#that ask which I can’t even publish lmao made me cackle
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Some of y’all: why is Alec so obsessed with Magnus in all your fics 🙄🙄
Canon Alec, so happy that Magnus agreed to go on a second date with him:
#that ask which I can’t even publish lmao made me cackle#learn the lore annie that man has been down bad since day 1#malec#my fics
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TW/CW: Ranting, use of caps/text yelling, mentions/discussions of depression, suicidal thoughts, low self-esteem, and cringe-culture, no language indicators (everything is /genuine), large chunks of text which may be hard for some to read (please lmk if anyone would like a bulleted or split up version /gen), complicated words and concepts (again, please lmk if anyone would like a version w simpler words or more explanations!! /gen!!!)
Topic: Writing, Cringe-Culture, and Freedom to Express Yourself
Not to get like, personal and serious on this silly YouTube roleplay side-blog but here’s some writing advice for you writers out there. Literally no one will notice if you put two “-ly” words in your story.
As long as you are using basic sentence variation in your story — aka complex sentence, compound sentence, simple sentence, compound sentence again, repeat in a pattern that seems to get your point across best (long sentences are best for describing situations or when a character is rambling, simple sentences are best for times that you want your words to punch the reader in the face with words alone or crush their little hearts while cackling maniacally) — nobody other than pompous gits will notice if you say “Oh, he thought, wishing desperately for something to do with his hands.” Because no one actually nitpicks stuff like that if they’re properly immersed in your story (obviously beta readers are different, they’ve been paid to look for your mistakes lol). (more below the Keep Reading. Warning!! Triggering topics/actions start right here! :] <3!!!)
And even if you DO fuck up and put a couple too many “ly” words or too many “he said/she saids?” WHO CARES. THAT IS THE POINT OF WRITING. TO IMPROVE. MAKE SHITTY SELF-INSERT FICS. WRITE FANFICTION TO PRACTICE. WRITE A REALLY BAD ORIGINAL STORY ABOUT OVERPOWERED OCS WHO YOU’VE HAD SINCE YOU WERE ELEVEN. EVERY TIME YOU WRITE YOU IMPROVE. IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING ENOUGH TO DEDICATE HOURS OF YOUR LIFE TO IT YOU DESERVE TO LOOK BACK ON IT AND SAY “I made this thing out of love. By making this I made someone happy, and that someone was me. I deserve to be proud of this, because I worked hard on it.”
NEVER regret your old shitty writing. NEVER regret your current writing. Yes, you can spend hours nitpicking every detail and every word like I used to. But you have years to figure out your writing style; years to gauge whether you like first or third or second person POV — or even something else entirely — best; years to experiment and and learn and love new and different things. You will improve, it is an inevitable, inescapable part of being human, being alive.
So please, please write whatever you want, whenever you want. Write cringe! Write badly! Write poorly planned out stories!! If it makes YOU happy, who fucking cares what some bozo using the anonymity of a faceless online profile to bash your earnest, hard work about something you care about says? Why do THEY have any right to your happiness? Your self-esteem? Do what makes you happy, even if it’s bad, or self-indulgent, or god-forbid “““cringey.””” You know what’s cringey? A grown ass adult human being who knows better making fun of someone working hard to improve a skill, or simply enjoying the freedom that writing gives. You have the gift to create. No one starts out writing like a pro. Don’t let others shame you out of expressing yourself in a healthy way that brings you joy.
This is one of the many reasons I have left several nearly untouched, original records of my fic A Small Slice of Ethereal P.I.E, which was written of the course of two years. I am PROUD of how lackluster and empty and basic the beginning of that fic is in comparison to the final chapter — I was fucking 15 years old, had undiagnosed depression and anxiety, and it was the first piece of writing I ever loved enough to finish even after two years, of course it was BAD. It was utter SHIT dude! I was coping with heavy amounts of trauma through a safe, comforting medium through a character I related to deeply. I’m alive because of that fic. It kept me going until I could get help. If writing does that for you; if you think “I don’t want to wake up tomorrow, but if I don’t, then I can’t write that fanfic/story/oneshot/daydream I’ve always wanted to/haven’t completed/dream of publishing one day” then cling to that. Use it. Whatever keeps you going til tomorrow.
Your passions, your interests, have value. I’m so sorry if anyone has made you feel that they don’t. I’m sorry if people have told you your writing isn’t good enough to keep making. Every piece you make is a gift to yourself. I guarantee there are people out there who will. Who do. Even if it’s only future you. Even if it’s only current you. Your joy, fleeting or not, is worth more than you could ever imagine.
Keep writing. For you. Not for anyone else, because you deserve to. You deserve to love something passionately. You deserve to write poorly. You deserve to love what you make anyways. This got a little out of hand, I didn't really mean to say all this, but I feel it's important to my point so whatever haha. seriously though, if anyone wants me to delve further into any of the topics discussed here, especially about sentence variation and where to use complex, compound, and simple sentences in a paragraph/scene/description or what POV to use for the type of story/scene you want to convey to your reader, I'd be literally over the moon lmao. I LOVE talking about the importance of cadence and impact, and how it basically overrides basic grammatical rules like "he said/she said" and "-ly words" and "remove every 'was' in your story." Alright, I'll stop pestering y'all now haha, both my ask box and my dms are open if you want to ask any questions about this!
#maddie talks#maddie writes#kinda vt#but like not really this was just inspired by my passion for writing cringey stories about VT characters haha#writing#writing advice#writing tips#fanfiction#original story#original fiction#original character#cringe#cringe culture#cringe culture is dead#venturiantale#taleblr#sorry people looking for like. anything related to VT today. brain empty only mental illness and writing rants#you didn't read this but I am not doing well mentally today. I don't want to think about anything anymore.#i hate having to acknowledge that i'm lonely and touch-starved. i hate having no one to talk to because we moved away from my therapist and#i wont get to even meet my new one for two weeks. i'm hurting again. i was doing better. i'm afraid my mom will start making herself out to#be the victim again. or worse. tell me that i dont really think that. last time i said i knew i was a disappointment she said that.#i want real human connection with someone i can touch. but im so fucking traumatized that im afraid of people irl#i want to go home. i thought that was our house in georgia with my dad but now that were back here im just nostalgic for a life that#could have been if we hadnt left. i feel empty. i feel alone. im so fucking scared of loving someone who doesn't love me back again.#i just want to be loved. i love my friends so dearly but i just want someone to reciprocate when i fall for them like a fucking idiot again#don't read these. please. i cant fucking think anymore. i just want to stop feeling.
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Witcher of the Night (Chapter 19) (With visuals included 😉)
THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.
UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8) (Posted earlier today, thank you very much for my thirst! Heehee!)
CHAPTER 18
WOTN MASTERLIST
Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader
Summary: Evil is evil. People and abomination may be the reason why the world can't be a better place especially in the continent.
Warnings: Blood. The 'Kikker' mentioned here ain't a real monster in the witcher. I just made it up. A bloody, thrashed reader. A maddened, feral, tired witcher. Degrading names. People being assholes. With Geralt’s visuals included but I don’t know how this is a warning?
Words: 5.6k
A/N: A story cannot consist of only glitters and rainbows. Sometimes, it's better to add darkness in it and a ton shit of angst. Heh. I’m cackling with the Geralt GIF’s I’ve included. It’s like he’s so bored and done af while talking to anyone. 😭😂😂😂 GERALT, OH GERALT. I DESERVE A KISS GERALT FROM HOW DEDICATED I AM TO YOU! Please appreciate my effort, people! LMAO 😭😂💗 ENJOY AND HAVE A NICE WEEKEND!
TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors.
Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be.(Credits to those who made the GIF’s. Some don’t have their watermarks included. I don’t remember where I’ve saved the others from)
MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!
