#puck the apprentice

[theleakypen]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Arcana (Visual Novel) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Apprentice/Asra/Julian Devorak, Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana) Characters: Apprentice (The Arcana), Asra (The Arcana), Julian Devorak Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mixed Asra's and Julian's Books, Polyamory Negotiations, Book XII: The Hanged Man (The Arcana), Nonbinary Apprentice (The Arcana), POV First Person, Kissing Summary:

“You and Julian were lovers once, weren’t you?” I ask.

“Mm,” he replies. “Once, yes. It was a different time. Why do you ask?”

“Would—” I pause. “Would you like to again?”

After the trial, the Apprentice makes a proposal to Asra and Julian.

--

Happy Halloweekend! Today's fic is a throwback to my fandom all throughout grad school: The Arcana! Please enjoy some Asra/Apprentice/Julian vibes. :3

[ideas-4-stories]

Silly fanfic idea I wanna drop here -

Everyone thinks out if the cross guild throttle, Mihawk is the only one who can cook. This is a fair assumption, but it's most definitely not true in the SLIGHTEST.

Buggy was a cabin boy and apprentice. His whole role on the Oro Jackson was to learn, and whereas Shanks took to the battle prowess with flying colors, Buggy's talents lied elsewhere. The likelihood of them both having menial chores to do, both as a "cabin boys do this" and "Oh we need to give the kids SOMETHING to do to burn energy", is very high. Buggy would bitch and moan about it, but would put genuine effort into it if only to do it better than Shanks. At some point it is discovered that Shanks could quite literally set water on fire. He is forbidden from the kitchen. Buggy is not. He can and WILL lord that over him for all time.

As a result, Buggy is the one to handle the kitchen chores - and eventually he asks questions of the cook(s) and helps out there too. He learns cooking and baking, and actually.. really enjoys it??

When time passes and he has his own crew, at first, he is the one making their meals. He teaches Mohji and Cabaji to cook some simpler dishes, and moves on from there. He enjoys it - it's Fun, Flashy, and Delicious. Plus, he is damned good at bartering, which saves him money and he does love money. This is simple math.

As the crew grows, he does get cooks on board as well. They all know that sometimes the captain will swing by, hair in a bun, bandana on, grabbing an apron, and they just wordlessly make a space for him to join.

By the time Cross Guild forms, Buggy has been a busy little bee. He hasn't had a chance to go get elbows deep in flour, meats or veggies in a very, very long time, but he's been able to slip off after nightfall to whip up some little treats when the urge hits. He misses the hustle and bustle of a kitchen sometimes, but this... this is nice, too.

Crocodile and Mihawk are surprised when one morning Buggy shows up to a meeting, sets down a plate of pastries, and gets to it. They tentatively take one and are flabbergasted by how good it is. Neither are much for sweets, just these are actually a perfect mix of buttery, warm, flakey goodness with just a pop of natural sweetness from the fruit. Crocodile makes a semi-snide comment on how "I didn't think your little carnival cooks could make anything that didn't induce tooth rotting."

Buggy doesn't even look up from the map he's using to plot a course. "Oh, I made those. The others tend to over sweeten the fruit filling, and you guys don't really like sugary stuff, so I made this batch the way Ray-san liked them. Hey, if we shift our shipment from Allena to the 17th, we may be able to mitigate a need for a second ship heading out-"

Both warlords are gaping - in their own ways, of course.

This is the first of many, many little factoids about Buggy that they learn during this business venture.

It's also the beginning of interest in him beyond a means to an end.

I would think Mihawk is the best at cooking with mostly anything, I like that Mihawk is really REALLY good at cooking. Crocodile would know how to do some because if one wants to survive, they need to know how to make sure somethings good to be eaten. Cooking is a good skill to have while surviving the world.

Definitely Shanks and Buggy has menual chorse to do around Oro Jackson. Buggy would complaint after finding out the new chores placed on them are mostly because the other crew members don’t want to do them, and yes Buggy does them with efficiency and genuine effort as Shanks stares in the corner whining about the chores as much as Buggy does. I can sees Buggy making a game out of cleaning the deck, so Shanks actaully helps him. By strappying cleaning brushes to their shoes and using mops as like hockey sticks. Buggy has a soap bar as the puck and they start playing. I would clean a deck if I could do that as well.

Peeps, I beileve Roger, Buggy, and Shanks have set water on fire before and maybe have burn down a island because they tried to cook. I doubt it’s only a Shanks thing… but I can say that it’s only 25% of the time for Buggy to burn something as Shanks is most likely 75% of the time. I beileve both cabin boys can go into the kitchen… just only with adult supervision. WHO IS NOT ROGER! It would be really cute if both tried their best wth the help of the cook(s) to make things for the crew… good thing they have iron stomachs… right?

I beileve Buggy is flashy great about making things that don’t need the stove or oven. I can see Buggy making little animals out of fruits and vegetables for fun, Roger and Shanks loves them.

Awwwwwwwwwww with Buggy helping Cabaji and Mohii how to cook and bake, I like to think Buggy met Cabaji way before becoming a pirate again. I have an idea about, I might write a story or stories about it or just write about on Tumblr… I don’t know yet. I love how whenever Buggy wants to cook or bake, the chefs on board will make room for their captain, that’s cute!

Then Buggy with bartering? Hell yeah on the fact Buggy is great at bartering with people, even when he isn’t trying. Money is a great thing to have, it’s truly simple math.

Buggy being a busy little bee even before the formation of Cross Guild, having some time since the last time he bakes or cook something. I want to make a fic about this! Thank you Anon for giving me a ask. I don’t when it will be done, but I want to think Buggy had another long stressful day and cannot sleep well. So, the Genuis Jester had a genius idea to destress by making some treats into the night. So, when in the next meeting, as Buggy comes in with apologizes for being late. Having notebooks filled with meeting ideas and things they need to discuss as well as a plate of like three-types treats.

Damn right Mihawk and Crocodile are flabbergasted by how good it it, Buggy is great with surpsing people with his hidden talents (well more like people don’t bother to ask about what Buggy can do, until he does them) Makes sense that both don’t really care, but I see Mihawk liking chocolate and candy canes (this is from a fic that stated that Mihawk likes them becuase they can be shaped into a deadly weapon) more than any other treats.

Not Crocodile making a semi-snide comment, problay wondering why the cooks can’t make treats like these and Buggy shoots back with oh becuase they didn’t make them, I did. I love both are shocked to the core for different reasons. Then having Buggy just think it’s no big deal and haven’t even looked up from the map. Still working as Crocodile and Mihawk have stop doing so from what Buggy said.

Awwwwwwwww, Buggy making treats like what Ray-San likes it. It’s so sweet and sad to me.

[jessicas-pi]

📔

Ooooh.... Here's a crack AU I made up ages ago!

So, in this AU, when Ezra was young (like... three, maybe,) there was an accident and his parents were killed. And something happened in that accident that revealed he was Force-sensitive. He was brought to Vader, and Vader sees this child—small, but VERY Force-sensitive, and born almost the exact same day Padme died—and his reaction is just, "SON?????"

So... Ezra grows up believing that Vader is his dad.

Anyway, several years pass. Ezra is about twelve now, and he gets his first mission.

It's on Mandalore.

One of the instructors there is beginning to suspect that Sabine Wren is considering treason. Ezra is sent there, disguised as a new student, to "befriend" Sabine and discover if this is true. It backfires spectacularly!

Ezra decides that Sabine is The Coolest Ever, Actually, and sticks to her like a barnacle. They run away from the Academy together (though Ezra does leave a voicemail for Vader telling him everything is OK. He just doesn't want his dad to worry!)

Ezra says he'd like to go live quietly on Lothal (he doesn't remember it's his home, but something about the name sounds Familiar and Good), but Sabine doesn't want to. She says she'll drop him off and then she'll go and be a bounty hunter, but Ezra, who REALLY doesn't want to lose his new bestie, insists that he could be her bounty hunter apprentice. He's, like, really good at being an apprentice. Honest.

Sabine kind of has it in mind that he's this pathetic kid that she needed to babysit and rescue from the Empire (she doesn't know who he really is; Ezra honestly just forgot to ever mention it), but he convinces her to give it a shot.

So, here's the thing. Ezra was raised by Darth Vader, and though he's not actively evil, Ezra's moral compass is a pinwheel and in his mind, the only reason to not do something is if either Vader or Sabine have specifically said Ezra No That's Bad.

After a lot of bad luck, they finally get a bounty puck, and set off to bring the person in. They get to the planet, and Sabine suggests they split up, because she thinks she'll catch the bounty much faster on her own.

She doesn't.

By the time she realizes she needs to follow the sound of people screaming and running, Ezra has already located, ambushed, and messily dismembered the bounty.

"Did I do good?" Ezra asks eagerly.

Sabine quickly switches mindsets from I have to keep this kid from getting himself killed to I have to keep this kid from having a villain arc.

"Um, are you okay?" Ezra asks. "You look kind of weird."

"I'm fine," Sabine says, smiling nervously. "Y'know, maybe we should just go live quietly on Lothal or something."

As it turns out, "living quietly on Lothal" is fun for about a month (which is how long it takes Sabine to paint the entire inside of the comm tower they've claimed as their headquarters, install bunk beds, dye Ezra's hair, and make mini cardboard mandalorian helmets for the two Loth-cats he brought home.) Then boredom sets in, and Sabine takes to vandalism. Ezra goes with her. He thinks it's almost as fun as bounty hunting.

Ezra also spends time exploring the Force. He's been trained in the Dark side but the peacefulness of Lothal starts to draw him towards the Light. He starts to find an equilibrium.

Sabine and Ezra have the time of their lives.

Then, one afternoon, about a year later, when Sabine and Ezra are working on an art project, Darth Vader barges into the comm tower and demands, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, young man?!"

"Aww, Dad!" Ezra whines. "You never let me do anything!"

In hindsight, Sabine thinks, that explains a lot.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three Halloween Special 2023

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

            “Why don’t you have to dress up to blend in?” grumbled (Y/N), hands on their hips.

            Mando sighed as he put Grogu down in the ship and closed the hatch. “Because these people don’t know what a Mandalorian is, and they’re having a festival where they dress up in masks and costumes. I fit in. You don’t.”

            “What I’m dressing up as, again?” asked (Y/N) as they picked up the bundled outfit.

            “Some sort of hunter spirit. That’s what the lord’s wife told me it was,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) nodded and stepped around behind a wall to change quickly while reviewing the details of the job. “What exactly is the point of our job here?”

            “We need funds, and since we have a good track record, Bo-Katan and the Armorer sent us on a job since a neighboring planet reached out,” said Mando. “There was an attempted assassination of one of their lords, so his wife hired us to hunt down the suspect. His puck tracked him to this festival.”

            “That’s a lot of area to cover,” said (Y/N). “Let’s just find him quickly.”

            “Can’t you use your Force-powers to track him down?” asked Mando, waving a hand in the way they usually did.

            (Y/N) stepped out, dressed in costume. “Yeah, that’s not really how that works. And don’t ask me how it does since I don’t really know either. I just go with whatever my gut tells me and that seems to be it.”

