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arlana-likes-to-write · 6 months

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Second Chance - Chapter 6

Masterlist

Warning: mention of death, sickness, mention of the Red Room trauma, lots and lots of teasing, self-doubt, Yelena needs a hug

Word Count: 3.1k

Relationships: Yelena x reader, Natasha x reader (platonic), Wanda x reader (platonic)

Note: a lot of this chapter is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. The type of chemo the reader is on is based on her type of cancer but the treatment plan may not be 100% accurate.

“Come on,” you said, peeling the skin off the banana as you followed Natasha and Wanda from the training room to the common area. The duo just completed training sessions and you wanted them to go on a small adventure with you. You could go alone but that wasn’t fun. “It will be a quick trip to Central Park,” you threw the banana peel into the trash.

“I don’t think the words quick and Central Park can be in the same sentence,” Natasha mumbled, filling a glass of water.

“Besides,” Wanda said. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy?” You huffed angrily and chewed on the last piece of your banana. “You’ve had a busy morning,” she added quickly. But you needed to have a busy morning before the steroids left your system and the aftermath was not pretty. So, you woke up and made blueberry waffles with vanilla protein powder and a side of fruit. You played fairy princesses with Morgan, sat with Tony in his lap to learn about his arc reactors, and listened on a conference call with Pepper. You needed to keep your mind and body moving. All you wanted to do was see Central Park in the winter and take pictures so you could draw them later. You loved the seasons; fall was your favorite. The colors, the crisp air, and everything apple flavored.

“Please,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to go alone.” The duo looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

“What are you whining about, Easton?” The blonde appeared and grabbed an orange from the counter top.

“First, rude. I wasn’t whining,” she chuckled. The smell of citrus began to fill the air as she peeled the orange. “Second, I want to go to Central Park but no one will go with me.” Okay, maybe you whining a little bit.

“I’ll go with you,”

“Sestra,” Natasha warned but she waved her off.

“Are you serious?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” the blonde shrugged. “I have nothing going on and Kate, America, and Peter aren’t going to be back until tonight.” Ooh. That was exciting. You couldn’t wait to meet the other people that lived on your floor.

“Amazing. I’ll go get ready.” Walking around New York in March wearing shorts and a T-shirt was not going to cut it. You took off in the direction of your floor. Faintly hearing Wanda calling after you to dress warm.

Yelena watched you run off towards the elevator, acting like an excited child who was let loose in a candy store. She figured you and Peter would get along well. “Ouch,” she said as Natasha hit her on the back of the head when the metal doors closed. “That hurt.” A pout formed on her lips. “What was that for?”

“She needs to take it easy,” the redhead said. Yelena rolled her eyes.

“You are acting like we are about to climb Mount Everest. She will be fine. I’ll keep an eye on her,” she threw the pieces of the skin from her orange away. “I read that it’s good to keep cancer patients moving if they have the energy for it.” It was like she said something in a language that Wanda or her sister didn’t understand. She looked at both of them. “Did I say something wrong?” Wanda recovered quickly.

“No,” she rushed out. Yelena raised an eyebrow in question. “It’s just,” her voice trailed off. “You researched on how to help her.”

“Yeah,” the blonde simply said. “I figured she would be here for a while so why not figure out ways to help,” she wasn’t sure if she liked the way Natasha was looking at her. It was soft. “You guys are acting weird. I’m going to get ready.”

‘It was normal, completely normal,’ that was the mantra Yelena repeated in her head. Someone that was living in her home was sick so of course she looked up how to help them. It meant nothing. Right?

“For you,” you handed the blonde a hot chocolate you bought from a pop-up stand next to the park. She took it with a smile that didn’t quite reach her green eyes. During the entire drive to Central Park, she was quiet as if she was a million miles away, lost in her world. You wanted to ask if she was okay but the Black Widow didn’t seem like the sharing type.

“So,” she said. “Where to?” You shrugged, sipping on the sweet drink. It wasn’t abnormally cold. The weather app said the high was 52 and the low was 36, right now it was 49 but you loved hot chocolate. It would be summer, a high of 92, and still, you craved the sugary drink.

“Not sure. I just want to walk around and take pictures.” She nodded and you ventured into Central Park with the Black Widow by your side. Few words were exchanged but the silence wasn’t awkward. Normally, you were the type of person who hated it when it was quiet. But you found the silence to be calm and peaceful. She let you take pictures of whatever you wanted, not huffing when you stopped for the millionth time. You even snapped a quick picture of her when a cute German shepherd puppy walked over to her. It perfectly captured the way her face lit up.