It was at around nightfall when Geralt of Rivia has arrived at the foot of the castle's barbican, his swords lunched on his back with bags in his hand and a sour expression written on his picturesque face that screams he wasn't there for a peaceful negotiation.
He'd calmly walked along the aqueduct, his footsteps heavy and impatient as he dropped his bags on the ground, familiarizing over the enormous castle that stood before him and he couldn't help but sigh, atopic of the whole vibe that every castle has given the white wolf. He really didn't want to cross paths with the royals ever again after that show he had by helping Jaskier and he hoped that his help for you didn't include another child of surprise that can happen.
Group of cavaliers shielded the gates with their swords on their hands. Geralt kept silent with a stern purse of his lips and a tightened jaw, he heavily sighed another one and continued to be uncommunicative when one equestrian audibly nagged for what the butcher of Blaviken needed.
Geralt deliberately rolled his eyes as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, giving them a scowl in which they've didn't took it very nicely as they began to draw their swords.
The witcher has heard footfalls echoing from the castle, hasty and restive and it didn't take a second for Geralt to see the king's close friend and an advisor for the royal family emerge from the gates.
Eanraig came forth out of the port; one of Caed Myrkvid's druids and someone whom Geralt has been talking to since decades ago where he has visited Caed Dhu and having their first meeting in the black forest.
The scholar wore a brown long, surcoat as he step foot out of the gates, his white long beard and wild, unwashed gray wavy hair stopping on the tips of his shoulders. Thin lines of wrinkles crafted his face which has given him the look that he was nearly old. His grey colored eyes wholly jiggered to see the white wolf in the foot of their fortress and with an expression that simply tells him that he was pissed.
He always does look like it but the druid knew that Geralt was truly feeling that way and it wasn't just his normal face that you see everyday.
"Yield your swords this instance!"
Geralt gave him a nonchalant flicker of his eyes, opening his mouth to gruffly speak, "Eanraig." his face remained stoic, his timbre sounding utterly lackadaisical when he addressed the scholar.
Eanraig trudged his way to where he was. The soldiers immediately surrendering their weapons down as they firmly stood from side to side, watching the two acquaintances converse in a quiet and calm talk. The druid was cordial as he gave a smile, "Geralt of Rivia. They have been expecting you,"
"Hmm." the latter hummed out of nowhere, narrowing his golden amber eyes at the Elder Druid in acrimony, "---they've taken what's mine. I've been told to never step foot within the berm of eminent citadels,"
Sardonically speaking, Earnraig tilted his head to the side. The flicker in his eyes humorous and mocking, "Yet, here you are, witcher." he throatily chuckled and croaked, his voice sounding drier than usual due to being long in the tooth, "---I shall guess, you are here to save a lover?"
Geralt kept his mouth in a tight thin line, shifting his eyes away from the druid with his question unanswered by the witcher.
"What unlucky fate you have, Geralt. Your lovers always bring out the worst in you---because you don't appear to be in the greatest and friendliest condition,"
"When did I ever?" the white wolf hoarsely mumbled beneath his breath, sighing in the process of it all as he frowned, taking heed of the feeble man before him. His tone was derisive and saturnine for what caustic comment he curtly claimed, "---How are you keeping up with their scoundrel works of art?"
Eanraig smiled; though, Geralt read that it wasn't meant to say he was jovial over the regime and changes he has noticed when the world began to change. His smile was brittle and unconvincing, "I never did. Since Tybalt arrived and has been taken as the crown for our army of gallants, destitution has taken its place. Heedless for the Kaedwenians because of how the vampire is capturing women for safe keeping, greasing his own palms by selling them to anyone who will want them,"
The witcher expected that answer before even asking. He nodded back at the druid, completely austere and phlegmatic as he kept silent; not letting the scholar know what he was thinking. Eanraig lifted a hand to give Geralt a pat on his burly, armored shoulder.
"King Veduka and Queen Makeda will speak to you once we get there," pause. "---And I doubt they'll be happy to see a witcher who has rejected their favor after two years. Come,"
As that has been said, the gatekeepers unbolted the entryway; given the approval from the king's advisor as Geralt grabbed his belongings, stringing along with him as they walked the route towards where the gatehouse is. The earth toned portcullis at its full defense as he sees it from far north.
"I wouldn't be helping their beloved cursed prince when they haven't coerced me into complying, Eanraig."
The druid strolled objectively alongside Geralt, continuously discoursing in the subject about who made him adhere to the king's favors---taking one person for abduction and he was already showing himself to them with no begging included unlike staying thoroughly surreptitious in the deepest parts of Kaedwen's forest. Only one woman was needed for him to accept such.
"If only you would've seen how they saw this as an opportunity to benefit them. I know your woman doesn't belong to this world. They knew your weakness, Witcher."
Eanraig has heard him hum, lower than his usual habit of susurration and it sounded like a sound of disapproval, "The sorceress has plans for her. Tybalt has hunted down a woman who exactly looks and sounds like her. But, exactly the opposite from her characteristics. She was one of Kaedwenians sly thieves."
Savia. He suddenly remembered out of the blue as he kept tacit. She was the woman who looked exactly like you despite of having the contrary of her traits over yours. Geralt pondered over the thought, finding it difficult to decipher how there was another person like you in his universe, a doppleganger of some sort that was entirety a clone of your genetics. Maybe Savia was a doppler or his midget? No. You were teleported to their dimension with no magic nor strength to do so.
What was seriously happening in the continent?
Eanraig saw how Geralt was in deep thought for what was shared; never one to beat around the bush; he enunciated straight to the point, "The king has been convinced that she's her twin. Howbeit, I never believed it nor did Ingrith or Tybalt. It was the queen's manipulation because her double has taken one of her favorite Cobalt necklaces that was given by the king,"
"---and now, they are starving her to death. Even walloped with a stick on her back till she was bleeding and wounded,"
The sentence has given Geralt a whiplash. He ceased from walking alongside Eanraig, his stature turning rigid and immobile with his jaw clenching for what was heard. Did he heard him right?
You are being aggressed in the hands of another when he does not lay a single hand on you; being battered by humans who didn't know exactly who you are nor do they have proof that you are the person who has stolen items from the queen.
"What?"
Eanraig's fair share of talk explains why his chest felt suffocating and utterly uneasy. They were hurting you till the heart of the sorceress was content enough.
The druid continued his blabbers, heedful of Geralt's stiff stance and his sudden reclusive mood, "---Ingrith told the queen that she was somehow cursed with a fate just like you,"
It wasn't a second of waiting till Geralt hoarsely mumbled his feelings out in the open and only for the scholar to hear, "Fuck." he raved, the witcher's thick eyebrows in a tight twist. His forehead creasing with deep wrinkles for his blood to boil even faster. He turned his head to the side, his teeth tightly gritted together as he went livid.
"That doesn't sound quite nice," Eanraig shifted his attention towards the raging white wolf who was glaring at the tall castlewalls in front of them, shooting daggers after daggers with his fists tightly clenched on his sides. A predatory glaze in his glowing eyes that stood under the pale moonlight, the ferocity bouncing back as he tried to calm him down. He reached out a hand to palm Geralt's tense shoulder, giving him a pat.
"Now, now, now, Weccan. Do not let your anger control you."
"How can I?!" Geralt spat in his utmost feral tone; fierce and aggressive for thinking how you were drowning in your own blood right at this moment.
The witcher was growling beneath Eanraig's touch; his anger felt through his body as Geralt was breathing in deep slow breaths, trying to control how his mind instantly went straight into knowing who has given orders to hurt you. There was an ample amount of the fact that you could be cut off a limb over stealing something you surely have been accused of. The Druid stepped in front of him, clasping both his fingers on his shoulders to break whatever thoughts he was thinking as he stared straight into his wrath-filled eyes.
