A second chance, and this time, he'll do it right. He'll quietly protect his family, and just send some ominous letters to powerful people...
Wait, why are you piling fortune teller skills on me? And what the hell is a "System?" Aren't you a Miracle?
—inspired by TCF, ORV, and tGED
as an asexual i am horrified to say this but as an ao3 author and reader it is my duty: i need more fics of cale getting railed. specifically by alver/alberu and over a's desk.
Breaking news! The asexuals agree that the self-sacrificing overthinker who’s deeply out of touch with his own emotions NEEDS to get railed into incoherence!
Breaking news! I am now writing a fic for this because of course i am. My beautiful mutual is right, it's for his own good! Anyway part 1 is just setting the scene so here ya go
Spoilers for part 1 KRS and White Star lore
An ordinary, lovely spring day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and as per usual, Cale and Alberu were spending it inside.
Cale, because he was finally enjoying a bit of slacking time, and decided to use it to visit his dear hyung-nim.
And Alberu, because he was the goddamn crown prince and he had work to do, which meant that the light scratches of his quill on the pages and pages of documents before him were continually interrupted by the crunching of various cookies and snacks.
After the nth crackle of a baked good made his hand twitch, Alberu sighed deeply, lifted his pen, and looked up at Cale.
The one true commander was currently laying on the couch in Alberu’s office.
He had apparently gotten bored of sprawling out in the usual way and was lying with his head toward the coffee table and his feet kicked up over the back of the couch. His eye-catching red hair was hanging down and shifted a bit whenever he reached over to take another cookie or piece of bread off the tray.
Truly, treating the place like it was his own home.
And Alberu couldn’t quite help the little part of him that felt unreasonably pleased at that. The part that downright preened at the thought of Cale, mysterious and fickle as he is, now finding Alberu’s presence comforting to the point that he actively sought it out. He shoved that part down and locked it in a box and only showed a mildly displeased frown.
Cale, of course, observant bastard that he is, didn’t miss Alberu’s change in expression.
“Is something wrong, your highness?”
Alberu’s brow twitched. Had his voice always sounded this nice? No, he was sure it didn’t. Not to him, at least. Maybe it was just because Cale was actually relaxing right now, or at least trying to. Maybe it was because the World Tree’s root had finally given Cale a hale constitution, complete with peach-toned skin that looked soft and supple. Maybe it was because something had been wrong with the way Alberu had been looking at him lately. Not as an annoyance, or a tactition, or an ally, or a friend, or a brother, or—
He caught himself staring at Cale’s legs, wrapped in leather boots, hanging carelessly over the top of the couch, and sighed sharply.
…He really had too much free time on his hands, for his thoughts to be wandering in directions they hadn’t taken since puberty.
Especially if it kept involving this bastard, of all people.
Meanwhile, Cale was thinking to himself,
Perhaps…sitting like this…is truly too disrespectful. He looks genuinely annoyed. Maybe I should sit up. It’s kind of hard to swallow upside down, anyway.
Despite thinking this, Cale made no attempt to move, and instead slowly reached for another cookie.
Seeing this, Alberu managed a short laugh and a somewhat normal response.
“Ha, this hyung was simply lamenting the fact that his precious dongsaeng came all the way to visit him, saw the work flooding his desk, and did not lift a finger to help!”
“Indeed, he didn’t.”
Alberu smiled. They both knew that helping with paperwork wasn’t Cale’s job, and that Alberu had no intention of letting Cale take care of any of it.
Cale had vowed to step in should the Hunters show their faces and threaten his family, but for anything less than that? Petty politics, broad negotiations, and administrative slop, that was all Alberu’s domain.
This window of time was a small chance to make true on his word, and let Cale be a slacker.
“Hyung doesn’t need my help for this.” Cale tossed the cookie into his mouth.
Indeed, Alberu didn’t.
Still, the casual conviction Cale spoke with nearly made Alberu’s breath catch in his throat.
Alberu briefly wondered if Cale knew how meaningful such little statements were—exactly how much trust they conveyed—before concluding that he probably didn’t. Cale was smart, but also extraordinarily dense. He had a massive blindspot for anything that involved people being influenced by him.
Indeed, Cale didn’t know.
Cale casually spoke the truth, crunched down on another cookie, and reveled in finally being able to laze about while others did all the hard work.
Cale knew that, if it were really something the crown prince needed help with, he wouldn’t be sitting here tolerating Cale munching on snacks. No, the crown prince he knew was far more likely to come over and haul Cale up by the collar of his shirt while wearing a benevolent smile.