            Mando stared at (Y/N) in the costume. It was just a dark orange cloak slung around their shoulders, but the helmet-mask on their head was what shook Mando. It reminded him of a Mandalorian helmet, and as (Y/N) stared at him from behind the visor, he remembered just how deep their connection to Mandalore went. Mandalore the Great themself had chosen (Y/N), guided them, advised them.

            And although Mando would never force (Y/N) to permanently wear the helmet as the people of his Covert did, he had thought about them wearing more Mandalorian armor in the way Bo-Katan did, not always covering their face but clearly a member of the clan. His clan. Din (Y/N).

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet at (Y/N) looking so Mandalorian. That was his kid, ready to fight for Mandalore just as usual, closer to wearing their armor. Honestly, Mando thought they should be given armor already since they were clearly more than an apprentice, but he wouldn’t argue with the Armor. (Though, seriously, (Y/N) had wielded the Darksaber, had visions of Mandalore the Great, and defeated Moff Gideon to protect Mandalore. What more did anyone want? His kid was incredible).

            “Are we ready to go, Dad?” asked (Y/N), making sure their beskar dagger and blaster were accessible.

            Mando nodded, stopping his train of thought. (Y/N) would always be something of an anomaly, and he knew that. But they were his kid. That was the important part. “Come on. We should finish this job quickly before the assassin causes any trouble during the festivities.”

            “I could sneak up on them and grab them before they see your shiny armor coming,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “No, I take point.” Mando was still strict on that. “You’re there if he runs.”

            (Y/N) scowled beneath their helmet. “I fought Moff Gideon. Why do I have to play backup?”

            “Because you still run into danger without thinking,” said Mando matter-of-factly.

            (Y/N) shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. (Y/N)’s instincts just threw them into battle faster than their brain could think (at least, that was their interpretation of what Mando would call plain old recklessness).

l

            Mando’s visor blinked to alert him as he approached the puck tracking the would-be assassin. He wore a grey tunic and mask to blend in, but once Mando found his target, they didn’t escape his sight. That being said, he had lost sight of (Y/N). He really needed to put a tracker on his kid.

            Mando stepped out of the shadows and approached the assassin. The man turned into an alley, and Mando followed him. The moment he stepped foot into the alleyway, the assassin pivoted and drew a blaster.

            “Don’t move or I shoot,” warned the assassin. He knew he was being hunted.

            Mando really didn’t care. His beskar could take a hit, so although he dodged the first shot the assassin launched at him, he wasn’t afraid to get close. He fired a grappling dart from his gauntlet and pulled the assassin towards him, punching at the man. The assassin, however, was skilled at fighting, and the moment he was tugged towards Mando, he flicked out a dagger and cut himself loose. He evaded the attack and stabbed down at Mando’s arm, and Mando twisted to avoid it. When the assassin pivoted and effortlessly moved the blade towards the split in Mando’s armor between plates, Mando stepped back. He grabbed for his own blaster, raised it, and—

            A blur of umber orange landed on the assassin.

            The man grunted and fell to the ground before rolling away to his feet. (Y/N) was on their feet in the same instant, and when the assassin grabbed for his blaster, (Y/N) threw out a hand. It flew through the air, and in the moment the assassin stared in surprise, (Y/N) threw their dagger, and it landed in his dominant arm. He cried out at the sudden pain, and the moment of distraction was all Mando needed to grab him and punch him squarely, knocking him out. He let the assassin’s body fall to the dirt before looking at (Y/N).

            They could tell he was giving them a dad look from behind the helmet. They shrugged.

            “I let you take point. Then I decided to intervene,” they said.

            Mando sighed. (Y/N) was going to kill him with stress.

l

            (Y/N) put down the case of payment in the ship and grinned. “Bo-Katan and the Armorer will be happy.”

            “Yes,” agreed Mando, picking up Grogu and letting him pat his helmet to say hello after leaving him for the job.

            (Y/N) waved at their brother before pulling off the cloak and then the helmet of their costume. They shook their head and let their hair fall messily around them face. They grinned at him. “And I’m glad we’re back out on jobs together. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Mandalore needs the rebuilding and everything, but I don’t think I’m much cut out for the politics of it all.”

            And yet you gave Mandalore guidance when it needed it most and were chosen by one of the greatest Mandalorians of all time for…something, thought Mando. For being so bright at times, (Y/N) really didn’t seem to understand how special they were.

            “As long as you stay alive, you’ll do fine,” said Mando.

            “Death has to try harder than it has to get me,” said (Y/N), grinning and leaning into their dad.

            Mando put an arm around them and held them for a moment. “Please don’t tempt death. I don’t want to lose you.”

            (Y/N) paused and looked up at him. “You won’t lose me. We’re family, remember?”

            Mando smiled beneath his helmet. (Y/N) was a good Mandalorian now and would become an even greater one in the future. But above all of that, he liked them being his kid the most. “This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way.”

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

[dilf-din]

Suddenly

Chapter 2: Summer

Din Djarin x Florist!Reader

WC: 2850

Warnings: absolutely none, all fluff and domestic cuteness, no use of y/n but reader does have a nickname and is female presenting

A/N: I had so much fun with this one! Same as last time, this one is inspired by Venus by Sleeping at Last. Enjoy my loves 💖

Chapter 3

At first, I thought you were a constellation

I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation

You're as beautiful as endless

You're the universe I'm helpless in

Soon after your arrival in town, Din took Grogu on another long bounty hunting trip. They packed what little they could fit in the N-1 and took off, Grogu now being his official apprentice and needing to learn the tricks of the trade. You were exceptionally busy during that time. The novelty of being a new shop filled your days with Nevarran people asking you rapid fire questions only sometimes about gardening, most of them were about your personal life. You didn’t mind the nosy old ladies though, it helped you feel like you were becoming a part of their community. Still, as busy as you were, your mind wandered to Mando and Grogu every now and again, wondering if they were safe on their travels. You didn’t even know they had left, you found out from Greef Karga one day when he came to check in on you. Your feelings weren’t hurt, you had only had one conversation, it’s not like they owed you a goodbye. Still, you looked forward to seeing them stroll through your door again.

Your greenhouse had been a revolutionary addition to the markets of Nevarro. The glass dome behind your shop had been carefully designed to support plants from different planets and biomes. The local vendors buying produce from you in bulk to add to their street foods or sell whole to hungry market goers. A lot of your time was spent tending to the small indoor fields that lay in the expansive room behind your shop. You decided you would need to hire some help soon, so one particularly busy morning after your quick lunch break, you stuck a help wanted sign in the front window, hoping to attract someone unafraid of getting their hands dirty.

Summer brought longer stretches of daylight, people staying out later than they had in the spring. You didn’t mind the extra foot traffic, there was no one waiting for you at home after all besides a pile of boxes temporarily housing your life. Tonight in particular though, you were exhausted. When the sun began to disappear beyond the lava plains, you reached for a broom to sweep up the stray stems and petals littering the floor. It wasn’t until you slowed for a second that you started to feel the ache in your bones from being on your feet all day. A heavy sigh left your lips when you heard the bell to the front door tinkle.

“We’re closed for the evening,” you called.

“Sorry, we can go,” a modulated voice called back to you.

“Wait!” You came around the corner to see Mando and Grogu standing in the entranceway.

“You guys can stay, I’m just cleaning up,” you smiled. “I’m glad to see you made it back safely.”

“I always do,” he said coolly.

You leaned down to greet Grogu, “Did you learn so much from your dad?”

He squealed and babbled out a response drawing a chuckle from Mando’s lips.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, lending you a hand to pull yourself up from your squat.

“Not yet, I’ve still got to finish sweeping up and locking up the register.”

“Here,” Mando said, reaching into his beat up brown satchel to retrieve a lidded container and a hunk of bread wrapped in a white, linen napkin. “I made some soup. The kid and I ate already. I noticed you were still here when I dropped our pucks off at Karga’s office. Eat, I’ll sweep up.”

“Thank you, Mando, that’s very kind of you,” you smiled taking a seat on the stool that sat tucked behind the counter. The lid popped off of the metal container with a hiss revealing a thick stew full of earthy spices. The smell made your mouth water. You wasted no time ripping off a piece of the bread to dip into the steaming liquid.

“It’s Din. My name is Din,” he said casually.

You couldn’t help but be perplexed by the man who stood in front of you. A wall of beskar decked out in weapons tending to a little child and sweeping your floors with a pink plastic broom. You knew as well as anyone that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but still, he surprised you. The sound of the bristles across the tile floor followed by the pats of Grogu’s tiny feet shadowing his dad filled the otherwise comfortable silence. You were scraping the last bits of meat and broth out when Din emptied one final pile of leaves and dirt into the trash container.

“This is full, can I empty it for you? The dumpster is out back, right?”

“Din you don’t have to—“

“I know, I want to.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the smile playing on his lips as he spoke. When he left your shop the last time, you had looked up Mandalorian culture on your holopad before going to bed that evening. You remembered learning about them briefly in your studies, but they were a kind of traveler you didn’t see very often on Naboo. You learned of the fall of Mandalore, the different factions deducing that he must be a child of the watch who adhered to the creed. Realizing in that moment that you probably never see his face. It was a little sad to come to terms with, but you would never ask someone to contradict part of themselves to bend to what you wanted. You hoped he had people in his life that respected that part of him.

“Okay,” you said softly, “it’s out the right door of the greenhouse right through there,” you pointed.

He hefted up the heavy can with ease and disappeared through the greenhouse entrance. You took the time to finish counting down the register and slipping the money into the small safe below the counter for the evening. He returned a few minutes later, Grogu tucked into his arm.

“We took a look around, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you smiled.

“When did your interest in plants start if you don’t mind my asking?”

You smiled wistfully, “When I was a little girl, my grandmother lived in the country in a beautiful stone cottage absolutely covered in flowers, most of them taller than me. I used to read there, tried to be still so butterflies would light on me. They almost never did, but they flocked to her. Anyway, I asked her to teach me and I tended her garden with her until she passed. When she finally did, I took that as my cue to go, find my own footing somewhere.”

“I take it that was recently then?”

“Just a few months,” you smiled sadly. “Anyway, I’m done in here, I don’t mean to keep you prattling on about butterflies.”

“I don’t mind, and you’re not keeping me. I wanted to walk you home if that was okay?”

Grogu was leaning hard against Din’s chest rubbing sleep out of his eyes with his little hands.

“I don’t want to keep you,” you nodded down at the child.

Din carefully settled him into the satchel that hung at his side. He folded the cloth your bread had been wrapped in and tucked it behind his head like a little pillow.

“He’s slept through worse,” he said softly rocking back and forth to create a gentle motion. The small action wedging its way into your heart.

You grabbed the empty soup container and tucked it into your own pack before grabbing your keys.

“I’ll wash this and bring it back to the shop tomorrow.” He started to protest and you held up your hand, “You cooked, let me do dishes,” you smiled. Din nodded as if to agree in the fairness of the arrangement.

You switched the lights off and Din held the door open for you to step out first. You murmured a “thank you” while you locked the door, giving it a good tug just to be sure.

“Karga said you were staying at the inn for the time being?” his feet falling into step with yours as you rounded the corner of the square.