Soon the ache in your bones began to rear its ugly head and you were getting tired. Maybe you should have listened to Wanda and Natasha. The blonde knew there was a change. You started to slow down and you weren’t taking as many pictures. “Why don’t we sit down at the bench before we head back?”

“I’m fine,” you weren’t sure if you said that to reassure her or yourself.

“Well I’m not, you dragged me all around this park and I need a break. So we are sitting,” you knew what she was doing, making it appear that she needed a break so you wouldn’t have to admit it. There was a nagging voice in your head for you to call her out on it or tell her you weren’t weak. Instead, you followed her to the bench. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips when you sat down. The bench was facing a family, two mothers were watching their daughters being chased by a dog. There was enough snow on the ground that made for a soft landing when one of the girls fell. You glanced at the Russian, who was watching the same scene you were. Again there was a far-off look in her eyes. You knew to an extent the horrors she, Natasha, and hundreds of girls went through. It was part of the files that Natasha leaked. You spent hours and hours combing through everything. The blonde looked away and became interested in the rings she was wearing.

“How are your hands not cold?” You asked breaking the silence.

“I’m Russian. I don’t get cold,” you rolled your eyes.

“That was awful,” you watched as she fought the smile that crept onto her face. You leaned back on the bench, your arms stretched on the back of the seat. You wondered why people hated winter. Maybe it was due to the sun not being out. The way life seemed to slow down and the snowy landscapes looked sterile and lifeless. The vegetation changed too. The lush green, yellow, and red leaves that once covered the trees were gone - left empty branches and leaving trees that looked like skeletons. Those people saw winter as death.

But you saw it as a rest, a white sheet for a new start. A time for nature to do some maintenance. Death was final, you knew it better than anyone. Winter was moving, only less subtle. With spring around the corner, there was a rebirth and everyone enjoyed all of winter’s handwork. “What are you thinking about?” She asked. When you looked at her, she was already staring at you.

“Death actually,” her expression didn’t falter but her green eyes gave her away. She wasn’t expecting that. “I think about it a lot nowadays. Where do you think we go after this? Will we see the pearly white gates?” Yelena chuckled, looking forward. You didn’t miss the bitterness in her voice.

“I don’t think there is a heaven or hell,” she admitted. “I just hope whatever is next is kinder.”

“For you or everyone?” You asked. She was quiet again as she thought about your question. You were a little afraid you overstepped but the blonde sighed.

“A select people,” she said. “I want the afterlife to be kind to those who didn’t get a kind life this time around. They deserve a second chance.” You noticed she left herself out of that, not believing she deserved a happy ending in this life or the next.

“Do you want to head back to the tower?” There was a chill running down your spine and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold air or the conversation. Wordlessly, she stood up and offered her hand for assistance. You took it and stopped the gasp that almost left your lips. She was right. Even through your gloved hand, you felt her warmth. For a split second, you wondered what it would be like to have her skin against yours. Immediately, you chased that thought away. Your friend deserved a second chance at love, life, and happiness due to how cruel the world was to her. That second chance couldn’t be with you.

You were not hungry as you sat at the counter top while everyone was at the table. Wanda made a soup, you were pretty sure it was squash but the smell and the little you had was making your stomach twist. Huffing, you pushed the bowl away and ate some of the crackers the witch gave you. “You okay, kid?” Steve asked, getting his second bowl. Right now you envied the super soldier serum that ran through his veins.

“Yeah,” you forced a smile. “Just not hungry.” He frowned at that. “I’m gonna take this to my room if anyone asks where I went, okay?”

“Of course, if you need anything let me know,” you nodded, too tired to give him. A verbal response, and took the barely touched soup to your room.

You placed it in your fridge and made a beeline to the couch. God, you hated feeling like this. All the energy you once had was slowly leaving and exhaustion plus an ache in your bones was replacing it. Turning on a movie you’ve seen before and pulling a blanket over your body, you were quick to fall asleep.

“Miss. Easton,” Friday’s voice woke you up. It took a second for you to register where you were and who was talking to you. Once your brain wasn’t clouded with sleep you hummed. “Miss. Belova is at your door. It appears that Miss. Bishop, Miss. Chavez and Mr. Parker have returned from their mission.” You nodded, sitting up and listening to your bones crack.

“Tell her she can come in,” the door opened and you glanced at it. Your place hasn’t changed much since the last time she was here. The plan was to finish unpacking after this week of treatment, with some help from the team. “Hey Belova,” you remembered the AI calling her that when she came to help you. The blonde rolled her eyes at the use of her last name. “What’s up?”