Seeing as that hasn’t happened yet, Cale concluded that it was fine to continue laying here and taking advantage of the royal pastissier.
He didn’t miss Alberu’s small, sly grin, which let him know that he was right. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long, as Alberu let out another sigh as he picked up the next document, a letter.
Still, he didn’t call Cale over. If it wasn’t something wrong that needed fixing, then…
“…is it something annoying?”
Alberu nodded. “Another marriage proposal.”
Marriage?
Cale blinked.
I suppose…that makes sense.
Alberu was young, handsome, single, a hero, and most importantly, the wealthy heir to a powerful kingdom. Cale was no expert on romance, but even he felt that it would be stranger if Alberu were getting no offers whatsoever. Still…
Cale frowned.
…his knowledge on medieval European marriage practices was lacking (and who knows if it would even apply to this world) but he was fairly certain that, for nobility—and especially for royals—marriage was typically more of a political contract that a union of love.
So, rather than asking about something like compatibility, he instead asked, “Someone seeking to strengthen their ties to Roan?”
Alberu nodded. “It’s the Breck Kingdom this time.”
“Breck?” Cale tiled his head. “Isn’t the only other princess half your age?”
Half Alberu’s age would be barely more than 12. Cale also vaguely recalled learning, before the apocalypse, that marrying off young girls wasn’t an uncommon practice in medieval times, but surely the Breck Kingdom wasn’t trying to do that with Alberu. If they were, Alberu be writing a rejection letter as they spoke.
Beyond the matter of ethics, Alberu needed someone by his side who had the experience and wisdom to navigate the complex waters of a kingdom’s expanding influence, something a 12-year-old princess was not going to have.
Alberu nodded lightly. “Indeed, but she’s not the candidate. The matter of age is one thing, but she doesn’t have enough status to make a show of the Breck Kingdom’s sincerity. If they offered the hand of the 6th princess to a crown prince, that’s practically an insult.”
Ah, he hadn’t considered from that angle before. The politics of reputation were a truly hairy business.
“Instead,” Alberu continued, “they’re offering the 3rd prince’s hand.”
Cale blinked again.
Hm. I guess that makes sense.
The 3rd prince was unlikely to have as many duties to help support the kingdom as the 2nd prince, but still wasn’t of low status among his siblings. As for the matter of heirs, a king could always take a consort if need be. Besides, this was a fantasy world. Who knew if heirs would be a problem anyway? Choi Jung Gun’s Birth of a Hero certainly didn’t go into any details like that.
Cale had felt a bit of surprise, but that was mostly due to having not thought about such things for so long. After all, in the hellscape of the early days, the gender a person was attracted to quickly fell near the bottom of things people cared about with others. Even after society recovered a bit, what you could do mattered far more than who you were. From a certain perspective, the apocalypse had been a great equalizer.
Of course, people found ways to divide themselves and cling to old beliefs, but who would scorn the only healing-skill user in the shelter just because she had a wife?
Cale frowned.
No, there were definitely crazy bastards who would do that, even with their lives at stake.
Cale nearly sighed at an old Record, one he hadn’t called up practically since it was formed.
That idiot. He himself chose to die.
Maybe he’s been underestimating the power of religion.
That thought made a certain white-haired, green-eyed person spring to mind, and Cale got a chill as he quickly dismissed the train of thought.
To distract himself, he started rambling some nonsense. “What are they thinking? The 3rd prince? You’re the Roan Kingdom’s shining sun! A brilliant and handsome hero of endless wit and skill, whose very presence brings light to this world. They think the 3rd prince is good enough for you? It should be the 2nd prince, at least—no, the 1st!”
The more he continued on, the more Alberu’s lips twitched and his eyes glazed over with annoyance. Having done this so many times that he could now tell when Alberu was about to cut him off, Cale paused himself, then, mischievously, said something true.
“My hyung deserves only the best.”
Alberu drew a long breath, his fingers tensing on the armrests of his chair. “What about you?” He finally asked, turning his attention back to the paperwork. “Do you have any plans for marriage?”
Cale scoffed. “Who would want to marry me?”
Alberu glanced back up at him coldly and said, deadpan, “You’re the wealthy hero, Young Master Silver Shield, beloved by the gods and savior of two continents. Sure, some will find your fame and reputation intimidating and unapproachable, but I’d be shocked beyond measure if your family haven’t been beating them back with a stick.”
That was…true?