“Yes, until the renovations are done in the space above the shop. Still a few plumbing issues to be sorted out. It’s hard to find people who know what to do with water on a planet made of lava,” you joked.

Neither of you acknowledged the crawling pace you were walking at, enjoying the other’s company too much to think about going to your own spaces and spending another night alone. The summer air was heavy with a dry heat. The sound of your footfall on the grey stones fell away to hushed steps on a dusty path as you crossed over into the old part of town. On the side of nearly every clay structure hung an old lantern flickering with a soft orange light, as if dusk had come down and planted a gentle kiss on her way to bed. The blush of intimacy coloring the streets as the moon and stars took their place in the sky above.

“You were one of six kids?” he asked almost incredulously.

“Mmhmm, I was right in the middle too, lost in the shuffle. Did you have any siblings?”

“Kind of,” he hesitated, “My story isn’t like a lot of others.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” you reassured softly, your hand resting on his forearm for a split second. The low heat of your touch causing his heartbeat to quicken.

You reached the entrance of the inn much quicker than either of you would have hoped.

“Thank you for everything, it’s nice to feel looked after.”

“I know what it’s like to be alone,” you both allowed a beat of silence before he continued, “I’ll stop by tomorrow to pick up some plants. I want to get started on our front yard.”

You smiled, “I would be more than happy to help you with that.”

“This looks nice on you,” he said so softly you almost missed it, his hand reached up to tug one of the hanging ends of the scarf he had given you. The smell of leather hitting your nose, the back of his hand just grazing your cheek. Until this moment you had forgotten you had it on. You had been using it as a bandana to tie your hair out of your eyes while you worked.

“You have good taste,” you smiled up at the dark visor before you.

He slowly pulled his hand back and you ached for another small touch.

“Well, I’ll let you get going,” you said, deciding you had kept him long enough.

“Good night, Milla,” he said retreating back down the dimly lit path.

“Good night, Din,” you almost whispered to yourself.

The sound of his name on your lips was enough to drive him mad. He had never been one to get caught up so quickly. Usually his better judgement sat at the steering wheel reminding him that his life was not one for a partner. But things had changed. He had a stable home now, a steady income, a future. As his boots kicked up small clouds of dust on his way back to the speeder bike parked on the edge of town, he wondered where you fit into the whole picture.

Making your way into the quiet building, you bade good evening to the innkeeper. She smiled at you over a book and gave a small wave as you made your way up the steep staircase to the top floor. The door latched in place as you kicked off your shoes. You hung your bag on the back of the chair that sat at the makeshift clay desk hanging off the wall in the corner, deciding a hot shower and a cup of tea before bed would help your aching muscles relax.

Looking in the ‘fresher mirror, a smile fell on your face as you admired the scarf again. A translucent black fabric adorned with silver stars. You untied it carefully and placed it on the small shelf that sat between the mirror and the sink. You liked having a piece of him with you, carrying it through the mundanity you were subjected to while he was off on his adventures. You found yourself caught in a place of longing for stability and freedom. Something about the mandalorian made you feel like he could give you both.

Sunrise came too quickly. The ache from yesterday’s work day now replaced with a stiffness from the thin mattress you were trying (but failing) to be thankful for.

You drew the blinds to allow the pink light to filter in and turned on the single cup caf maker that had come with your room. Most of your wardrobe was packed away still so you drew from a small pile of comfortable clothes, settling on a light blue, sleeveless tunic and khaki linen overalls. The big pockets easily held your shears and gloves. You stepped in the ‘fresher to straighten out your hair and grab your new favorite accessory. Today you tied it around your neck in a simple knot.

A simple breakfast of fruit and yogurt and a to-go cup of caf would have to do today. One of your vendors was scheduled to be there before open to unload a new shipment of pots. With a carefully packed bag and a full mug, you made your way out the door and down the steps as quietly as you could. No one was even at the front desk yet this early in the morning. The walk to your shop took much less time without your conversation partner to make your steps drag. The morning air was still holding onto a chill from the sun’s absence, sending goosebumps dancing down your arms as you let yourself into the storefront. The little stool behind your counter had become a home away from home. Spread out before you was your breakfast, planner, and holopad. You had your delivery schedule pulled up and we’re cross referencing your inventory taking lazy bites of yogurt in between check marks and highlights.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you started to doze off. You awoke some time later to the sound of the bell ringing out as the door swung open. You shot up from where you had slumped over the counter and quickly wiped the sleep from your eyes.

“Dal? Is that you?”

“Nope, sorry,” you heard Din’s voice respond as your eyes adjusted to the light.

Eyes flying to the clock, you cursed under your breath. “He never showed. I could’ve slept in today.” You groaned and leaned onto the counter again.

“Rough night?”

“Rough mattress,” you grumbled before righting yourself once more. “Sorry, you’re here for flowers aren’t you.”

Grogu hopped up onto the counter and cooed at you as he reached for a leftover piece of fruit you had in your container as if to ask for permission.

“Of course buddy,” you smiled softly, rubbing his head lovingly.

“You don’t have to apologize, cyar’ika,” Din said softly.

You cocked your head, “Was that mando’a?”

Din nodded.

“It’s pretty.”

“I wanted to get some flowering shrubs to plant out front. I was hoping you had something like that?”

“We’ve got a few options,” you smiled leading him into the greenhouse leaving Grogu to keep snacking on fruit.

“Thank you again,” Din said handing you the credits in exchange for the plants and fertilizer he had purchased. “I’ve got to go ahead and get these in the ground, we’re heading out again tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to mask the disappointment your voice. “Well, these will need to be watered, I can stop by and check on them until you get back.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind. I’d hate to kill them immediately, I don’t have the greenest thumb.”

Your mouth turned up in a smile.

“Are you sure?”

He turned his head in confusion.

“Well you are his dad,” you said gesturing at Grogu.

“No. I’m not. He’s adopted,” he stammered, “But judging by your laughter I’m assuming you knew that.”

“Just a joke,” you smiled, your hand lighting on his forearm to give a small squeeze. “How long will you be gone?”

“Just a few days, Karga has a time sensitive puck but it’s only a few planets over.”

“Good, I worry when you’re gone too long. Well, you better get to digging. See you around stranger.”

He took your hand in his for just a moment, letting his gaze linger.

“See you around, cyar’ika.”

“You gonna tell me what that means?”

“Not yet,” he mounted his speeder and gave a small wave before disappearing down the grey street.

Mando’a translations

Cyar’ika: sweetheart

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

[sroop]

guided (i) - discont.

"This is my puck, so either we both go together, or you stay behind." It's her way of saying: kriff off.

Author's Note: always wondered about the Mandalorian with an apprentice and wanted to write a bit about what I think Din would try to be as a mentor. This is definitely not the most canon accurate and Grogu isn't mentioned

Summary: Bounty hunting is precarious, even more so when it becomes personal. Din is determined not to let his apprentice learn that the hard way.

next

{}{}{}{}

Reyza is a good listener. Which was inconvenient because Din was a good listener too, and that meant it was mostly just silence between the two of them.

Normally, Din enjoys the quiet. He's used to nothing but the hum of the engines, the rattling of the carbonite system, or the firm whoosh of atmosphere thrumming against the ship. Even the more talkative quarries he brings on board are quickly silenced. So it's not the quiet that unnerves him, just the fact that it's silent when someone living and breathing and certainly not encased in carbonite is within arm's reach.

Plus, Reyza's silence today seems... cool. Din has been privy to companionable silences before, even from Reyza, herself. Today, she's faraway somewhere, and he's not so sure if it was just as simple as an off day for her. He tips his helmet towards her, watching.

"We don't have to go."

"We do. We should."

Din frowns beneath his armor and glances at the navigation system. Only a few hours before they reach Corellia. From what he's gathered about Reyza, she was either born on Corellia, or spent some harrowing years on it. He's not entirely sure if she was anywhere near their destination, Coronet City, or if she had even seen it before; but he was willing to put down a hard bet that she had, judging from the begrudging determination in her voice. He sighs too quietly for the modulator to pick up.

"Run interference from the ship."

That has her snapping to attention, all the distance and distraction of the last few days crashing in the face of the present. Din can't see her face, but he can imagine she's livid.

"What?" she growls.

"Run interference from the ship. Nonnegotiable."

There's a cold pause as Reyza races to find the right words for the Mandalorian. He was treating her like she was a child, as though she hadn't saved his life on multiple occasions or survived on her own as a full-fledged assassin long before he had ever made himself known to her. And the word nonnegotiable ate at her ego and insecurities in a way she was reluctant to admit, even internally. She could take care of herself. She could take care of this bounty, even alone. Reyza ground her jaw.

"This is my puck, so either we both go together, or you stay behind." It's her way of saying: kriff off.

"I'm not staying behind, you don't have the firepower. I'm not taking you with me until you're honest about what's bothering you about this bounty. It's dangerous to be distracted," Din replies. His voice is level and Reyza resents his composure.

But he's right. She's not childish enough to deny that, and certainly not naive enough to believe that she was above the dangers of human emotion under pressure. She glances at him guiltily, feeling a little juvenile.

Maybe it was a good idea to stay on the ship and let Din handle this one himself. She wasn't exactly rearing to see the city again, or the people in it. But she also hated the idea of standing by on a mission so personal to her. Reyza was left a simple choice: confess, or stand by.

The words feel slow and heavy in her chest, crawling their way up her throat and complaining about it the whole way up. It was like vomiting, but worse.

"I wasn't born on Corellia, I know that's what Karga's file on me says. I was born somewhere else, don't know where, and I was abducted to Corellia when I was really small." She huffs through her nose and shrugs. "I was there until I escaped, and that's all. I went to Nevarro, started working for Karga-" she shrugs again, "- and you know what happens next."

Din mulls over the brief story. It contained the absolute minimum amount of information she could have given, but he knew what it was to want to forget.

"Coronet City?" he asks.

"Yeah."

He recalls briefly why he had taken Reyza on as his apprentice in the first place. It wasn't just Karga complaining that the Nevarro guild would have no reliable hunters once he decided to retire. It was the starburst sigil she wore on a silver chain around her neck.

He'd recognized it immediately as the mark of Polaris. In their heyday, before the Empire, they'd been a deadly force of assassins and spies. A network spanning galaxies, infiltrating and plucking fate strings so expertly that it was unclear where their influence started or ended. But somewhere along the way, their name faded and the work of their assassins dwindled and they became more myth than reality. Almost like the Mandalorians.

Except Din was willing to assume that the Mandalorians valued their foundlings and assets a little more dearly than whatever or whoever it was Reyza went through.

"Polaris?" he asked, a pitch quieter.

"Yeah," she answers, a beat slower.

Reyza's knees go to her face and she spends the rest of the flight curled to her right, away from Din and his pesky questions and unfortunate truths. Reyza wonders what this means. Was her answer acceptable enough for him to deem her not a threat to their mission? Was he waiting for more? Was she still stuck a passenger on her own bounty hunt? Leftover irritation scratches at the back of her neck and she bristles again. Stupid Mandalorian and his stupid, self-righteous moral high ground. She turns to glare at him.

"It's my puck," she declares again, though she's not quite sure to what end.

Din chuckles under his helmet. Gods, for someone more competent than most, she could be such a child.