“We are having a small get-together,” she said. “I wanted to see if you wanted to join. Buttt,” she sat down next to you. “You kind of look like shit.” You gasped.

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you punched her arm, not hard enough but she faked that it did. But her question was still left unanswered, did you want to join them? A part of you wanted to hang out with people around your age. However, you weren’t sure how fun you were going to be.

“If you aren’t feeling up to it, you can meet them tomorrow,” her voice was softer. It made you look at her. There was something in her green eyes but it was gone too quick for you to decode. Maybe you imagined it.

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed. “Just give me a second.” It was a little more than a second as you went into your bathroom. The cold water you splashed on your face worked to wake you up. You brushed your teeth, put deodorant on, and placed the beanie on your head. When you returned, the blonde was still sitting on the couch. “You coming?” You asked. She got up quickly and walked over to the door to open it. You were used to the quiet. Every time you stepped out of your room, there was no one else around. This time it was different. There was music playing softly and laughter, a lot of it. It made you smile.

“Hey idiots,” the blonde called out. The group turned to look at you and one of them fumbled with his phone to turn down the music. “This is Y/n, Stark’s kid. That’s Kate, America, and Peter; they live on this floor. MJ and Ned like to think they live here.” You giggled as the girl with long curly hair rolled her eyes and flipped the Black Widow off.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kate said. The group was sitting on the floor with their backs resting on the couch; beers and a deck of cards on the floor. Kate’s arm was around America’s shoulder and she gestured to the empty spot next to her with the beer she was drinking. You took the silent confirmation to join the circle. The Black Widow sat down next to you and accepted a beer from Ned. He offered you one but you declined. You weren’t much of a drinker per-diagnosis and mixing alcohol and cancer treatment wasn’t ideal. Plus, there was no way MJ, Peter, and Ned were legal but if one of them was risking their life to keep the world safe, drinking wasn’t bad.

“So,” Peter said, taking the deck of cards from the middle and began to shuffle them. “How’s living in the tower?”

“Good,” you answered. “Everyone has been nice. Just,” you paused. “It’s a little weird.”

“Weird?” America questioned. “How so?” You saw the Black Widow shift next to you, putting her knee up and resting her arm on top.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten used to being alone.” You had friends, some of whom you considered family. But once your mom died, you preferred being alone.

“Well,” MJ said, slowly. “I’ve learned that here it’s impossible to be alone.”

Yelena knew you were getting tired. She saw it on the way you curled up under the blanket Ned got for you. You stayed quiet during the conversation and opted out of the silly games Peter wanted to play. Soon the Black Widow felt your head fall against her shoulder and your body curled up against hers, no doubt trying to steal some of her warmth. Just by sitting next to you, Yelena could feel how cold you were.

Deep down, she thanked all her years of training as she was able to keep her body from jumping. Her face rained static, trying not to portray the way her heart was beating in her chest. The heat that was threatening to grow across her cheeks. Kate let out a low whistle. “Looks like someone has a new cuddle buddy,” the archer teased. The blonde sent daggers with her to her friend.

“Awe stop babe,” America said, playfully hitting her girlfriend on the chest. “We are witnessing little Lena’s heart grow three sizes.” The group tried to stop themselves from laughing which ended up in Peter snorting. Yelena felt her ears turning a slight pink from being the center of the teasing, something she wasn’t used to. It was payback from the constant teasing she started when America and Kate refused to accept their feelings for one another. But her jaw clenched.

“If any of you, suki (bitches), wake her up. I will kill you.” She threatened but her friends didn’t take her threat seriously. They simply rolled their eyes and continued with the conversation. Yelena knew you were tired when she walked into your room. There was a selfish reason that she asked you to join them when she knew you needed rest. She enjoyed her time at the park, more than she thought she would. When you didn’t join the team for dinner, she wanted to spend a little more time with you. Because you were friends. Friends that liked to spend time together. Just friends.

It was a mistake though. Alone she could mask the way her body reacted to you. There was no hiding it in front of them. This group had a unique way to break down every wall she learned how to put up.

A soft groan left her lips and the conversation around you stopped. Your eyes fluttered open and Yelena saw the confusion in your eyes morph to realization then panic. “Shit,” you said, scrambling away from her and creating a healthy amount of distance between you and her. Yelena had to stop the frown forming on her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured you and it was. However, she was a tad worried that you could hear her heart pounding. “I guess you needed the sleep.” You nodded, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Thank you for this,” you said to the group. “We’ll have to do this again.”