"I've already treated her wounds---But, I think it isn't enough for how she's raining on their blows. You should have just accepted the first time they've asked a favor before it even ended up this way,"
Geralt's upper lip twitched from how he was silently basking in his displeasure and rue; never wanting to open his mouth at the moment for fire might escape his mouth with how maddened he was feeling. The tight stones topping off his chest and making him more uneasy than he can ever get.
"Vesemir has taught you to never uphold the law," Eanraig added as a matter of fact, pursing his lip as he continued, the look in his eyes utterly amused for how Geralt's destiny was falling in the wrong places, but emotionally feeling as if it was right because you came along, "---but, you are here to save such love that will never overcome the law that people have been following,"
The Druid has heard him huff from the choices of his words, looking away to stare at the castlewalls, digging up holes that he had been gathering since the moment he arrived, "You are saving the love of your life,---" he paused, a smile forming on Eanraig's decrepit face; his deep wrinkles forming as his face contorted in sheer entertainment.
"---and the woman who shall make miracles come true,"
Geralt was immediately taken to the abandoned round tower; where Prince Althalos has been staying since he has been cursed---bullish that they could keep him there and away from people. The prince has not been damned as a beast just like Nivellen. The prince has been cursed as a Kikker. A harmless monster in their world that only kills his own kind as well. They were found in the caves, masking in their solidarity until the full moon comes out and their hunger will be very much triggered to find something to munch on.
When they could not find their own kind to devour, they somehow manage to eat others instead.
Geralt couldn't help but snicker to his own at that, maybe the prince was kind of harmful instead of harmless that Sorceress Ingrith might have described him, peppering her words with pleasant lines that the witcher was highly disappointed of because she sounded as if she was in favor for what was happening.
He walked along the doors in an unfettered march of his feet, humming in displeasure with a scowl twisting his features that turned into tiny smirk; noting the buffet of abundant food that was left unfinished due to reasons he didn't know about as it happened before he arrived.
The tight grimace written on his face was enough for the king to know that he has not seen you yet since the moment you've arrived. Ingrith has probably prohibited him to as she has lead him to the prince.
King Viduka sat on his chair; proud and virtuous in the middle of a long table where he was left alone. The witcher has never seen the king up until today and one thing's for sure as he noticed the pale, horrid color of his skin. Just as much as how his have been, tinted in the lightest color that can be considered as if the king has no blood to function properly like how a king should have been.
His eyes were almond shaped, but with a nebulous glow swimming in the hazel color---appearing to be like he was being cast in a deathless spell or such poison that had a long term effect.
But, Geralt mindlessly shook his worries away from the people who have given you pain. The queen has probably been giving King Viduka such concoctions that could make him submit to her on whatever she wanted---with the help of the sorceress of course.
"He needs help," he bluntly started before he was even asked to speak, raising both brows for wanting to tell the king that he also needed help for whatever Queen Makeda has been giving him. Howbeit, Geralt has shut his mouth tight and hardly tried to become forth with respect amongst the king.
The king audibly sipped on his wine, casting him a glance under the antique glass he has chugged on. His expressions incomprehensible for the white wolf because of how horrid and disheveled his beard and mustache is. Though, his response made Geralt know he was giving him a lour, "This is why you've been dragged here to serve your purpose,---" pause. "---The only thing that can get your mutations quite useful for our world besides butchering my people. I've heard you've slaughtered my men,"
Geralt's mouth formed a tight thin line from the king's bald comment, his jaw set to create a grouch that the king has expected from his kind---the lack of emotion thereof and also the bluntness that the witcher may cannot control no matter if the person in front of was highly or not.
"Because your beloved army leader has been forcing women held captive," the white wolf stated as a matter of fact, cocking his head to the side as if it was a cocky comment.
King Viduka scoffed from his sheer honesty; skipping the dillydally that most men have been giving him due to being royal, "---and what has saving people benefit to you, witcher? must I say, you have not receive coins from it, correct? or was it because of the little woman? you are killing off my kind to save yours,"
Between them both was an understanding of protection from Geralt. He stood before him with a will that he had back in the marketplace. The white haired witcher was standing inside his castle with a purpose that he surely deciphered from using you as a bait to comply.
You were too important for him that the king could feel that Geralt will be begging for more than just your safeguard.
"Your way of asking favors can be quite disappointing for a king,"
Out of the blue, he's heard metal slice through its own accord; both knights who stood beside King Viduka unraveled their weapons, pointing them at Geralt who stood with a nonchalant expression on his face, thoroughly not moved nor impressed by their reactions---perhaps, also in a shitty mood for ruining his week by kidnapping you in the comfort of his home.
"Sheathe your swords," the king commanded to the hostile cavaliers; not taking a second to drop their weapons as they were told.
Geralt continued to educate the king in his perspective and comprehension over his cursed son; remembering how his school has taught him countless of monsters he could never forget.
"Call your son 'the frog prince' or some hideous sort," his eyebrows jutted closer as he sternly explained, "---but, this work is not made by a monster for me to hunt,"
King Viduka couldn't help but lean away from the back of his throne, his eyes adamant that he was not serious over telling him that his son may not be assisted by the Witcher
"---He is cursed by a witch. I do not butcher people for the sake of someone else's life,"
The words that left Geralt's mouth felt like a rejection or an offense that King Viduka has never experienced from anyone else. He couldn't believe what he was hearing---he couldn't accept such abnegation over a mutant who was crude and utterly unaccepted by humanity. His highness has quickly stood from his seat, throwing his glass on the floor which has shattered but has not surprised Geralt nor have receive a jerk of his body from his sudden anger---the antagonism coming was a result of a witcher that they have tried contacting or following around for two years; begging help for the future of Kaedwen.
Yet, he came to the palace with his foot up his mouth. Straightaway, sounding like he was declining the proposal.
The king was entirely disappointed by how useless he was being.
"---you are good-for-nothing! A hypocrite who says he does not kill another to save someone else's!" King Viduka has spat completely enraged, "---Yet, you have saved your tiny whore by killing mine!"
The white wolf couldn't help but clench his fists on his sides, clenching his teeth behind his closed mouth; his golden peepers glaring before the dependable king who kisses whatever Queen Makeda has been walking upon---a king who does not care for the people as long as he saves his.
Irritation was written all over Geralt's face, hearing what King Viduka has described you for what purpose you have in his life. Being nothing but a woman who could cater to his lechery when you had not been at all.
His midget was more than that. Definitely not his whore that people has been accusing you of.
Geralt's selfishness for rejecting the king's offers right on his face was like asking to be beheaded. He does not want to be involved by such ever again when he has no idea who this witch may have been. If being frank over the king was like asking to be beheaded, then a search for a witch that does not want to be found was waiting for a monster to put him into demise.
"I do not regret what the queen has done for punishing. Your tiny harlot has taken something valuable from her and corporal punishment was the answer that we all see fit---seeing that she might have sold the necklace for the sake of you wanting more coins,"
He subtly shook his head from the king's indefinite accusation, verbally fighting for your safety and for the truth that may set you free, "She is not the thief you have been accusing her about."
Yet, the king was determined of his opinions---the queen's opinions over you; seeming to be brainwashed by both women who was a shadow of his reign. One greedy sorceress and the other was his cunning beloved that no matter what other people say, he shall not believe because only his trusted people were right.
Geralt heavily sighed, seeing King Viduka shooting daggers towards him. His eyes wild and disappointed, utterly vexed for what he has heard.
"The world may say that you own two swords. One for killing humans and the other for slaughtering beasts," he deadpanned, bane spitting out of his mouth as he sharply stared at Geralt who sighed for his resoluted perception.
"---but, I doubt you do not know the differences of each as of now,"
After minutes of his silence, Geralt may have not realized that from the moment he opened his mouth, his teeth was barred, fangs overlooked by the king because of his unspoken thoughts; by not being heard by a person who had his mind closed for whatever he has to say and so, the butcher of Blaviken breathed a few heavy sighs, promptly shutting his eyes closed before he spoke through gritted teeth.