{}{}{}{}

Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear feedback!

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Stabby Girls, Shakespeare, and Stagecraft, Oh My!

We have a guest bookshelf today! I was visiting my Nana's house, and it is her beautiful built-in bookshelves that serve as the stage for Brittany Williams's very fun That Self-Same Metal. This book hit literally every major keyword for me: It's set in Stuart England, it has a protagonist with a sword, there are fae involved, Robin Goodfellow uses they/them pronound, and William Freaking Shakespeare goes faerie hunting. It's also similar to Legendborn in that it brings in a West African (specifically in the area now known as Nigeria) inspirations for magic and spirituality, and I love that these aspects of culture are being highlighted both in the historical period of the novel and in contemparay publishing. Let's talk That Self-Same Metal.

I was sold on this book in one sentence: Joan Sands is William Shakespeare's fight coordinator. Then it got better, because there is a broken pact so the fae are loose in Stuart England and have their fingers deep in the Guy Fawkes plot. On top of that, we have Richard Burbage burbaging all over the stage and not doing the fight choreography properly and romance between our fight coordinator and one of the apprentice actors playing all the women's roles. This book is just immensely fun and full of easter eggs for Shakespeareans (professional and casual alike) and theatre kids.

One thing that this book does exceptionally is reflecting the gender fluidity inherent in the world of Elizabethan and Stuart theatre. Not only do you have the layers inherent in acting (in Twelfth Night, for example, you had a boy actor playing a girl who in story is disguised as a boy. There is nothing simple or linear there, it's a wibbly wobbly timey wimey mass) and I love that this book honors and recognizes that. We also have great Bi representation, because instead of trying to pull a love triangle between our main character and a cute boy and cute half-fae girl, the book goes:

I love it. It is perfection.

Pulling Puck--who has been played by actors all along the gender spectrum--out of the gender binary with they/them pronouns helps to really hammer it home, and we also have background characters across the sexual orientation spectrum as well.

Add to this the fact that the book also highlights the existence of Black people in Shakespeare's day and age and goes in complicated on different levels of racism--from casual to utterly dehumanizing and also to unquestioning acceptance from individuals (noticably not the system, though, which I appreciate)--and honestly the complexity and richness of the world is something that we just do not see in the pop culture mythos we have created around William Shakespeare and his world.

I'm not even gonna address whether the portrayals of historical characters in this novel are accurate or not. I'm not going there, it's too close to the authorship question and we literally do not know enough about Shakespeare in particular to even begin to ask questions of accuracy. I loved Dadspeare in this book; it was fun and made me happy while I was reading it. A+ no notes.

Overall, I had a ton of fun with this book, and despite wanting a little more length and depth from it (in terms of plot, mostly, if I'm being honest) I highly recommend giving it a read. It made my early modern scholar heart happy.

[canmom]

Animation Night 110: Berserk

That manga... No... too large to be called a manga...

Hello once more my friends! Happy Thursday. It’s finally time for Berserk!

So. Today we’re going to be looking at one of the adaptations of Berserk - not the renowned 90s TV show, although I will tuck in an episode of that, but the movie trilogy by Studio 4°C that ran from 2012 to 2013. But first! Let’s talk about the manga...

What has not been said about Kentaro Miura’s genre-defining epic? Probably very little, but that’s never stopped me before!

So. Berserk is a ‘dark fantasy’ manga series that ran from 1989, when Kentaro Miura was just 23, until his death in May last year - a span of 32 years. At this point I have read up to

The story has gone, as you’d expect, many different places, but broadly it is a projection of the horrors of the European Wars of Religion into a heightened fantasy world - all centered on the character of Guts, a badass traveling swordsman who, marked for demonic sacrifice, persists in the world out of sheer stubbornness and battles the demonic ‘Apostles’.

The real meat of it begins with the Golden Age arc, the point where we see just how great a storyteller Miura really is. He precisely lays out a kind of grand Shakespearian tragedy, following Guts’s growth to adulthood with a mercenary band led by the iconic ambitious (evil) femboy Griffith, and the grand betrayal that set him on the present path. Even though we have some idea how it will end, the story rolls on with a feeling of terrible inevitability.

One of the great strengths of Berserk is the sheer variety of emotional tones Miura can convey. It is of course best known for its incredibly vivid and detailed battle scenes, the splattery panels of people being hacked apart by swords - and certainly Miura is one of the best at composing action, and a ludicrously methodical illustrator. Berserk loves to deliver the spectacle of, say, a massive cavalry charge...

(Look at all these horses in distinct, active poses and dynamic perspective, the use of value in the composition to make sure it reads, the sheer amount of effort put into precise hatching around the muscle shapes of each horse. I can only imagine how long it took to draw just this one panel.)

But more than that, Miura is capable of portraying moments of painful tenderness and wicked humour. The Golden Age arc wouldn’t work nearly so well if we didn’t feel the sense of camaraderie in the Band of the Hawk, watch Guts warm up to them, or even ourselves come to believe in Griffith’s dream. The horror of the eventual climax at the Eclipse depends on all of these moments leading up to it.

Yet that’s only the first quarter 100 chapters or so of a manga that has so far reached around 364 (with Miura’s assistant Kōji Mori now set to continue). Following this point, the story enters the Conviction arc, beginning with relatively self-contained stories but building up into a new story about a depraved inquisitor. Miura has a good eye for turning these stories into not just a monster of the week, but compelling self-contained story in its own right (usually a very sad one!), embedded in an overall arc of the traumatised Guts cracking his cynical shell and slowly growing to once again accept connections to other people and become more of a protector figure.

So by the following Falcon of the Millenium Empire arc, the central cast has expanded considerably: Guts, now on a mission to heal his wife Casca who has been traumatised to the point of taking on a totally childlike demeanour, gradually finds himself joined by a whole party. Puck the elf (here more like a fairy than a LotR elf) is a fourth-wall-breaking Greek chorus present from the start; alongside him arrive Isidro, a young boy who idolises guts and tends to form the comic relief; Farnesse, once an aristocratic witch-hunter fascinated by flames; Serpico, her loyal retainer and secret brother; eventually even Schierke the young apprentice witch and her own elf companion Ivalera.

One of the biggest concerns of Berserk is to show how these various characters came to be as they are, and show the events unfolding as a chain of causality. Every so often, we’ll dive into a flashback to flesh out one of the central characters, and honestly these tend to be some of my favourite parts of the story.

This idea of causality is actually explicitly discussed by characters like the mysterious Skull Knight, implied to be something of a predecessor to Guts who seems to have a sense of how the plot will unfold; Guts is described as existing outside the chain of causality by virtue of being sacrificed - and though he has become a kind of homo sacer to be killed with impunity by demons, this also gives him the opportunity to intervene in events. But how is in question; Guts is torn between two impulses: his desire for revenge on Griffith, his desire to protect Casca and the others who came under his wing, mixed his fear about hurting people in rage and bloodlust during fighting.

All this must sound very macho, and yeah, it often is - but right from the very start of Berserk it’s balanced by symbols of effeminacy as well, whether in the form of Puck the neotenous elf (who the camera loves to linger on) or, of course, Griffith - and the relationship between Griffith and Guts is very heavy on sexual tension...

So, wherever did all this come from?

Prior to Berserk, I don’t believe this particular kind of fantasy manga was well-established. Certainly pretty much all subsequent works in the ‘dark fantasy’ genre, from other manga like Claymore (2001-2014) to games like Drag-on Dragoon (2003) and Dark Souls (2011) cite it as a massive influence.

In the 80s, Western fantasy works were enjoying a wave of popularity, particularly in computer RPGs attempting to capture the experience of D&D - which of course ended up with quite a different lineage in Japan (a divergence exemplified by the Wizardry series, which spawned a completely different line of sequels in Japan and the West). And by this point, Dragon Quest (1986) and Final Fantasy (1987) were on the scene; there was a big interest in fantasy art. However, the tone of these games was quite different, targeted much more at children.

Here we’ve got to tread a little carefully to avoid muddying the picture! When we talk about the ‘grimdark’ movement of Western fantasy novels that kicked off with A Song of Ice and Fire in 1996, there’s a narrative that claims all prior fantasy was highly moralistic and full of uncomplicated romantic heroes, but thanks to authors like Martin, there was a turn to cynical realpolitik, bloody violence and torture, and sex (and in particular lots of rape). But it’s not true; this narrative erases the whole ‘sword and sorcery’ and ‘dying earth’ subgenres from existence; in fact there has been ‘dark fantasy’ pretty much from the start, at the very least from the 1960s. Such works, particularly the writing of Jack Vance, Poul Anderson, Michael Moorcock, and (sigh) yes Lovecraft and Howard formed a major part of the fabric of D&D in 1974.

And indeed, Miura cites two major sword-and-sorcery works as part of his inspiration for Berserk’s setting: the 1982 film adaptation of Howard’s Conan the Barbarian (featuring Arnie!) and Moorcock’s Elric of Melnibone series. I think the Elric connection would be very interesting to develop, because Moorcock was definitely interested in the same sort of grand themes as Miura, but I’ll have to actually read it first lmao...

Alongside this, Miura cited some other works from the West, namely the films Mad Max (you can kinda see it) and Star Wars (bwuh?).

Of course, Miura also had plenty of influence within manga. Buronson and Tetsuo Hara’s post-apocalyptic fighting manga Fist of the North Star (北斗の拳, 1983-88) frequently comes up as a big influence, and we can certainly see the resemblance between Kenshiro (above) and Guts, as well as the general post-gekiga art style full of heavy hatching and intricate, thin lines that Miura would pick up so well.

Alongside that, Miura’s demons unsurprisingly owe a lot to Go Nagai; he also heavily praises Osamu Tezuka’s historical manga Dororo. But there’s actually another line of influence that may or may not be surprising: shōjo manga, particularly that of the Year 24 Group...

Miura commented about the influence of shōjo manga on the series, stating that it is about "expressing every feeling powerfully."[17][23] Particularly, he mentioned influence from Yumiko Ōshima,[17][23] and that the anime adaptations of The Rose of Versailles and Aim for the Ace!, both directed by Osamu Dezaki, inspired him to read The Rose of Versailles manga and the works of Keiko Takemiya, notably Kaze to Ki no Uta.[16][24]

Dezaki we covered previously on Animation Night 95, and we watched the anime adaptation of foundational yaoi manga Kaze to Ki no Uta back on Animation Night 69 - and, like, yeah! You can certainly see how Griffith in particular, with his flowing curly hair and pouty lips, looks like he comes straight from a shōjo manga - something perfectly fitting the larger-than-life charismatic hero role he assumes. And in general, this old school shōjo approach to storytelling proved an absolutely perfect fit for the quieter, emotional parts of the story: repeated lines to establish a certain cadence, panels which don’t show events but just establish mood, a certain wistful beauty.

It is the contrast between these two elements that makes Berserk sing. It invites you to indulge in its gleeful fascination with fever-dream ultraviolence but it’s also very determined in observing its consequences on the survivors.

Surely the most controversial aspect of Berserk is how frequently it portrays rape. Make no mistake, it is quite a lot, and if you do not want to deal with that, just don’t read Berserk.