“Totally,” Peter smiled as you stood up.

“Welcome to the floor,” America added. A chorus of good nights followed you to your room. The Black Widow couldn’t help but watch you walk away. Kate chuckled.

“You got it bad, Belova.” The Russian took a pillow from the couch and threw it at the archer. Unfortunately, Kate caught the pillow, stuck her tongue out at her, and placed the pillow behind her head.

“Don’t listen to her,” America smiled. “Besides, she’s got it just as bad.” Yelena almost choked on the beer she was drinking. There was no way. You had more important things to worry about than deal with whatever Yelena was feeling. Besides, who would want her? She was a monster, a killer, someone undeserving of love and a happy ending.

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @@wandaromamoff69,

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #kate bishop x america chavez #peter parker x mj #second chance #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #yelena belova x stark!reader

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thesalemwitchtries · 5 months

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Dreaming Of a Grave: Chapter Three

Word Count: 3,284

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Named! Fem! Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries sustained through physical assault (no implication of sexual assault at all, so maybe goons beat reader up in her apartment, but they weren't total pricks about it?), imagery/description of injury- metaphorical, distrust of police/government, Catholic Guilt written by an actual Catholic, so yk... its like organic or something, overuse of the series comma, thoughts of violence, Matt being so close to understanding Claire's points about personal safety.

Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! Any comments or feedback are much appreciated!

It wasn’t often that Matt had cause to doubt his abilities, but arriving at Tully’s apartment building had left him unsure if he’d be able to pick out the workmen amongst all of the other… possibilities. The first two floors were a mix of junkies and vacated apartments formerly owned by junkies, and each level after got cleaner.

Still, aside from the few apartments that seemed to have taken Tully’s deal, the building was full of families and people. On the fourth floor, three apartments had newborns, one of them a set of twins. The garbage chute had never been cleaned, and was clogged before it reached the trash compactor outside. The workers had destroyed the central wiring, leaving the hall lights to buzz overhead. Amongst the other smells, evidence of the lack of water struck at his nose.

How was he supposed to find the scents of two men buried under all of this? Beyond the grime of the street and the unfortunate living situations of the addicts, the building was full of the fragrance of so many lives.

Every person’s scent was unique. They were reflections of an individual’s humanity: body chemistry, habits, environment all mingling together into an olfactory fingerprint.

If Matt didn’t know Foggy by name, he’d know him by the way his love for garlic clung to him, the spicier scent of a nervous sweat, and how he’d gotten hooked on coconut conditioner from an old girlfriend. And especially by the way Matt could tell he loved to laugh, little hints of it hanging around as pheromones echoing in his ears.

Charlotte Tanner had a scent like Foggy’s and unlike any other he’d encountered. It was less chemical than most with subtle hints of cocoa butter lotion, she liked to use mint and rosemary, liked burning candles and giving ham to her very round cat. A mix of plants lined the windowsill and her skin, her ferns were thriving; the cacti bloated with overwatering. The scent of a computer, like plastic, metal, and dust all-in-one. Electronics and various mechanical components filled a corner of the apartment with their metallic tang. Then there was her: human, clean, healthy although over-caffeinated.

Above all of it, was a bright and citrus-y joy. Hope and positivity steeped into the floorboards, nearly hiding the more recents wisps of anxiety. Matt worried that may be the only lasting trace of the visit from Tully’s ‘handymen’.

His knock on the door inspired a wave of bitter panic that prickled at his nose. Ms. Tanner’s pulse raced as she looked through the peephole, before her heartbeat peaked and the fear ebbed. Matt assumed that to be the moment she noticed his glasses and cane, his apparent harmlessness causing her to unlock the door and drop the chain.

“Hello sir, this is apartment 15, can I help you?” Crisp, polite, and effective.

Something with wheels whirred up behind her, tucking itself behind her legs. It seemed to be about the height of a medium dog, and in terrible shape. On one side the hydraulics were running sluggishly and making a soft chugging noise, the thin metal casing was busted, paint scratched. Matt couldn’t decide what the machine’s purpose was. One of those robot vacuums probably. He’d been thinking about getting Foggy one for Christmas.

“Yes, is this Ms. Tanner?” Matt kept his expression clear, taking a deep breath to try and build a map of the apartment and the people who had been there. He could smell Brett and the stale cigar smoke that belied his mother, and Mrs. Cardenas had been there almost every day.