"Let me see her. I need...to see her, your highness."
He was stunned to hear himself plead before a disagreeable human. A selfish entitled man who knew nothing how to raise a kingdom. The rebellious son of the previous king has been forced into this madness and manipulation from everyone that he does not see.
The latter waited for any oracular answer. They've shared stares and huffs of breath before Geralt shook his head, turning on his heel to leave immediately because he knew that his request for seeing you will never be given. Might search for you instead, he silently thought to himself with a tight scowl on his face.
"Bring her in,"
He stopped short from hearing the king's words. Ceasing himself in the midst of marching off, his back towards the king when it has not taken the horsemen a minute to drag you to where he was.
Dragging was the correct term for your feeble, shaky demurrals out of the door. Your voice echoing from a far distance and Geralt couldn't help but shot a glance over the locked wooden doors, his amber eyes turning wider as your voice became clearer when each second passed by, hinting your status that you were not feeling well by the breathless, hoarse begging you've managed to beseech.
The doors opened to release two vulnerable knights wearing their commoner clothing and a small, fragile woman who was mistreated from her limbs; dragging you by your battered arms. Patches of blue and mauve painted your skin as if they were trying to beat you to death, a law back in the historical era where it was used for criminals or sinners to speak the truth or punished for their faults.
Your other cheek was swollen, vermillion owning a cut as if somebody has slapped you---also dehydrated from starving you for a day and a half, receiving no liquid to drink or anything besides their endless wallops.
The witcher was beyond shocked to even comprehend what he was seeing, his breath stopping from the moment he has seen you enter the room; utterly downtrodden, helpless and wounded.
"S-Stop...I-I don't...I don't need any more beating. I told you, I don't have your necklace. This amulet I have is mine. I didn't steal anything. Please---please tell me Geralt's here," King Viduka has gestured towards the horsemen; bringing up a finger to tell that they should show the witcher what you looked like to be hit in endless battering and how they've treated you before he even came around.
The knights tightened their hold against a mahogany, wooden stick. Hard enough to fracture your bones if it was given more power; but, Geralt knew what they were ordered to do before they can even move and he was quick enough to march towards where they were; graving and in distraught for what he felt. His chest suffocating and tight---anguished to see and desperate to keep you close in his arms.
He rushed to where you were hunched down and bleeding to death, shielding you from their assaults as the witcher draw out his metal sword from his back, angling the newly sharpened blade on one of the knight's jugular; golden eyes burning with betrayal and desolation for what they have done, for what power do people with royal blood have to hurt his person this way. They've treated you like a rag doll or a monster for making you bleed and even plan to starve you to death.
Their actions has made Geralt's blood boil in extremity.
"Do not dare---," he breathed fire, fuming as he warned. His words said with a fiery emphasis, "---touch or lay your hands on her,"
The smaller knight whom Geralt has pointed his sword upon growled in the back of his throat, a signal which has made him aim the tip of his sword against the vulnerable part---unbending and purposive for what he wanted them to apprehend that he was not flippant for unsheathing his steel sword.
"---people who knew better of my kind are heedful that I will not bat an eye to slit down your throats with my weapon,"
Geralt has heard you call out for him in a sapless shake of your voice and the simple acknowledgement has taken his attention away from the royal guards as he slightly turned his head behind---seeing you lay on the cold hard ground that made his mouth twitch, teeth barred and gritted and he couldn't help but emit a rough huff of his breath; sounding like a growl of his frustrations for letting this happen to his family.
King Viduka spoke in command, hiding the smile beneath his unkempt beard.
"Lay down your sword, Witcher. I do not plan to create bloodshed over the mutant who will help my son,"
Geralt avoided looking into their eyes and set his focus on the battered woman behind him who was coughing out her pain. You've used all your strength to pull yourself from the floors, your vision blurry and unclear for the tears you've shed all night, finding it hard to register that your witcher was finally within your reach. You thought it was all in the sense of hallucination until he'd hastily whispered the endearment that he had for you---the nickname you've hated prior of meeting him the first time, yet ending up missing the word when he doesn't use it for you.
His appearance was making your heart cry and eventually, you did after realizing a bunch of sobs escaping your lips when he has hauled you up in his arms; crouching before you and pulling your beaten body to his, aware from the pained whimper that followed suit and he was suddenly aware of using such strength with you---immediately turning gentle from your response.
"Midget?"
"G...Geralt? you're here..." you hiccuped from the cries, feeling the sting from the salt of your tears. Lately discovering the numb, sore feeling on your left eye and Geralt has eyed it with such animosity because it was a swollen wound.
Your vision turned clear after a languid blink of your eyes, welcoming his warmth that you've missed after being hurt by people who surrounded you who'd done it by physically doing so. The information you have gathered from the four corners of the cell you were in repeatedly replaying inside your mind; not bothering to forget to tell it to him besides your other secret that you ought not to tell yet.
"Don't...Don't find the witch..I-I've heard from the person with me---he's an elf. He said that this witch can never be found---it may be just a trap or an endless hunt for you,"
The latter was stone-deaf from your wounded image; his golden eyes large as if he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Geralt didn't acknowledged your message and continued to state his own instead.
"They've hurt you."
He uttered in disbelief, intently examining your face near his. Your fingers were shaky as you reached up to touch his face. But, Geralt has beat you to it and grabbed yours instead, subtly shaking his head to silently tell you not to move for the pain it can cost. His rough hand was warm and comforting, giving solace in the midst of how being cold you were treated by their world. The only thing that was warm is Geralt and his family.
They were the only thing benevolent compared to their outskirts.
"They don't believe me. I--I never stole the queen's necklace. I--I have never left your home,"
"I know you didn't." Geralt gruffly muttered with a cordial, soft tone that made you sob more than ever---how nice it felt to have someone who actually believed you was like hopping in the shower after a summery day; refreshing to be hearing another person to fight for your truth rather than being forced to tell lies.
"You'll never get to find the witch, Geralt. Y-You'll never get to lift the curse because...because---"
The stammers you've emitted, how crucial it was to feel you in pain---finding ache in his chest from the moment he'd seen you in that status; painted like a rainbow shown after a heavy rain but drafted to show the suffering you've experienced in the castles of Kaedwen. His glowing golden eyes turned a shade darker, filling with sudden torment and affliction as you laid in his arms.
You've slightly turned your head, nuzzling to be shielded by Geralt's armored, hirsute chest that made you sigh after hours of trying to sleep on stones, finding home just by staying close to the white wolf.
"Your highness," Geralt abruptly spoke, making you shut your eyes open to hear what he needed to say. Based on how he set his mouth in a tight, straight line. Your witcher was setting down his bargains and favors that he certainly does not do for people of royal.
"I will seek for your witch," he stated with determination, his back towards the king; not taking the risk to let him see the ire pooling in his eyes as he continued.
"---in exchange for your people not to touch mine and if your sorceress, precious vampire or horsemen lay a single hand on her again, I will never hesitate to kill the witch and let your son die with his curse forever,"
Perturbed by his sudden declaration; stubborn to even listen for what he was about to expect by searching apparitions of a witch out in the woods. You've desperately called out his name in endless croaks, hopelessly pulling at his armor yet Geralt was having rigid opinions especially having you wounded in his arms.
"Cease her punishment. I will not save yours if I know that you are punishing my..."
Golden eyes keenly landed on yours, thoroughly protecting you in his sinewy limbs before he seriously and firmly declared another that has made your breath hitch for what he has said.
"---my betrothed,"
King Viduka briskly nodded for his request; badly in need of his aid for his son to live. There was an understanding that he will still keep you within the castle unless Geralt brings him the witch and reverse the curse. He'd kept his eyes on the witcher's back, sitting back on his throne with a smile on his face.