So, how exactly does it go about this? Notably, the main three characters of Berserk are all survivors of sexual violence. Guts was betrayed by his father-figure early in life; Casca was rescued from rape by a noble by Griffith; a young Griffith did deeply traumatising sex work for a different noble to fund the Band of the Hawk in its early years. All three of these events, while they might be a bit absurd and melodramatic on some level, are treated with a great deal of care and gravitas - in particular, the arc of Guts and Casca sharing their respective stories and growing closer together and creating a more positive form of sexuality is one of the most affecting parts of the Golden Age arc, frankly the best het scene I’ve ever read lmao.

Furthering that approach is effective use of rape as an element of horror, namely the climax of the Golden Age arc, where (spoilers) the tortured Griffith, rescued from the king’s dungeon but too injured to ever carry on his rise as a mercenary leader, chooses to sacrifice the entire Band of the Hawk to demons in order to make himself a kind of demon lord. Most of them are torn to pieces, but Casca is raped, first by tentacle monsters and then by Griffith himself while Guts looks on powerlessly. The manga forces us, like Guts, to watch; it is one of the most viscerally upsetting scenes I’ve read in manga, even by contrast to the blood and guts and deaths of beloved characters throughout the rest of the eclipse.

At the same time, there’s a lot of rape or attempted rape that’s just kind of... there, part of the broader texture of violence that fills the series. Our actual and would-be rapists include mercenaries, apostles and at one point monstrous trolls; Casca in particular gets the absolute worst of it, with many attempted rapists showing up both before and after the eclipse. The first time I read Berserk, I felt strongly about such portrayals and couldn’t read much further than the Golden Age arc - now I’ve evidently changed my mind about what’s appropriate to treat in fiction in general.

At this point I think it’s up to each person to decide what they’re comfortable reading and all I can do is just, tell you what you’re in for.

Perhaps it’s worth digging into what role this serves. Berserk is of course deeply concerned with the subject of violence in general. Guts’s defining feature is his connection to violence; he has killed hundreds if not thousands of people and is separated from the rest of the world by the fact he’s attacked nightly by demons. It does a good job of depicting violence as both alluring and repulsive and in many ways, nihilistically treating it as just natural; we’re often reminded that the people slaughtered for Griffith’s dream or because they got on the wrong side of Guts are often just people, other mercenaries, who probably followed their own charismatic leader or just went to war because they had no other way to make a living. Moreover, it is very interested in notions of domination and powerlessness, and this is where the sexual violence fits in. And honestly, these kinds of ero-guro elements seem appropriate for what this story is about.

And yet, the way it treats rape is curiously... limited. It seems even a giant monster completely divorced from humanity will only ever get the tentacle dick out because they see a woman. Casca is often quite awkwardly depicted as ‘the girl one’, with most of her conflicts stemming from that - there’s even a plot point where she goes into battle and can’t fight as effectively because she’s on her period. Often it seems like the only way Miura can think to give a conflict to Casca is by having someone try to rape her. (By contrast, women who appear later in the story like Farnesse and Schierke tend to get very different conflicts - as much as even early Berserk features brilliant writing, I think Miura surely matured while writing it.)

One possible explanation I’ve heard is that Miura’s editors at Young Animal magazine knew that the sexual violence sells, so they would pressure him to put in things like rapist trolls to satisfy that side of the audience. Right now I don’t really have any evidence to confirm this one way or another.

So... all in all, it is what it is I guess. Know what you’re going in for and make your decision appropriately.

Berserk has been adapted to animation three times. The best known one is the TV adaptation by Oriental Light and Magic (OLM), best known for their adaptation of Pokémon(!), which actually began at the same time as their Berserk in 1997. It’s hard to imagine two more completely different franchises. Their adaptation, and in fact subsequent, focused on the Golden Age arc - unlike the manga which introduces the Golden Age as a flashback, it starts the story from the beginning.

This 90s anime series, although inevitably limited by the bounds of TV animation, was very well-loved and was for many people the first introduction of the series. Even with two cours (25 episodes) to play with, it had to cut a little, and due to TV censorship I’m told it ends rather abruptly in the middle of the eclipse sequence.

Notable is the soundtrack by Susumu Hirasawa, who would later become famous as the composer for almost all Satoshi Kon’s films (Animation Night 16, Animation Night 42). It’s got that classic 90s end-of-the-cel-era look, with muted colours and frequently impressively detailed drawings. It’s of the kind of vintage where encoders will be quite particular about preserving film grain or not!

However, two cours of anime is too much for Animation Night, so this is not the version of Berserk we’re going to cover. Instead, we’re going to look at Studio 4°C’s take, a trilogy of movies released 2012-2013.

Here, I may refer you to youtuber SteveM, who made a good retrospective on the trilogy in the context of 4°C’s broader work:

The impetus for this one comes from Lucent Pictures, who approached 4°C after seeing their work on films like Tekkonkinkreet and the Animatrix. Producer and 4°C cofounder Eiko Tanaka was actually unfamiliar with the work at the time; the decision to focus on the Golden Age arc comes from the screenwriter. First came a pilot in 2008, which earned Miura’s approval; the subsequent single movie ended up splitting into three to contain the material, and still cuts a lot compared to the pacing of the TV series.

4°C’s overall approach was to combine cel-shaded CG with traditional animation, an approach which would allow them to take on the enormous battle scenes and complex suits of armour. As SteveM describes, the result is... a bit of a mixed bag, visually speaking. 4°C are definitely one of the best when it comes to merging 2D and 3D, but this time they were applying it to living creatures rather than environments or machines for the first time. The results often looked awkward and uncanny in motion, with the attempt to animate the CG on 2s to mesh better with the 2D frequently ending up with the worst of both worlds. This was improved a lot by the time of the third movie, but still an unfortunate weakness.

Despite this, this is anything but a passionless project; they got in HEMA practitioners to choreograph the fights and went to considerable effort to include historical armour and weapons - perhaps a misguided effort since historical accuracy was never especially the point of Berserk, but definitely a sign of something. And at least going by the reactions of critics, the troubles were largely ironed out by the third movie, which finally got to deliver the Eclipse sequence in its full horrible splendour. In the comments of that video, there are some interesting discussions of what 4°C did better: some people point to the romantic scenes between Guts and Casca, the moment where Guts accidentally kills a child, and the amputation scene in the eclipse arc.

I don’t have an opinion yet! Right now I’m purely a manga reader and haven’t seen any adaptations of Berserk. So I’m looking forward to seeing how all this hangs together in full tonight. Berserk is something that’s impossible to adapt without some sort of compromise, so the strength of an adaptation will be what it chooses to make of the material.

And oh, god, look at the time - that’s about all I have time to write. Thanks for bearing with me. We’ll be starting the Berserk movie trilogy very shortly, at our usual spot, twitch.tv/canmom - hope you can join me, I’ve been looking forward to this a while!

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Sunchive

Aliases / Nicknames: Brat, Chive, The Worse Friend in The Clans

Gender: tom

Sexuality: homosexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed sister, unnamed brother

Other Relations: unnamed mentor, unnamed apprentice, Puddleshell (friend)

Clan: Thunderclan

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: accidently injured his friend

Number of Victims: 1

Number of Murders: 0

Murder Method: N/A

Method of Harm: damaging the brain

Known Victims: Puddleshell

Victim Profile: his best friend

Cause of Death: broken neck

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

It practically became routine between the two. Swap insults, Puddleshell would say something, and in response, Sunchive would flick something at him. 

He never thought that it could go wrong, and he knows that that makes him an idiot.

The rock was too strong, he flicked it too hard, and Puddleshell didn’t duck in time as he usually did.

Sunchive’s heart had dropped the second Puddleshell collapsed to the forest floor. He barely had time to be relieved that his friend would survive before he learned that Puddleshell would have permanent, irreversible damage.

The damage came most notably in his speech. While Puddleshell knew what things were, he couldn’t quite communicate them properly. Herbs were ‘edible feathers,’ for one thing. 

To say that Puddleshell was upset would be a heavy understatement, and although he was furious, he did forgive Sunchive, something Sunchive had never been able to do.

He did his best to make up for it, learning with Puddleshell how to communicate or translate for him, and they did go back to laughing and joking together. But still, that shame was there.

He had been on a solo hunting patrol in Leaf-bare when a bad storm had hit. He tried to make it back to camp, sure it was somewhere around him--and fell over the top of the gorge.

When he arrived in the Dark Forest, he was disappointed that his death hadn’t been caused by an injury to his head. That would have been divine retribution. 

Additional Information:

--When Puddleshell annoyed him, Sunchive would throw (or because he’s a cat, ‘flick’ [like a hocky stick to a puck maybe]), whatever was closest to him without thinking. It wasn’t the first time he flicked a stone, but it was certaintly the last time he threw anything.

--He was probably punished by the leader in some way, which probably had to do with helping Puddleshell heal, something he was already very willing to do.

--Puddleshell, in spite of the large set back, does end up having a good life with good friends. Even so, Sunchive doesn’t forgive himself.

--The last nickname is to himself.

[klcthebookworm]

2022 My Year In Fic

2022 Fiction Word Count:

478128 / 177267 words. 270% done!

Insights To Not Forget: Narrowing my focus to one WIP per month the whole month before going to another WIP gave me results I am proud of. Proud enough to use this prioritizing against in 2023. Look, I finally managed to cross-post old stories at Ao3, which I have been planning on doing for years, but this is the first year I have managed any headway on doing it.

Stories I Posted at Ao3 Finally:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Bloodlines: The Turtles are used to being blamed for the crimes they stop in the Big Apple. But they aren't murderers--despite what Chief Sterns says. And the quest to clear their names is complicated by the arrival of the victim's younger siblings needing protection from the Shredder. Takes place about ten months after the present day parts of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Ronin: Three years after Bloodlines, Allie's beginning college coincides with the appearance of a new vigilante on the streets. The Turtles name her the Ronin, but is she really master-less or is her hatred for the Shredder an Oscar-winning performance?

Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Family, Friends, and Foes: Val Tech discovers the Turtles and now they're on the run. But things really explode once they reach Chicago. A crossover with Biker Mice From Mars. This story takes place in 1995, one week after Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Reunions and three months after Oroku Nagi's death in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Ronin.

Tin Man: Dragons and Ninjas: Five months after the Eclipse, Longcoat attacks and dragon sightings terrorize the population, so DG and her companions set out to save the O.Z. again and cross paths with a Slipper on a mission of his own.

Tin Man: Where Did That Come From: How did Glitch and Cain get to the Sorceress' Tower so quickly?

Tin Man: Don't Know What the Other Hands Are Doing: What happened to Airofday when the Longcoats dragged her away?

Tin Man: Victory Ball: None of this was worth a lousy medal.

A Mist of Prophecies: A Storm of Things Forseen: Queen Titania has a mission for Cassandra that can bring the halfling gargoyle to a clan that will accept what she is. But can Cassandra trust the Queen that destroyed everything she knew?

A Mist of Prophecies: Shivers the Heart to Hear: Every sorcerer's apprentice has to learn not to mix magics. Now is Angela's turn.