Cale was now, from a broad point of view, in a very favorable position. Just because he didn’t have any formal title, that didn’t change the fact that he was rich and even had a lot of connections. Hm.
Did he even want to marry, though? He’d never given it much thought before. After all, as Kim Rok Soo, everyone by his side either drifted away or ended up dead thanks to the lingering influence of the White Star’s curse. He’d never so much as considered such a relationship an option.
Of course, in this world, he’d been busy since practically the moment he woke up, and right now would be a bad time as well. It was quiet for the time being, but Zed had yet to deliver news of the hunt. They couldn’t let their guards down. Under such circumstances, it would be irresponsible to drag someone new into their affairs.
—What if it’s just a hypothetical?
The Glutton prodded.
Cale frowned. You just want to gossip.
The Glutton snickered and didn’t deny him.
Still, even if it was hypothetically speaking…it would still be hard.
Loving someone and getting married to them means putting that person first in your heart, right? I can’t do that.
Cale looked up at the ceiling and, eventually, replied, “I don’t think I’m able to get married.”
Alberu looked at him with shock.
“After all,” Cale continued, “to me, the kids are always going to come first.”
Alberu replied slowly. “…Cale. Children are not supposed to be competing with a lover for attention. This and that are separate things.”
“Oh.”
Alberu sighed. He knew. He knew that Cale was techinically older than him by a fair margin, but it was moments like these that made their commander feel as young and inexperienced as his appearance suggested.
Cale tilted his head again. “Even then…I think it would be difficult to find someone.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Well…” Cale grabbed another cookie as he formed a response. “…I’m just…surrounded by amazing people. Choi Han, Rosalyn, Lock, Mary, Eruhaben-nim…I think…I think my standards have been raised too much.”
He truly felt that this may be the case. Out of everyone who now lingered by his side, who wasn’t exceptional in some way? Who did he not place high in his heart?
“Everyone is too extraordinary, in all respects. And of course…”
Cale grinned.
“…they’d have to work real damn hard to top you, hyung-nim.”
Cale knew Alberu was stubborn and clever, like himself, and wouldn’t task him with meaningless things, so anything the crown prince personally asked of him naturally took a very high priority. He wasn’t sure what it would take for someone to make him change that.
Of course, things like the crown prince’s good looks, impressive backing, sly-yet-charming smile, and firm-but-gentle hands were secondary in the evaluation.
For some reason, that response made the crown prince flinch slightly, and look at him with an odd expression.
Was that the wrong thing to say?
“You…” Alberu struggled with his words for a moment. “…do you know what you look like when you say things like that?”
Cale tilted his head and blinked owlishly. “What you mean, your highness?”
The question was genuine.
Alberu closed his eyes with a scowl. “No, you don’t. Of course you don’t. Why would you know? Damnit.”
Cale was feeling very wronged for being cursed at after saying something actually nice for once, while Alberu was suffering.
Alberu had seen it, after all. He’d heard that teasing lilt in Cale’s voice, and saw that bright, genuine smile on his face, with his eyes shining but still steady and serious. Cale’s whole body had looked flush with life in that moment, his lazy posture suddenly seeming like divine inspiration for an oil painting.
Alberu dragged a hand down his face and, in that moment, made a decision.
genuinely i think the thing every writer needs most is a friend. i'm so serious. especially new writers who are terrified of creating something that might be "bad" - you NEED at least a friend or two you can show your writing to who will hype you up. because there is always going to be someone in your corner, there's always going to be someone to see the value in your work and your words even if you can't see it yourself!! i think a lot of people give up on writing because they're so afraid to share it, which is totally valid! but that's why you have to figure out who you trust to support you!! i kid you not, having someone to read your stuff and hype you up will work wonders for your confidence, and eventually you will be able to believe them when they tell you that you're doing well
I have a tendency to beat myself up whenever something I make doesn’t meet my expectations (which is always). The result is that finishing something = bad feelings: I am effectively punishing myself for having created something. The natural reaction to this punishment is an aversion to creation, meaning that my perfectionism is harming me, not only by causing me to despise what I do make and by impeding the creative process, but by attacking even my desire to create.
while i adore how much lcf content there is, the sheer amount does make it a wee bit difficult for when i'm trying to write a fic that vaguely follows the same timeline. if only i had record myself and could not only (re)read it in an hour, but also remember everything w/o fail
YOOOOO I RLY LOVED YOUR LATEST FIC WITH THE TOUCH STARVED CALE!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 I love them, your honor...
AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH small spoiler, i actually... have more planned for that fic... i don't know if i'll ever finish and post it but i wanted cale to get some real hugs so uh. be on the lookout maybe?
(also hello?? i followed you like fifteen minutes ago and then u show up in my inbox) (salaapaoo i love ur work)
He's of blank pages, worn-out leather covers and reddish rims. He is an ownerless diary, sat and deserted, pummeled beneath a pile of unwanted fellows. His pages firmly shut, dust gathered around the edge. Above, somewhere beyond the towering books and splattered parchments, mundane chatter bounced one after another.
The shelves stood tall. Kim Rok Soo could not bask under the sunlight it had dutifully guarded. Birds occasionally chirping just outside of the windows, lively, and free.
Summer. Autumn. Winter. Spring.
The season continues to come and go, and amidst all the silence Kim Rok Soo seemed to melt against the cold flooring. Humans never reach so far to his place, he, and all these books, were those of failed outcomes. Undesirable. They wait and wait and wait in compliance and awareness of the time that would give them salvation. To the spread of magical fire, kind, merciful and benevolent, disintegrate their covers, their rims, their pages.
Kim Rok Soo aged along with the cries and resignations of his friends. He welcomed more recent, momentary resident, congratulated their departure and hoped for the care their owner would give them afterwards. His reassurance had long lost its hue for older fellows who stayed and never again displayed amongst the proud and the wanted, they had all given up, despaired laughter before utter silence, he... might reach that state soon, as well.
The moment callous hands stroked his covers one morning, Kim Rok Soo wondered if it was his end. He no longer possessed a heart, yet he found himself feeling upset. This was, his life here was, meaningless until the very last moment.
"You sure with your choice, Young Lady? There's a lot of shiny books you can get."
The human coaxed, puzzled and imploring, and he knew his worth was less than a penny at the question. Kim Rok Soo do not blame the human, he understands the little girl before them should have only the best. Kim Rok Soo was not.
"Nope! This is shiny for me, this is precious."
He had dreaded the red hovering before him as fire. He had expected the warmth to burn.
A name was pared on his covers. Delicate and loving, he was held with a smile and affection.
Kim Rok Soo's name was now Shiny. He was often tucked by the pillow, often carried in determined grips whenever Jour trotted around the house. His covers opened, very slowly, very carefully, little hands fearful of levying crevasse to his pages.
He remained blank, however. She preferred to divulge him in night stories, in how her days went on as she tattled and pouted, she chose to show him what she had for breakfast. She brought him along to see if any quill could delight her little heart. If any quill could be safe enough for him. Jour wants to protect him, she declared as such with conviction he once saw withered at the hand of fate. Steps unwavering atop of pebbled street. He does not wish for her to be hurt.
"That some old fellow you got there, Young Lady." Tall, scruffy human pointed out. He leaned over the counters, customized quills revealed in all glory behind him.
"Do you mind me taking a look at what your friend might need?"
The words were kind, spoken softly, understanding and ever so patient. Jour seemed to be taken aback, eyes blinking in pleasant surprise to finally encounter a human who would not advise her to fix him. Who would not say in paltry tenderness that his pages are far too thin, far too fragile, and far too easily ripped apart. Who recommended her he is not supposed to be used, who would step up to offer a plethora of magnificent, fancy books that shout out in annoyance to his presence.
"This is Shiny. Very precious."
His name is Shiny. He is very precious.
The familiar introduction rang loud, Jour hugged him tightly to her chest, "Shiny is perfect just the way it is."
"Of course," the human affirmed in a soft chuckle, "every fellow is precious and perfect."
She writes on his page for the first time, then. In her bedroom, lighted in the orangish hue of a lantern she had sneaked over from the stable, smiles filled with joy and fondness.
Happy birthday, Mister Stranger
"Jour will always be by your side, mister."
Her words held true to their pledge. She did not abandon him in the destruction she was facing, she hugged him stubbornly as she ran and ran, her father's last outcry let the reality sink deep into his consciousness.
Kim Rok Soo had done it, again. He has done it and will continue to do so. He had been nothing but the knell of the death, he should have been unwanted, unworthy, undesired.
"Shiny is precious. It's okay, Jour have Shiny by her side."
Boop for @forgetme-eternally-blissfully @fictionalcreator @unhealthyobsessiveworm @nukudraws @cindythecyclops get the 'em angst, fresh and hot:)
and if i said that my current lcf wip contains five panic attacks.... and if i said that cale will have to deconstruct his entire sacrificial mentality to make it to the end of this fic....