"You have my word, Geralt of Rivia."
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Ajin ch 86 thoughts
Okay, it’s been a little bit! Thoughts and spoilers under the cut! (Warning, this is very long)
Writing this in a word doc because a) I don’t want to risk going on tumblr and b) I don’t want to risk the post getting deleted in the middle [note from the end: this ended up being four pages long in a Word document, so I’m sorry]
Ahhhh, last time buying the digital magazine >< Until... if... Sakurai starts publishing something new...
It seems kind of unfair not to have Ajin be the cover feature if it’s ending DX I guess they’re just starting with a new series, though. Is that how that works? (It has a main character with white hair so I might be interested...) It’s at the beginning of the mag.
Okay, yeah, pages 111-175. Aggghhhh I’ve always put off reading the end of series, but I think this is the first one I’ve been up to date with when it actually ended. Promised Neverland was close.
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
ooh completely new characters...?????? whoops overshot the starting page by a few ughhhh it’s definitely the last one... I mean we knew that, but still..... OMG NO IT’S IZUMI AND TANAKA ISN’T IT?? jeez woah I can’t wait to hear other readers’ reactions [edit: yes this was about clover, and she recorded her reaction, which was beautiful ;u;] also omg they’re at least appearing together
omg Sakurai’s author’s note: “It’s very cold, isn’t it. Everyone, I hope you don’t catch a cold.” YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT’S ENDING?
okay, so at least some time skip Tanaka: New identity, who dis Ooh, Izumi called Tanaka “anta” – the rude/familiar version of ‘you’, rather than the polite one. Honestly I don’t remember but it’s probably what she called him previously. And then turns around and called him anata the next page X’D Okay, I’m glad that not being consistent is okay in Japanese, I always worry/wonder about that ooooh so Tanaka doesn’t have a new identity YET. I wonder how long it’s been?? omg Tosaki prepared it?? Was he thinking that far ahead? Or is he not dead.... ??? okay so he made it ahead of time oh, and Izumi was the one who asked him for it??? Oh wow, Izumi has yet another change of identity. I wonder if she’s back to (omggg I forget D: her original name... Tainaka [hah]) Also another great shot emphasizing their height difference X’) lmaoooo I always love when there manages to be some humor oh, they’re only about three years apart! I wonder if that helps pin down the timeline at all??
Aw, Izumi still respects Tosaki lmao “I’m going home.” “You really have places to be?” Oh I guess that wasn’t quite it- she really was wondering if he was had a living location... so he has been kinda on the run >< [Sakurai. Sakurai, happy ending. There is, right? Right?]
Oh dude I really didn’t think we’d get any resolution on that ship and like, idk if this counts as resolution but it sure looks like it does right now okay I’m really sorry but part of me is like ///we’re using so many of the remaining pages on this/// although oh I guess it’s only been 10 pages... it feels like so many since the chapters have been so short lately...
heyyyyy I mean we kinda knew the U.S. ajin would be back or else what was the point of introducing them Ogura not being dead at the end of the series is extremely impressive (also hopefully Kai :prayer hands: as in I think he survived) so Ogura didn’t tell them he was coming back huh ... with the crew??? :eyes emoji: lmao AND they thought he was dead, I’m cackling oh okay so they had heard he wasn’t dead the close up of Jim’s face reminds of Kai somehow I guess this manga isn’t so long (and the U.S. ajin left enough of an impression) that at least we’re not like WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE “I’ll kill you!!” “Go ahead!!” HA Winnn I think the people in this series need to get their idea of ‘fun’ checked I don’t really understand what he says in the bubble after that... I’ll have to check the English did he like, metaphorically die because he’s out of FKs? I’m not up on my cigarette brands enough to know if that’s an FK or not... I think it’s what the brand turned into...? oh no what’s this omg is it gonna be Kai? Are they all gonna be in there? Kotobuki?? also this is already super sad that not everyone got out of jail free... unless they did and I’ll see... but also it’s realistic so all for the best I guess? i have no idea OH HA I thought it was the juvenile detention center but it’s Takahashi ! o_o not entirely sure I understand what Takahashi says to the guard either at least everyone’s having... fun??? KAI KAI KAI gahhhh this looks exactly like how ch 69 started and agh they’re both in juvie but ahhhhh they’re together?? I’m already scared to read and actually find out –o- oh wait they have dates to get out! and they said plural ‘we’ “That was fast” I feel like that panel represents what this chapter means to me somehow lmao they just want them to be not their problem anymore... that really wraps it up nicely, hilariously, and realistically I’m glad I’m not translating this because there are really a couple lines where I don’t completely understand them “something happened that day” um, yeah WOW I did NOT think we were going to get an answer to whether Kai was an ajin now or not, but I feel like that definitively answers that question????? also that’s terribly funny HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW KEI REVIVED HIM?? -punches a wall- Kai’s whole personality is ‘I don’t really remember that happening’ >_____________________________> Kei... gave Kai a reason to live... because he almost died...? I still kinda have faith in this wrapping up well but GOD Kai is not a character to invest all your emotion into, laughs cryingly Kotobuki: “You literally never make any sense, man.” oh no “ano natsu” GAH
I just realized that this almost certainly means Kai and Kou never met. There isn’t enough keysmashing in the world to express my desire to throw my laptop at a wall right now
In no way shape or form did I ever expect to get closure on Akiyama, even on him getting out of the barrel
Manabe definitely stole whatever it is he’s holding but it was probably some kind of personal effects...? [my powers of prediction suck most of the time] he really looks beat up now ;u; Izukyū-Shimoda... Win, that’s not where you traveled, is it? Maybe I saw it on the Sunday NHK travel program... but it’s also the end of the train line and has ferries going out into the ocean islands. Is he getting away, or going home.......? or to Hirasawa or something...?
well that was an extremely abrupt shift are they really shooting Satou up into space they’re not using him as a test subject are they that sounds like an even more awful idea than I ever could have come up with okay... oh jeez can we please please not have Satou be Captain America you just KNOW he’s going to make trouble again, ,, , , ,!!
oh jeez Eriko! I didn’t expect to see her but it’s nice! it’s really sinking in that that’s all the closure we’re going to get on Kai isn’t it Eriko tsundere as if that needed confirmed okay cool, so she’s out of the hospital (for now)
It does seem appropriate? Likely? That Kei didn’t go home. WE BETTER SEE KOU THIS CHAPTER oh, it’s fall (or winter? Izumi said it was cold...) oh phew
Sakurai said RIP KeiKai shippers I guess.... but they still influenced each other so that’s still shippable even though they’re not together? sigh not everything is so straightforward and I guess it’s good it reflects that
Kei looks happy enough was Kei working a blue collar job with Kou or something? That’s 100% unexpected Kou adorable omg what is his new name gonna be Also ;-; so they’ve giving ajin rights but everyone’s still staying undercover...? or Kou isn’t I guess, that’s sweet oh wow we admit Tosaki’s great I guess last chapter’s statement that they found his remains must have settled whether he’s alive or not ‘iroiro atta na’ YOU THINK also pretty sure that’s Kai’s line from the drama CD what’s with that Kei face??? OMG PERF also that is scarily close to what I wrote in a fic, but also pretty much to be expected crap I guess at least Tanaka and Izumi are with each other? KAI’S MOON JACKET WITH THE SMILIE we really messed up characterizing Kai as the sun haha he’s out he’s out he’s out is he going to meet someone literally zooming out on everyone (like at the end of last chapter too) is kinda messing with me Like they’re still around and doing stuff but we aren’t (don’t get to) watch them anymore Kou saying ‘let’s all meet again’... my heart is warm ;0; LMAO
we can at least rest assured that everyone stayed in character
I can’t I can’t I can’t [note, this was when I thought Kei saying ‘nah’ was the last page]
O MM FRICKING GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
omg Sakurai you’ve done it again bwahahaah a coworker hit him and is like ‘oh cool fine nevermind’ this is WAY more hilarious than I was expecting for this chapter How do I always forget that Ajin has so much comedy not remembering what page number the chapter ends on is nice
Tankobon releases May 7th in Japan Elizaaaaaa Kei’s got a Shion coat
alright uh well I guess that’s good, in a way, we still get to imagine whatever we want
Finishing it hasn’t sunk in yet, I’ve have to get back to you on that one.