A Mist of Prophecies: The Party: A Gargoyles: TimeDancer Fanfic. Brooklyn and Sata find themselves in the future, just in time for the MidSummer's Eve party given by some members of the Manhattan Clan. Members they have never met before. Well, all except one.

A Mist of Prophecies: Regrets: What compelled the trickster Puck to create the role of Owen Burnett? Second place winner in the 2001 Gathering's Writing Contest, Category: Pucking Around.

Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Shatter Your Illusions: Limburger is scheming, the Biker Mice are thwarting, and a new player is riding into Chicago--on a Martian bike. What do you believe and who can you trust? This story takes place in 1995, a few months after "Once Upon a Time on Mars." It is the first story in Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare series.

Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Put Me Back Together: Now that Throttle has lost Carbine, he feels that he has nothing left. Can Charley help him realize who still cares for him? Or will Limburger's goons confirm Throttle's worst fear? This story takes place in 1995, three weeks after Shatter Your Illusions.

Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Reunions: Limburger's latest attempt to kill the Biker Mice results in transporting the bros and Charley to the Olympian Fury, a refugee ship reported destroyed during the Martian-Plutarkian War. But this new hope for the future is dashed by a threat worse than the Plutarkians. This story takes place in 1995, one week after Put Me Back Together.

Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Let Us Give Thanks: Sparks wanting to celebrate Thanksgiving sets off a mystery from Charley's past. Can the Biker Mice find the answers? Fifth in the Wars Are Won by Those Who Dare series. This story takes place in November 1995, five months after Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Family, Friends, and Foes.

Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare: Turbo: Turbo arrives in Chicago, and secrets Throttle has kept buried for most of his life now threaten Charley. Sixth in the Wars Are Won By Those Who Dare series. This story takes place in May 1996, six months after Let Us Give Thanks.

Evil Jack: Domestic Bliss: Charley is married to Jack, and they have a four-year-old daughter. But why can't Charley remember anything from the past four years? And why do three bikers keep following her? First in the Evil Jack series. This story is set in 1996.

Evil Jack: In Sickness: Hannah is in the hospital with an unknown disease. How can Throttle save her from that? Sequel to Evil Jack: Domestic Bliss. This story is set in 1997.

Evil Jack: For Worse: Jack returns to Chicago determined to use Charley and Throttle's drunken mistake to destroy the Biker Mice. Third in the Evil Jack series. This story is set in 1997.

Tin Man: Not His Kink: Zero knew her weakness. And he would make her help torture Cain. She wouldn't let herself cry. She had to get Cain out of this. This wasn't his kink.

Stories I Posted:

Nothing new this year. Oops.

Stories I Finished:

Star Wars: Rescue the Farmboy: Mission on Mimban: Word count = 61,382 (8093 written in 2019 + 14,789 written in 2020 + 22,252 written in 2021 + 16,248). So it took many more months than I initally planned on, but the first draft was finished on November 19, 2022.

Trigun 3 Outline Word Count = 157,526 (83,769 written in 2021 + 73,757). This is the longest and most detailed outline I have ever created and I finally finished it on October 24, 2022. It is practically a first draft of the future novel, and has the heft of words to be a novel. I don't think I will copy this method in future outlines. I'd rather have the words in something closer to publication. But it might happen again.

Stories I Didn't Finish:

Strix: Forget the Sun: Word count = 51,890 (26,588 written previously + 4279 written in 2019 + 279 written in 2020 + 15,328 written in 2021 + 5416). I had a breakthrough on why this novel is so hard to write: all my characters are separate and doing things by themselves. I had set aside April, June, and November to work only on this novel and could barely work on it in June and November. I'm only planning to give it one month in 2023. And I hope I get more of the characters together so it's not as hard to write.

Trigun: Three of a Kind: Word count = 20,838. I started the novel from Trigun 3 Outline after I finished Mission on Mimban's first draft. While December 2022 was set aside to work on Zackverse projects and I forgot to continue uploading my older works to Ao3, I discovered its website is not playing nicely with IT settings at my paying job which makes it so hard to edit saved drafts. I needed something else to do and this is the story not leaving me alone.

What I Think About My Stories:

My favorite story this year: Judging from how easy the words are coming, Trigun: Three of a Kind.

Story most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Strix: Forget the Sun.

Most fun story: Trigun: Three of a Kind.

Stories I wrote that I never thought I'd write: Trigun: Three of a Kind.

Hardest story to write: Strix: Forget the Sun. Every word is precious but I really shot myself in the foot separating all the characters like I have. That was real plotting fail.

Biggest disappointment: That it took three months to finish Star Wars: Mission on Mimban's first draft. I thought I'd get more Star Wars projects done this year but not with how long I took on this one story.

Biggest surprise: How well the monthly focus kept me on track with everything.

What's your favorite piece of dialogue you wrote this year? From Trigun: Three of a Kind

And just when he thought he had failed protecting the sandsteamer, failed saving the insurance girls from the hostage situation the other passengers and crew were in, up they popped to stop Brilliant Dynamite Neon from shooting him. Introducing herself with that insurance society’s name and giving herself an outlaw moniker. And she had surprised him again by getting under his duster after the duel while he was distracted trying to encourage Kaite to do the right thing over his transmitters. Vash had reared back and smashed his head against a wall. “I do not paw you!” “Permission granted to paw if I’m bleeding out!” Meryl yelled back.

What's your favorite piece of description or narration you wrote this year? From Rescue the Farmboy: Mission on Mimban:

Obi-Wan peeled the one on her stomach free. Charred flesh pulled off the unconscious young woman with it causing the slash to ooze blood. The separation of her tissue didn’t go deep but it looked excruciating. Obi-Wan frowned. Both Luke and Mara were proficient enough with a lightsaber to avoid self-inflicted wounds like this. And Luke would not strike Mara.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would, less, or about what you predicted? For starters, let's subtract the Library totals from my word count of the year. Library total = 346,120. 2022 total words = 478,128. So brand new words = 132,008. That is only 74% of my 2022 goal of 177,267, which is not a disappointment at all! But here's hoping I can get more words next year that equals finished project.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? I don't know if the focus on one thing a month was a risk, but it did help. I got to projects that I have planned to do but never had reached time to work on them because everything else is more important. So eventually I will get backlog done! I think I managed more days of writing than previous years, but I will track this next year to find out.

Number of Days I Wrote or Edited: 311 days.

Number of Days Meeting or Exceeding the daily 600 word count: 113 days.

Did you meet last year's goals? Wow, I am so bad at guessing how much I can get done in any time frame. So very bad. The goals from my 2022 one-page business plan are: Spend one month on a writing project instead of doing the juggling thing. If I finish one early, then I'll figure out what to do next. These projects are going into the Weekly Planner that I look at every day so I don't forget as well as the one-page business plan.

January = Trigun 3 Outline. 29 days only working on Trigun 3 Outline, the beginning of the month was shared with writing 2021 My Year in Fic.

February = Star Wars: Mission on Mimban. 25 days only working on Mission on Mimban. Nothing else grabbed my attention that month.

March = BookWorm's Library Update. My mother had a heart attack and I had dental implant surgery, but I still managed to focus this month on a revamp of my website, which hadn't been updated since 2017. That's how many years updates had fallen off the To Do list. And yes, I had put it on there to do. I probably put it on the My Years in Fic for those years too.

April = Strix: Forget the Sun. 23 days working on this novel. I found a problem in the outlined plot and spent the first week fixing that. Then tried to split my attention between this novel and Trigun 3 Outline by the end of the month.

May = Zackverse Upload to Ao3. Started with the stories in the Zackverse that I have already written and then kept going to everything I have written. Got 11 stories uploaded. Also kept working on Trigun 3 Outline during this month.

June = Strix: Forget the Sun. Only 13 days of the month that I worked on this novel. 27 days were spent working on Trigun 3 Outline.

July = BookWorm's Library Update. This July was a mess. I did work on updates that I didn't get finished in March, but I was rear-ended commuting to work on the 7th, my three nine-week-old void babies made it to my house on the 23rd, then I tested positive for Covid on the 25th and promptly forgot to upload all the updates I had made on the Library files. I also worked on Trigun 3 Outline 27 days.

August = Star Wars. I thought I would be done with Mission on Mimban by this month when I set up this plan last year. I hadn't and then I only spent 16 days on it, compared to 19 days on Trigun 3 Outline.

September = Trigun. Oh look the month I was supposed to work on Trigun and no other projects stole my attention the entire month. 26 days of work on Trigun 3 Outline.

October = Star Wars. I was so close to reaching the end of Trigun 3 Outline I just kept working on it until it was done on the 24th. The last seven days of October were spent on just Mission on Mimban.

November = Strix: Forget the Sun. Since I was so close to the end of Mission on Mimban, I kept going until I finished it on the 19th. Then I picked up Strix: Forget the Sun and finally realized how hard it was writing the character's scene when he was all solo and how I had done that to all the characters in it. I finally reached the end of that scene and then had a plumbing crisis on the 28th - 29th. I started updating Ao3 on the 29th while waiting on plumbers and continued with that, as well as starting Trigun: Three of a Kind on the 30th.

December = Zackverse. I see now that I was supposed to start working on a Zackverse story, but I thought this was just more uploading instead since I still had old stories that need to go up. I could only upload and tweak the stories to Ao3 on the weekends when I was home, so I had to have something else to work on while at the paying job. I continued on with Trigun: Three of a Kind.

See how much I put under each of these categories? The goals from my 2021 one-page business plan are:

Make real progress on the Strix series

April, June, November: Finish Strix: Forget the Sun's first draft = still not finished

April, June, November: Edit Strix: Forget the Sun to second draft

April, June, November: Finish Strix: Forget the Sun's third draft

April, June, November: Send Strix: Forget the Sun to a developmental editor

Progress on Star Wars fanfics

February, August, October: Finish Rescue the Farmboy: Mission on Mimban's first draft = finished

February, August, October: Edit Rescue the Farm: Mission on Mimban to second draft

February, August, October: Send Rescue the Farm: Mission on Mimban to beta reader

February, August, October: Finish Rescue the Farm: Mission on Mimban third draft

February, August, October: Edit Sororal Lineality: Miha to second draft = finished

February, August, October: Send Sororal Lineality: Miha to beta reader = finished

February, August, October: Finish Sororal Lineality: Miha third draft

February, August, October: Edit Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command to second draft

February, August, October: Send Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command to beta reader

February, August, October: Edit Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command to third draft

February, August, October: Finish Rescue the Farmboy: Extrication first draft

February, August, October: Finish Sororal Lineality: Kyber first draft

February, August, October: Outline Everybody Lives But Maul story

Writing Trigun

January, September: Finish Trigun 3 Crossover Outline = finished

January, September: Finish Trigun 1 Outline = didn't go back to this one

Writing Zackverse

December: Work on Hyrueliana's overhaul = forgot to do this

Post regularly to Intentionally Left Blank, Dreamwidth, Discipline Under Fire, and Tumblr Random Thoughts = Do once a week = this doesn't happen so I really need to rethink this one

BookWorm's Library website maintenance

March, July: Make sure the software is up to date

March, July: Add any files that need adding = did this once

Add Media Center to BookWorm's Library = this section is now in the Library

March, July: Create section

March, July: Make artwork

March, July: Code section

march, July: Upload files

Add more fanfics to AO3

May: Upload Zackverse in story order = Zackverse what I have finished is uploaded

Upload Rescue the Farmboy: Mission on Mimban third draft

Upload Sororal Lineality: Miha third draft after Mission on Mimban

Upload Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command third draft

Other publishing

March, July: Upload Rescue the Farmboy: Liberation to the Library

March, July: Upload Rescue the Farmboy: One More Service to the Library

March, July: Post Star Wars: Unexpected Consequences to Library = done

March, July: Upload Looking For Home: My Home Is You to the Library = done

March, July: Upload Looking For Home: Outcast to Library = done

March, July Upload Sororal Lineality: MJ-0002 to the Library

March, July: Upload Sororal Lineality: Aftermath to the Library

March, July: Upload Sororal Lineality: Miha

Update FF.net profile of where newer stories are now

My daily writing plans to help the above list of goals get done:

Write 600 daily words. Can be split among stories. = The yearly goal was 177,267 that I reached on March 16, 2022. The Library files are what got me there that quickly.

Write and edit every day. = 311 days out of 365. 85% of the year.

Work in meditation time with Brain FM. = I still need to do more with meditation and the focus music options. My word amounts do go up more when I do use focus.

Use my Kanban Flow checklist consistently. = Oh no, I forgot about the checklists again. I have to do some work that my checklists are too much for one person and find a realistic solution for this.

Don't let chores pile up. = Which is related to the checklist problem I need to solve.

Do you have any goals for the coming year? I'd like to finish up some of the listed drafts so the list looks much more managable after next year. Here's how I'm going to break down 2023:

January = Ao3 Upload / Trigun: Three of Kind since I can't do the uploads at the paying job I'm pretty sure I will have more left to finish

February = BookWorm's Library update

March = Star Wars projects

April = Zackverse projects

May = Biker Mice From Mars projects

June = Trigun: Three of a Kind

July = Ao3 Upload / Trigun: Three of a Kind

August = BookWorm Library's update

September = Star Wars projects

October = Biker Mice From Mars projects

November = Strix: Forget the Sun

December = Trigun: Three of a Kind

This list has more under each category than I will get to in a year, but I didn't want to take a chance of forgetting what to do next. (Where the hell does this fear come from?) The goals from my 2023 one-page business plan are:

Writing Strix series

November: Finish Strix: Forget the Sun's first draft

November: Edit Strix: Forget the Sun to second draft

November: Finish Strix: Forget the Sun's third draft

November: Send Strix: Forget the Sun to a developmental editor

Writing Star Wars fanfics

March, September: Edit Rescue the Farm: Mission on Mimban to second draft

March, September: Send Rescue the Farm: Mission on Mimban to beta reader

March, September: Finish Rescue the Farm: Mission on Mimban third draft

March, September: Finish Sororal Lineality: Miha third draft

March, September: Edit Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command to second draft

March, September: Send Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command to beta reader

March, September: Edit Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command to third draft

March, September: Finish Rescue the Farmboy: Extrication first draft

March, September: Finish Sororal Lineality: Kyber first draft

March, September: Outline Everybody Lives But Maul story

Writing Trigun fanfics

January, June, July, December: Finish Trigun: Three of a Kind first draft

January, June, July, December: Edit Trigun: Three of a Kind to second draft

January, June, July, December: Send Trigun: Three of a Kind to beta

January, June, July, December: Edit Trigun: Three of a Kind to third draft

Writing Zackverse

April: Work on Hyrueliana's overhaul

Writing Biker Mice From Mars fanfics

May, October: Find Wars Are Won series notes and see if stories can be consolidated

May, October: Finish next Wars Are Won story to first draft

May, October: Finish Evil Jack: Till Death Do We Part to first draft

Post regularly to Intentionally Left Blank, Dreamwidth, Discipline Under Fire, and Tumblr Random Thoughts = Do once a month

BookWorm's Library website maintenance

February, August: Make sure the software is up to date

February, August: Add any files that need adding

Add more fanfics to AO3

January, July: Upload twelve already published stories

January, July: Upload Rescue the Farmboy: Mission on Mimban third draft

January, July: Upload Sororal Lineality: Miha third draft next

January, July: Upload Sororal Lineality: Plans and High Command third draft after Mission on Mimban

Other publishing

February, August: Upload Rescue the Farmboy: Liberation to the Library

February, August: Upload Rescue the Farmboy: One More Service to the Library

February, August: Upload Sororal Lineality: MJ-0002 to the Library

February, August: Upload Sororal Lineality: Aftermath to the Library

February, August: Upload Sororal Lineality: Miha to the Library

February, August: Upload Rescue the Farmboy: Mission on Mimban to the Library

Update FF.net profile of where newer stories are now

My daily writing plans to help the above list of goals get done:

Write 600 daily words. Can be split among stories. The yearly goal is 478,128.

Write and edit every day.

Work in meditation time with Brain FM.

Figure out how to keep the house clean.

Figure out the house remodel.

Here's to 2023. We'll get through all this together.

[cruelcruelsummr]

More Orion Headcanons/Backstory

Rise:

• He actually first met the turtles while working for the Foot Clan, apprentice to Cassandra

• The Foot picked him for his mystic abilities, despite his lack of fight training

• When fighting, he wears hair clips to keep his fringe out of his eyes

• These hair clips were given to him by Cassandra, who stole them on a mission once

• Despite being in a clan full time, he still lives with his dad

• He sneaks out through the fire escape to get to clan meetings

• He wasn’t with the Foot during the movie, because he was grounded when his dad caught him sneaking out

• Thanks to his mystic powers, his eyes glow teal in the dark like a cat’s

2012:

• His mother got him his internship at TCRI

• He doesn’t quit when he finds out he works for the Kraang, purely out of fear of disappointing her

• He met Casey in 7th Grade, when he first moved to New York

• They were in the same classes, but didn’t talk until Orion slipped at an ice skating rink, and Casey helped him up

• He has quick reflexes he developed from having to constantly dodge Casey’s swinging hockey sticks and rogue pucks

• Casey’s sleeveless hoodie is actually one that Orion let him borrow that he never gave back

• He cut the sleeves off in the hopes Orion wouldn’t notice it was the same hoodie. He noticed

• He and Leo didn’t get along until Orion started helping him reign in the other turtles. They began bonding over being pseudo mom friends

[pookha]

Life's Never-Ending Circle

A Scorpio Races' Fanfic

Dove has contracted Cushing's disease and is at the end of her life. It's time to let her go. Sean has to let Corr go, too. Life continues on.

I've had this story in my head for YEARS, but I never felt like I was a good enough writer with emotions to write it. Maggie Stiefvater's recent tweet about the Scorpio Race's sequel that didn't happen inspired me to finish it. I took the name Matilda and Finn becoming the Baker's apprentice from it.

TW: animal euthanasia

Sean

I know what the vet is going to say and I sigh inwardly. I think Puck must know, too; she’s seen it before at the Malvern Yard, but this is the first time for us.

“It’s Cushing’s disease,” the vet says and Puck’s face falls. Bran, in his sling across her chest, must sense something of her mood because he starts to fuss and she soothes him automatically, her hand rubs his brow absently.

Her voice has a tremble in it when she speaks, something that probably only Finn and I could detect: or Gabe, if he wasn’t on the mainland.

“And is there nothing to be done?” she asks, but I can see in her eyes she already knows.

The vet shakes his head.

“I can treat her pain, but eventually the laminitis will get worse and she’ll be in too much pain. The treatments just aren’t there yet.” He sighs and starts to say something more, but stops at Puck’s expression.

I knew that on the mainland they’re making progress with this, but importing medicine is expensive and Dove is old and it might not help anyway.

“So, we should just put her down?” Puck asks.

“I always say the owner knows when it’s time,” he says to her and she glances at me over Bran’s head.

Dove nickers and starts to nibble on Puck’s hair and she pushes her away just as absently as she soothed Bran a moment ago.

“Sean?” she asks and that one word, my name, is loaded with meaning.

I rub Dove on her haunch and she pushes into me slightly. I can see the way she’s favoring one leg and I know that it’s close to time, but maybe not yet.

“I think we can manage her pain for a bit more, but it won’t be long.” I take Puck’s hand and she squeezes it until I can feel my bones start to grate against each other.

I feel eyes on us and turn. Corr is watching us from over the fence, his good eye turned to us. Dove is his best girl and he always protects her. Their grown foals are in the barn, separate right now.

Puck pats Dove and Dove nibbles at her hair again. This time she lets her nibble.

“We’ll watch her, then and let you know,” Puck says finally. The vet nods, packs up his kit and goes, his car exhaust smoking first black, then white as he drives down our rutted lane.

“How long?” she asks, deferring to my experience.

“Two weeks, a month, two months at most; she’ll let us know.” Puck nods, kisses Bran on his head, releases my hand and goes to the barn. Dove follows her, limping on her bad leg.

I go to Corr and he whinnies at me as I arrive. I grab a curry comb and start to brush him. I can hear Puck banging around in the barn as she feeds the horses. She talks to them soothingly, but even from here I can hear a quaver.

Puck

Two weeks goes quickly, then a month. Dove has good and bad days, but the bad days are getting more frequent. Sean doesn’t think I see him checking on her in the mornings, but I do and I love him even more for it. Bran has started pulling himself up and walking in the last month, so I have to be even more careful when I’m out among the horse and capaill.

Sean comes in that morning as I’m preparing breakfast for us. He sits at the table and entertains Bran while I finish up: just oatmeal with apples and cinnamon in it and sausages. After we eat, he says, “It’s time, Kate.”

I know what he means instantly. He only calls me ‘Kate’ if it’s serious.

I bang the dishes into the sink and run water over them while tears stream down my face at the same time. He’s the only one I’d let see me cry like this. I feel his arms surround me from behind and he holds me tightly.

“I knew it yesterday,” I whisper to him as I turn in his arms.

“Do you want me to call the vet?”

I nod into his chest. He holds me a long time before we have to both go about our chores. I spend extra time with Dove that day and I give her extra oats and an apple. Sean goes to our neighbor’s to use their phone after lunch and I know what he’s saying. Bran toddles around and I watch him carefully. Dove noses at him sometimes when he’s in the sling, but she gives him a wide berth in the paddock.

The vet comes that afternoon.

“It’ll be painless for her,” he says, but I know it won’t be for me…or Sean.

Sean

Ian has come at my call, as have some of the other men who follow the old ways. Dove was a champion of the Scorpio Races and deserves the same rites as a capall who had won. They help me build the pyre, breaking the silence only when necessary. Ian hadn’t approved of Puck in the races, but he’s changed over the years: he still loves the old ways, but he can see the changes coming. 

We’ve just finished the platform when I hear a tractor coming down our lane. I turn and see that Finn drives it with Matilda at his side. It has a front-end loader attached to it and I know why he’s brought it. It’s Matilda’s family’s new tractor and I know they trust Finn if it’s here, now. Finn slows as they pass by our cottage and Matilda leaps off with a large parcel in her arms. She starts to walk away, but then turns and rapidly climbs the step on the tractor to kiss Finn. Even from so far away, I can see the blush on his cheeks. Our family will get larger soon, I think.