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headcanons for the gang if they actually made it to Tahiti and lived happily ever after (without Micah lmao)? I Love your headcanons so much!
Oh my god, isn’t this just the dream? Just imagine the Van der Linde Mango Farm becoming a reality! Fruit as juicy as Dutch’s bottom 👀
The Gang in Tahiti - HC’s
Dutch, of course, would immediately get to work setting up his mango business. Within days, he’s made friends with every prominent land owner on the island. He recruits Hosea and Strauss as his business partners - Hosea for his cool head, Strauss for his aptitude for numbers.
But when he’s not working on his plans, Dutch spends most of his time alone. He wanders the many beaches of Tahiti, venturing into the mountains, the towns, the forests. He takes it all in, breathing in the warm sea salt air. He looks ten years younger, covered in a glossy tan.
Sometimes he’ll catch himself mumbling “we made it” out loud, smiling at the blue waters.
Arthur also spends a lot of time by himself, immersed by how one place can be so beautiful. He purchases a brand new sketchbook and fills it with intensely detailed drawings of the weird and wonderful animals he sees.
He, John, Bill, Charles, Lenny and Javier are the muscle men of the mango farm, spending the long hot days picking fruit and hauling crates. But it’s a different labour to what they’re used to - they joke around, taking regular breaks to soak up the sun and jump in the stream to cool down. Javier sings cheerful songs, making eye-contact with the local girls as he strips off his shirt in the afternoon heat.
John decides he really ought to force himself to learn to swim. Arthur, Dutch and Hosea spend days trying to entice him into the warm, turquoise ocean, but he can’t seem to do it.
It’s Abigail who finally manages to snap him out of it. She’s treading water herself, when she suddenly starts screaming for help. “John! Help me! I think…I think there’s a shark!”
Before he has time to feel scared, John has leapt head-first into the water and is swimming furiously, if sloppily, to her rescue. It’s only when he gets close enough to see that she’s laughing that he realised he’s been tricked.
Panic setting in, he starts gasping for air, but Abigail wraps her arms around him, keeping him afloat. He glares at her. “Why did ya have to go and make me look like a fool?”
“You may be a fool, but at least you’re a floatin’ one.” she cackles, kissing him hard before he can retaliate.
The next week, John is teaching little Jack to swim too.
Jack likes to help out his father and the others on the farm. He dashes up and down the fields, delivering messages and eating his fair share of fresh fruit, mango juice dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt.
Sadie puts her skills to good use on the farm, but ends up becoming involved with crime prevention on the island. She isn’t quite a bounty hunter, but if she gets wind of any unsavoury folk around she’ll pay them a casual visit. The rest of her time is spent swimming with Jack, who adores her.
Sean, of course, has no hope of getting a tan like Dutch. He’s constantly scarlet, mostly because he refuses to stay in the shade. The Tahitians are fascinated by his red hair.
He and Karen spend their days lounging on the beach when they’re not working at the farm. Karen rolls her bloomers up to her thighs, her toes digging into the sand. The pair spend most nights on the beach too, for obvious reasons.
If you don’t think that Sean occasionally recycles discarded coconut shells, shoves them down his shirt to create makeshift breasts and dances around the farm, then you’re a fool.
Molly and Mary-Beth build a somewhat unexpected friendship after discovering a shared love of poetry and writing on the voyage over. They plan lots of walking expeditions together to get inspiration for their stories, staggering through the forests, holding hands to help each over the foliage. They end up creating a full walking guide of Tahiti as well as a poetry compilation, which they send via Trelawny to a handful of publishers back in the US.
Susan and Tilly put their differences aside and, as you might expect, end up running pretty much everything on the mango farm. Tilly ends up marrying a local teacher, their wedding taking place on the beach nearest to the farm. Sean insists on serving the drink he “invented” - mango juice, coconut milk and whiskey. It’s goddamn awful, but no one has the heart to tell him.
Kieran is fascinated by the local wildlife and, with the help of some kind locals, sets off to learn as much as he can about caring for them. If he sees anything in trouble - turtles, parrots, even washed up jellyfish, he can’t simply walk away. He becomes an unofficial veterinarian.
Swanson, upon much reflection, decides to stop drinking. It’s a difficult road, full of sleepless nights and exhausting days. He and Strauss become close friends and confidants, discussing their books and running errands in the town together. Swanson officiated Tilly’s wedding - still to this day his most treasured memory.
Pearson has never encountered so many extraordinary ingredients for his cooking. He meets a recently arrived French lady in one of the larger towns, who offers to show him how to cook up all the new vegetables and which spices go well with the local cuisines. He finds her accent charming, and before he knows it he’s asking her to dinner. They live in a townhouse with an ocean view which they convert into a guesthouse, spending their days in the small kitchen cooking wonderful meals for their residents - usually the cheekier members of the gang who need a break from mangoes.
Uncle, of course, cannot work due to his condition. But he’s considerably softer and more content, sitting in a rocking chair looking over the farm. The final years of his life are sun-kissed and calm, surrounded by those who he can safely call family.
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Zenith: Prologue - Chapter 1
This is the old snark I did of the first preview chapters that were released before the complete book, updated with new notes from me where I discuss some of the changes in the final product. The notes will be in bold.
The actual story will continue after chapter 12, which previously was chapter 9.
Let’s see what Shinsay has cooked up for us, shall we?
Prologue
This part is actually called “Cell 377″ but you can’t fool me, Shinsay, I know it’s a prologue.
The updated version has inexplicably changed the cell number from 377 to 306.
Thirty-six days of endless darkness.
Update: This line has been changed to just “Endless darkness”, to make it more dramatic, I guess.
It surrounded Valen Cortas in cell 377, twisting and turning itself into his bones until he and the darkness had become one.
Fair warning, people: This will get about as edgy as a 12-year-old’s Sonic OC on DeviantArt.
And keep in mind that one of the writers (or the only writer, if this was ghostwritten and Sasha didn’t actually touch the script itself), is an actual published author. This doesn’t say much, considering the garbage that gets published nowadays, but I just wanted to point this out.
I have several issues with the opening sentences already (mostly the overuse of “the darkness,” the level of melodrama, and the general wtf-ness), but I don’t want to be here for a billion days, so let’s just move on.
Valen Cortas is chilling around all sad and lonely in the daaahkness of his lonely daaahk cell.
I am Valen Cortas. He rolled the words over and over in his mind. It was the only thing that kept him going, and it leashed a sharp coil of courage around his veins as he added, Vengeance will be mine.
Leashed a ... sharp coil of ... courage ... around his veins ...
This reads like mad libs. Did Lindsay make the sentence structure and just let Sasha fill in the blanks with the most dramatic words she knew?
Valen had traveled all his life, leaving his home for long stretches at a time, sometimes to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. It wasn’t until here, in the darkness of cell 377 [...]
Yes, it’s very dark in cell 377 306. We get it. Very dark. Just super duper dark. The darkness? It’s in his BOOONES. That’s how dark it is. Move on please.
Update: This has been changed and there’s no longer any mention of the DAAAHK CELL, and Valen now has lived in Arcardius his whole life, as opposed to having traveled all his life.
Valen feels all angsty and sad about the fact that he used to love all of the most dramatic colors of the world, and now he can’t even remember some of them!