Matilda dashes away into the cottage and Finn drives the tractor up to the gate. Brian Carroll opens the gate and Finn expertly guides the tractor in. The men helping Ian and I go to help roll Dove’s body into the loader. Finn raises the loader, drives the tractor to the platform and eases it down. We roll Dove off onto the platform. Ian pats her flank absently.

“She was a good horse,” he says and I know that he means more than he’s saying, old Thisby style.

“The best,” I say and go to speak with Puck while the men finish preparing the pyre.

Puck

I’m doing the cleaning that needs to be done and keeping busy while I hear the men outside building the pyre. I hear an engine and look out just in time to see Matilda kiss my brother and jog to our door. I open it for her just as she’s about to knock.

“You’re family; you don’t need to knock,” I say and hug her. She’s a solid, warm presence as always; a Thisby farm-woman, born and bred. Bran sees her and giggles. He holds out his arms and she stuffs a parcel in my arms as she scoops Bran up and makes much of him.

“I’m not family yet,” she says over Bran’s head.

I can smell the bread and cakes in the parcel and know that Finn’s brought us food from the bakery. I can also smell something savory and Matilda sees my expression.

“I made you some lamb stew; you won’t feel like cooking for a few days and now you won’t need to.”

“Thank you,” I say and hug her again. Bran smiles and coos between us.

She helps me finish the cleaning, washing diapers without a complaint.

“Pish, I did it for all my brothers and doing it for my soon-to-be nephew is nothing.”

All too soon, Sean comes in. The sunset glows red behind him, making him a dark, cloaked figure, but I’d know his voice even in sleep…or death.

“It’s time,” he says, echoing what he said that morning.

We all go and stand before the platform where Dove rests.

Ian says a few words that I will never remember, but I know he meant them and they were from the heart. Sean holds my hand while I clasp Bran to me. I feel Finn’s hand on my shoulder and see his other hand in Matilda’s. We’re all in tears, except Sean, but I know I see those later when we’re alone.

Brian lights a torch and hands it to me. I hand Bran to Sean and take the torch numbly. The short walk to the pyre takes only an eternal second. I close my eyes, whisper a prayer to the Old gods and the new God then lower the torch. The pyre catches instantly and I step back to be with my family.

Sean

That night, Corr goes mad. I awake instantly at his scream and the banging from the barn. Puck is just a second behind. She starts to rise, but I push her back.

“I’ll go.”

She puts a hand on my shoulder as I dress and pull on my boots. Corr’s screams have woken Bran up and Puck goes to soothe him.

I grab a torch from beside the door and click it on. The wind has come up and I can smell the smoke and ashes still on it. When I get to the barn, Corr’s screams grow more frenzied. He’s kicking at the door of his stall and I worry for his injured leg. His eyes are rolling and crazed as I approach, shushing him and whispering the sound of the sea. It only drives him to greater lengths. The stall door splinters. I pull out my iron and put it on his haunch. Even in his madness, he doesn’t bite or strike at me. His good eye turns to me and he stops kicking. I open the stall door, which screeches on its broken hinges. He lunges past me into the barn and limps to Dove’s stall. I open it and he goes in. He turns to me again and screams in my face; his breath stinks of meat and fear. I start to reach out to him and he snaps at me.

I pull back and whisper more words at him, taking him back to the Scorpio Sea with them. I whisper Dove’s name and his eyes flick at me. He lets me touch him and I braid his mane. Puck is there suddenly and she has Dove’s blanket. She’d had it in bed with us earlier and now she puts it on Corr’s back. He calms immediately at our scent mingled with Dove’s. I nod at Puck and she nods back over Bran in his sling. Bran watches everything wide-eyed but silent.

“Thank you, love,” I tell Puck.

“It seemed like the right thing.” She pats Corr and he bites playfully at her hair, just like Dove used to, but his eyes and the nervous flicking of his muscles under his fur betray his thoughts.

“I think it may be time to release him,” I say.

He turns to me again and butts me with his massive head. I hold it to me and he nickers softly at me.

Bran starts to coo and he reaches out to touch Corr. I freeze on Corr’s head. He starts at Bran’s touch and turns to him, dragging me with the turning of his head. Bran giggles as Corr’s breath makes his wispy hair fly. Puck watches Corr carefully, still not quite trusting him, reading his body language.

Corr turns back to the other side and puts his nose as close to Dove’s blanket on his back as he can. He whinnies loudly and rears. Puck backs out as Bran starts to cry.

“Go ahead; I’ve got this,” I tell her.

She nods and takes Bran back to the house. I sit in Dove’s stall on a bench and Corr slowly calms. After a while, a few minutes or hours, I stand and braid more knots in his mane. I put a lead on him and take him to the yard. The distant sighing of the sea calls to him; I can see it in his body language. He takes an involuntary step toward it and I let him. He stops and looks back at me.

“Do as you wish,” I tell him.

He goes to the gate and nudges it. I open it, let him out and close it behind me.

I let him lead me to the beach.

He stands on it for a long time. Dawn peeks red over the Scorpio Sea. He takes an indecisive step toward it and back to me, then two to the sea and one back. I step forward and hug his neck.

“Go,” I whisper to him. His breath in my ear whispers secrets back.

I let go and he walks into the Sea, not looking back this time. When he submerges fully, Dove’s blanket floats off his back and washes up at my feet. I pick it up and turn. Puck is outlined in the rising sun watching me with Bran toddling at her side. In the swell of her belly, I can see life will continue: a circle without end.

[prince-of-humbug]

Mr steal your girl 😏

Mr steal your man 😎

Mr steal your jewelry 💎

(So I commissioned the incredibly talented @winsbuck to make a sprite of my mischievous flirty boy, my @thearcanagame apprentice Puck, and it was worth every penny!! ) ❤️👌🏽

[wardans]

Im happily crying in this chilis tonight Thank you @aspiring-to-be-a-cat !!!! ( ˘ ³˘)

[sroop]

guided (v) - discont.

You're not strong enough alone. How could he be? They'd crushed an entire galaxy of them, what was one lone star?

A/N: warnings for death, violence, and some #brooding! also takes place in episode 3 of season 1, towards the end of it. also, i'm not sure about the pacing of this chapter. i feel like this whole thing moves a bit too slowly, but let me know if you have any thoughts

Summary: Din chose to trust Reyza a long time ago, and today, she chooses to return the favor.

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Maker curse that blasted, stubborn, good-for-nothing hunk of beskar Reyza called a partner. Because what had she done but warn him from the very beginning?

Don't get attached, when he'd killed the droid for threatening the bounty. But that she'd written off as needing the full beskar reward.

This doesn't mean anything, when he'd cradled the child too closely after it had saved their lives from the rampaging Mudhorn. But she'd thought that was only natural, too.

Don't cause any trouble, when he'd stopped her from taking the child back to the Imperials. Pleading with her with nothing but the gentle resoluteness only he could express with total and complete silence. It hadn't mattered what she'd said, his entire being an unmovable wall.

It hadn't occurred to her in the moment to tell him why she didn't want him to go. Why she needed him to stay. She didn't know how to tell him that she'd had a creed once, a constellation to belong to, a family of fellow stars. She didn't know how to tell him that the Empire had finished them off, with so little struggle and so much blood. She didn't know how to tell him that if he did this, then he was letting them take the last thing she had.

So Reyza just said, you're not strong enough alone.

How could he be? They'd crushed an entire galaxy of them, what was one lone star?

He was playing with fire hot enough to melt the armor off his back, even if he didn't think so. And ever since Karga had hailed Reyza promising great rewards and high standing in the guild, a career of her own without Din as her mentor, in return for turning him in with the child, she'd been pacing back and forth and back and forth in the hull of the Crest. This couldn't be happening. Not again.

Bring him back, convince him to let the child go.

And if he refuses?

Bring him back anyway.

Karga was generally a cheerful man, charming and diplomatic. So the iciness he'd said those words with and left a hard knot in her stomach. Reyza tries not to recall all the times Mando had saved her life. She tries not to feel understanding for why he'd run off alone to take the child back. But she can't.

In the one year she'd known him, he had been a pillar of trustworthiness and dedication. Sometimes, she thinks he even pulls off being an honorable bounty hunter, if such a thing existed. He loved his people and his religion, and sometimes, in his own way, even her. That was the kind of loyalty he'd offered her. The kind where he'd put himself in front of a charging blurg, or let her pilot his precious ship, or give her her own pucks when she was only an apprentice. That unwavering, steadfast protection that whispered I trust you.

The sound of blasters being fired shakes her from her thoughts, and with a jolt, she realizes her decision has been made without so much a choice. Her allegiance would ever be to that Mandalorian.

As she steps off the ship and into the fray, she thinks to herself, if not for him, or the child, then for me. For my brothers and sisters.

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His eyes are big and black and so damningly reflective, Din can't really look away. He sees, in those eyes, every inch of the Mandalorian he should be, shining in beskar. And it was partly the armor that had driven him to do this. Because how could he wear a full set of beskar, knowing that the only reason he'd gotten the metal in the first place was by failing his duty to protect a foundling. The baby gurgles, and Din holds him closer to his chest and the speeder bike he was taking cover behind.

He hears some of the mercenaries and hunters shouting every once in a while. For what exactly, he's not sure; but when he dares to lift his helmet slightly to survey the situation, he swears there are fewer people attacking him than he'd first counted.

And then someone from the rooftops, a would-be sniper, flails over him and lands on the bike. Dead. Din turns in time to see Reyza's figure disappear back into shadows.

She's here. It's a breathless thought, especially the one that follows it. She's for me.

Din sets the child down and begins shooting back. Her words are echoing in his mind, not strong enough alone, and he feels the implication of it afresh. He's not alone. Not if she joined him. Din's hopelessly outnumbered, but if he could draw fire and attention for long enough, then they wouldn't notice the silhouette darting from rooftop to ground to behind them. Once she shaved down enough of their numbers, he could take it from there.

Soon his blaster fire is rarely returned, the survivors flee, and it's just Karga, the child, and him. He wants to look around for Reyza, but he knows better. He couldn't find her even if he tried.

"Now let's think this through, Mando," Karga says lowly. "You know I've got more men coming, and it doesn't matter how many you or Reyza picks off. There will always be more."

"I know," Din replies lamely.

And yet, he can't find it in himself to really care. He's been a wanted man for decades now, having taken bounties that made him more rich in enemies than credits as a young man. But his thoughts turn to Reyza again. She is young, talented, and has a whole life ahead of her free of any Creed. If he did this, it was going to become an ugly black hole that sucked every bit of his life into. Including her.

He's too far gone, but maybe she could still change her mind.

Reyza doesn't let him make that choice for her and slips behind Karga, star in hand. It pierces the soft, unsuspecting skin of his neck without resistance and he crumples, falling into her arms. As he gasps for air, eyes wide, drinking in the face of betrayal, Reyza slides him to the ground. Sorry, and yet, unremorseful.

"Sleep well," she whispers, before looking up at the Mandalorian.

"Take the child, and go."

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thanks for reading! please consider leaving some feedback :D

[pipsqueakpuck]

Poem ~ 💕

My name must be PuckCause it’s true I like to fuckYour bedroom or mine?