As each moment in this abyss passed, the colors all melted into a single shade of black.
It’s very dark in here, guys. Did you get that yet?
He shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around his thin shoulders. The pain of remembering things loved and lost had sunk its claws into him, threatening to crush his bones.
His bones are already filled with darkness, mind you, so I imagine if they get crushed, they’ll just spill out more darkness to add to the darkness.
It’ll be darkness overload. Dark darkness.
Somewhere, in the dank darkness, a scream rang out.
Or ... dank darkness. That works too.
Update: This has been changed to “dank prison.” I guess they had enough sense to change this lmao.
He rolled over, pressing his hands to his ears. “I am Valen Cortas,” he whispered, fingertips touching his cracked lips. “Vengeance will be mine.”
Do me a favor and press your hands to your ears. Now try to touch your lips without removing your hands from your head.
Our first hint that Valen might be an alien with a suspiciously human name, because how else would one explain his freakishly long fingers?
Update: This has been changed, and there’s no longer any mention of Valen’s infinite fingers.
We find out he’s somewhere called Lunamere. Is it a planet? A country? A prison? I guess we’ll find out.
The cold was endless.
Just like the darkness!
The food was enough to keep skin hanging on bones [..]
As we all know, when you starve the first thing that happens is all your skin slops off.
He had to bide his time, and hope that the godstars had not forgotten him. And so he sat, wrapped up in the cold arms of darkness.
Wait wait wait ... So you’re telling me ... It’s both COLD ...
AND DARK?????
Hmm. I hadn’t considered that.
Update: Godstars is now properly capitalized.
The last line has been changed to “And so he sat, dreaming of darkness, wrapped up in its cold arms” which makes no sense. You just said he wants to see the colors of the world, but instead he dreams of ... darkness? That’s already surrounding him and that he’s tired of? What is he, a masochist?
Chapter 1
Her nightmares were like bloodstains.
A bitch to wash off?
But Andi had decided, long ago, that the nightmares were her punishment.
She was the Bloody Baroness, after all. And if surviving meant giving up sleep, then she would bear the exhaustion.
Our main character, the Celaena ripoff, as it were, is Androma Racella. And her nickname is Andi.
Yes, really, though I must wonder why they didn’t go the whole way and just name her Andromeda instead of Androma. Was that just too cliché?
This is also false, because you will survive despite nightmares, as any living person can attest to, while lack of sleep can literally kill you. But who gives a damn about that when you can be dramatic?
And these civilizations have advanced far enough to master space travel, but some sleeping pills that knock you straight out is just too unrealistic, huh? I suppose if there was any logic, there wouldn’t be any cheap nightmare drama.
Andi is the captain of a ship named the Marauder (pff) and she’s “busy” etching another mark into one of her super cool katanas to symbolize that she’s killed yet another poor, weak fool.
Her fingertips were white as she gouged a thin tally the length of her smallest finger into one blade. Without its spirals of electricity, the sword looked like any other weapon, the tallies, any other soldier’s lucky mark. But Andi knew better.
Each line she etched into the metal was another life cut off, another heart stopped at the slice of this very blade.
I mean ... I would expect her to know the real meaning behind something she consciously does. Why does this imply that she realizes some sort of deep mystery while everyone else is a dumbass, she’s the one doing it so of course she “knows better.”
And honestly? I’m no sword expert, but what idiot carves marks into their beloved swords? Why would you purposefully damage the metal like that, just to prove how badass you are?
Whatever. I guess I’m no BLOODY BARONESS, I just don’t GET IT.
Update: Andi’s nails are now painted red, and she also wears glowing “compression cuffs” that protect the burned skin around her wrists from the Accident.
A hundred lives to cover up the pain of the very first. A hundred more to shovel away the hurt into a place that was dark and deep.
From what I know, Andi is plagued by nightmares of her first kill, and while I get that it could “mean” more to a person than the ones after, it feels stupid that she supposedly feels so bad for it that she still has nightmares, but doesn’t care about the other hundreds of people she murdered. It becomes even dumber when the book says she’s killing more to bury that first kill in her conscience.
Andi looked up from her blades as a flash of light in the sky caught her eye.
A piece of space trash, hurtling through thousands of stars.
When you think about it, aren’t we all pieces of space trash, hurtling through thousands of stars?
What’s the difference between space trash and trash in space? Is there a difference? I ask too many questions.
She had always loved the stars. But tonight, she felt as if they were watching her, waiting for her to fail. Mocking little bastards. They’d be sorely disappointed.
EVERY FUCKING SENTENCE OF THIS IS A COMEDIC MASTERPIECE.
So she enjoys looking at the stars ... but not tonight. For some reason? Because they look wrong? Somehow? What? Is this just an excuse to make Andi seem BADASS, she’s so strong she can FIGHT THE STARS???
I’m cackling.
We find out that Andi and her all-girl crew are space pirates, and they’ve recently been smuggling, and I’m 100% serious, BIODRUGS.
That’s what they’re called. BioDrugs.
Aight.
It’s a collective name, and we don’t get the name of the specific BIODRUG that they were dealing, because that would take effort and I imagine there’s not enough left after Shinsay came up with BIODRUGS.
Andi is super edgy and thinks about her latest kill, how he looked into her eyes as she pulled her blade out of him, “silent as a whisper.” Yes, really. At least Andi seems to actually kill people, which already put her above Sardines, though I won’t give any points until I see her do it.
Update: “Varillium,” the type of glass their ship is made of, is no longer capitalized and is specified to be impenetrable.
The man Andi killed is now mentioned to have “double-crossed” her and her crew, which I guess is supposed to make Andi look less like a senseless murderer?
Andi now apparently doesn’t like killing, and contemplates that every person (”even killers like her”) has a soul. Idk why this was added. Is it an attempt to make Andi more of a Woobie? You know you can’t have her both be a ruthless killer and mope about killing, Shinsay?
Some blue chick comes in and announces herself as the second in command. Yes, really.
“As Second in Command,” the figure said, her voice as smooth as the spiced rigna they drank last week, “I demand that you return to your quarters and get some sleep.”
The blue-skinned space babe is Lira, and she’s part of a race called the Adhirans, who are all funky colors, hairless, and have super vision.
Update: Lira now also has scales that glow and can heat up to dangerous degrees when she feels “extreme emotions?” Which sometimes renders her unconscious?
Lira’s sharp eyes and seeming knowledge of Andi’s whereabouts are now attributed to just her instead of her entire race, which is better if you want to impress someone with how talented your character is. If their whole race is awesome, then her being awesome isn’t quite as impressive.
There’s more info dumping about how Lira is special due to her scales, which are a type of mutation caused by a “radiation event” on a planet that her race colonized.
Lira stepped into the starlit bay and lifted a hairless brow.
[...]
Lira smirked back as she lifted her wrist to her blue lips.
I have a growing feeling that Shinsay have a thing for repeating already known information, but I don’t know where I could’ve gotten that.
Update: There’s FORESHADOWING about Andi’s dancing, which Lira suggest she should take up again to release some of her “deadly tension.”
Lira forces the rest of the crew to wake up, because if the Captain can’t sleep, nobody else should either. That’s ... a dick move, but OK.
Update: The girls now have “internal communication channels” which they activate by swiping their temples.
We’re introduced to Gilly, who’s a redhead and barely thirteen, but everyone is edgy here so she’s already killed people with her cool guns, of course.
“Why do you insist on ruining my beauty sleep?” Gilly exclaimed, in her fluid little voice.
Her ... fluid voice?
Is she gargling something? Does she need help?
The clunky-ass introductions continue as we get introduced to Breck, who’s the “head gunner,” whatever that means.
A tall, broad-shouldered girl appeared behind [Gilly], bending so as not to hit her head on the doorway as she entered.
Hey, you know you could’ve omitted “tall” if you, IN THE SAME SENTENCE, show that she’s tall, right? And you don’t need to say that she entered, we can kind of assume that since she appears in the scene and walks through a doorway.
A broad-shouldered girl appeared behind Gilly, bending so as not to hit her head on the doorway.
See? Much better already.
Gilly (How is this pronounced? Jil-ee? Gil-ee?) asks why her beauty sleep was interrupted and Breck tells her not to question anything Lira does because she can’t give reasonable answers.
Lira usually explained herself in complex riddles that no one could decipher; a smart ploy to get out of questions she would rather not answer.
1) Yes, yes! Inform that trait!
Update: This line is completely gone, though Gilly’s dumbass question remains.
2) This is all really dumb banter well and good, except they already know why Lira woke them up. Lira literally told them that if the Captain doesn’t sleep, they shouldn’t either.
3) Since Andi seems to have frequent trouble sleeping and Lira knows this well enough to know where to find her when she’s not in bed, why are they surprised?
Whatever.
We get some more exposition in the form of tepid banter, and we “find out” that Breck is super tall and big and was “pegged for arson” and on the run with a fucked-up Gilly when Andi found them two years ago. Gilly had been saved from becoming a child soldier or some shit.
Update: Breck is no longer pegged for arson and in fact, remembers nothing of her past at all, to the point where they all assume her origin, while it’s outright stated in the earlier version.
Gilly’s gun is still golden and still double-triggered, which still makes no goddamn sense, though I didn’t mention it in my original snark, so I’ll do it now: Double-barreled? A thing. Double action? A thing. Double trigger? Apparently was a thing on old SHOTGUNS. And I’m sorry but a 13-year-old child wouldn’t be carrying a golden fucking shotgun at her hip.
They mention that they don’t have much money, only 300 “Krevs,” which tells me nothing. A small “they couldn’t even fill a whole tank of fancy sci-fi space fuel for that” or similar would’ve sufficed, you know.
[Andi] stared at her blades once more before returning them to their harness. If only she could put her memories away just as easily.
Andi informs them about a new job on some standard desert planet, because apparently drug dealing isn’t very lucrative in this world.
Breck shrugged. “Any money is good money, if it brings us more food stores.” “And ammo,” Gilly said, cracking her knuckles like the soldier she was.
1) Yes, we get it, Gilly likes to shoot bang-bang-pew-pew guns.
2) I love how the girl rescued from becoming a child soldier is now called a soldier. Very top-notch stuff, there.
3) I didn’t know only soldiers cracked their knuckles.
Andi calls Lira “Lir,” because I guess that one extra letter takes too much effort, telling her to take them to Andi’s informant.
“As you wish.” Lira punched the destination coordinates for Vacilis into the Holoscreen on the dashboard, readying the ship for flight.
Andi turned in her seat. “Breck, Gilly, go to the vault and do a weapons check. Then make sure the Big Bang is fully loaded. I want you two ready, should anything go wrong.”
Why are the guns in the vault.
Why does the ship have a vault.
Where are their engineers.
Holoscreen.
Big Bang.
This is a masterpiece.
Update: “As you wish.” Lira punched the destination into the control panel’ s holoscreen. A diagram of Mirabel illuminated the room with blue light, stars floating around their heads and the little planets that made up each major system orbiting their suns. A bright line traced from their current location near an unnamed moon, too barren for habitation, to Vacilis, almost half a galaxy away.
Lira scrutinized the route, then minimized the map and readied the ship for hyperspace travel.
Andi turned in her seat. “Breck, Gilly, go to the vault and do a weapons check. Then make sure the Big Bang is fully loaded. I want you two ready in case we run into any trouble once we arrive in the Taavina System.”
Gilly skipping along behind Breck, her golden gun bobbing against her tiny frame.
This is the second mention of Gilly’s stupid golden gun. If they have to take on dangerous jobs with uncertain pay to get by, why the fuck does this brat have golden guns and why the hell does Andi have electric katanas?
I’m hoping that it’ll be explained that gold isn’t actually worth much on an intergalactic level, but I doubt that much thought was put into this.
Since space travel is so exciting, Andi falls asleep and we get an obligatory show of her super edgy nightmare.
It’s some girl dying (whose name is Kalee) and it’s all bloody and gruesome and oop, Lira wakes Andi up because they’re being chased by what I can only hope is the space po-po.
Lira curled her lip in annoyance. She tapped a blue fingertip on the Holoscreen, changing it to the rear-cam, where Andi could just see the ships soaring toward them.
REAR CAM.
Ok.
And yes, we get it. Lira is very blue. WE GET IT, WE REMEMBER, I PROMISE.
Update: She tapped a blue fingertip on the holoscreen, changing it to the rear-cam, showing Andi a faraway look at the ships soaring behind them.
Andi’s mind raced, calculating all possible scenarios for their current predicament.
Listen, I get that battle strategies in space are a thing that most people, especially people like Shinsay, probably don’t understand, but couldn’t you at least have tried showing us Andi’s thoughts? Pull something out of your ass for all I care, it doesn’t have to be right, it just has to be convincing.
Anyway, Andi’s brilliant mind comes to the conclusion that the ships tailing them must’ve been cloaked, because Lira would NEVAR let anyone get the drop on them. This raises a bunch of questions, which I'll go into in a sec.
Andi closed her eyes. Black holes ablaze, she was fiked.
This is what passes for cursing now, I guess.
Update: “Fike” has been completely removed from the book, and replaced with “screwed” in this instance. YOU DIRTY COWARDS.
“Cloaking is useless at this point,” Lira said, as she readied the gears, slamming buttons, tapping in codes. Andi felt the Marauder groan in response to Lira’s touch. “Damn their starshined tech.”
The narration just said that the Marauder doesn’t have fancy cloaking tech, but I’m guessing it does but it’s ... inferior to the cloaking tech of the space po-po? The Marauder also seems to have inferior detection tech, which raises the question of how exactly they’ve been evading the space po-po for this long (which the narration says they have) despite their clearly inferior setup, especially since (which the narration also mentions) the “Mirabel Patrol” has had their ship pegged for years.
Also, “starshined” is a bad thing, so a curse basically, which makes no sense because you’d expect most people to have a fairly positive view of the stars, but it also makes the phrase “damn starshined” redundant.
Update: “Cloaking is useless at this point,” Lira said as she readied the gears, slamming buttons, tapping in codes. “Engines are still too hot to go back into hyperspace. Damn their tech.”
“Get us out of this, and I’ll see to it that we get devices of the same caliber.”
“And bigger guns?” Lira asked, her blue eyes wide. “We’ll barely scrape by if we have to turn and fire on them. We only have one Big Bang left.”
Andi nodded. “Much bigger guns.”
Sooo is Big Bang ... a special kind of ammunition? Because then you’d just need to buy more ammo instead of upgrading the ship’s guns. Is it a one-use-only gun? That would be incredibly stupid, but that’s what this phrasing implies. Is it one of the main guns on the ship, and the other Big Bangs have been blasted off? What’s going on?
Also, how is Andi expecting to afford technology of the same caliber as the space police while they don’t have money to hire a cook and seem to be struggling getting food in the first place?
Lira says that “the stars may align” for them, which contradicts “starshined” as a curse, and they blast off into hyperspace to evade the space po-po. What was the point of all that if you could just do that in the first place? Do you want to upgrade your ship so you can kill some po-pos? Do they realize more will just show up so upgrading evasion tech is better than upgrading your guns in their particular case? If they’re smugglers, one would presume they would rather stay hidden and stealthy vs outright space battle.
Update: As previously mentioned, their engines are now “too hot” to get back into hyperspace, so now the chase makes a bit more sense.
Well, whatever.
That was the beginning of Zenith!
I suddenly feel like playing Mass Effect.
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