“Um, yes?” she replied. The door swiftly closed halfway, shielding her body from him now that she knew Matt wasn’t lost, that he was there to see her. The little robot zipped to her feet, humming OLED display eyes also peering through the crack in the door. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

“No, I’d guess not,” Matt shrugged, tilting his head to focus on her rising pulse and the groan of her injuries. His train of thought was derailed by the mystery of what had been done to her.

Filtering out the rest of the building and the sound of her brows furrowing in confusion, Matt tried to piece together what had happened. Across her side were hairline fractures on two ribs, a still dark bruise, and bean-shaped swelling. Then he caught it, almost drowned out by the scent of water from old pipes, soap, and lotion; there was a hint of rubber and the grime that lined the streets of New York. Have your face meet the pavement one time in a fight and you wouldn’t need senses like his for it to haunt you.

Pieces clicked together. She was on the ground when she was kicked, possibly stomped on. Fists clenching around the handle of his cane, Matt resolved to help her, before finally responding.

“Sorry, that was rude of me, I’m Matt Murdock,” he stuck his hand out gently, pleased when she only hesitated slightly before taking it. As they shook hands, he felt the mostly healed scabs on her knuckles. So she got a few hits in— he was strangely proud. Good job sweetheart, never make it easy for ‘em.

“Gr-greeetingss st-teeeameed gueeest,” the little robot said from between her feet, moving back and forth on treaded tires in way that reminded Matt of someone swaying on their feet. The voice was tinny and crackled— the speaker had been damaged, and its speech was drawn out and wavery. Matt had no idea that robots could slur their words.

“Igor, hush,” she said sharply, nudging it back with her foot.

“St-st-teeeameed gueeest! I-iii-i am Igooorrr!” the thing spoke again, ignoring its chastising owner.

“It’s 'eh-steemed' guest,” she emphasized, “You’re getting mixed up with steamed vegetables,”

“You are our e-esteemed-d guest-egetables,” was the loud and almost proud reply. Matt couldn’t hold back a laugh, feeling the warm rush of blood across Charlotte’s face as she finally managed to knock the robot back into her apartment. It zipped off in a winding path, stuttering something about getting a water-glass of waters.

“Sorry, he uhhh- he needs a few repairs.”

Matt nodded, raising his gaze so that it landed somewhere near her eyeline. “Yeah, I’ve been told that’s been going around lately,”

Her spine straightened, the sheepish smile vanishing in a second as the hairs at the back of her neck rose, and her voice was firm as she spoke, “I’m not sure what you mean, I think that you’re in the wrong place.”

“I’m with Nelson and Murdock, representing Mrs. Cardenas and other tenants in the building against your landlord, Armand Tully. She addressed concerns that you had been physically assaulted by—”

Hearing the strain of her arm, Matt slid his cane into the doorjamb, preventing it from slamming closed in his face. The wind ruffled his hair back, but his expression remained fixed. Ms. Tanner tried to hide a grumble, but Matt caught that too as she opened the door back up to his faux-innocent face.

“Ms. Tanner, is everything alright?”

“Yes. Thank you for asking. Leave.”

Matt stood firmly in place. The floorboards creaked under her shifting weight, hand resting on her cocked hip with a huff. Lot of attitude considering I am trying to help you.

“Now.”

“I promised Mrs. Cardenas that I’d speak with you, please, hear me out.”

Not entirely true, but the words had spilled out of his mouth as a frantic need rose inside him. Maybe it was the nature of being a lawyer, but he’d never had to fight someone else to just let him help them before.

People came to him, they asked for his help, and standing across from this woman, so reluctant, had him on the edge of his comfort zone. Matt already felt guilty enough for what had happened. Right here, in the city that he swore to protect. Now the only way to alleviate that guilt required her to help him to help her, and they were clearly diametrically opposed in that regard.

Another put-upon sigh echoed from the depths of her chest. It almost had Matt believing that he was asking her to spend an afternoon explaining email scams to the elderly, rather than offering her assistance. “Okay, alright.”

“Whatever you’re afraid of, my partner and I can help you. You were assaulted in your own home, you deserve to feel safe again, and the men who did this deserve to be punished.” Matt had both hands wrapped around his cane, unable to stop himself from leaning forward in an earnest display. The door creaked closed just a bit more, and Matt straightened again, pleading with her. “We can help you, we’ll go down to the station with you to help you file a police report if you’d like, to make sure that they take your case seriously.”

“I appreciate your concern, but nothing happened to me.”

His head tilted, the irregular skip in her heart telling him that it was a lie. Not that he needed to hear it, aside from the injuries slathered in a thick layer of makeup, Ms. Tanner was not a gifted liar. Everything about her demeanor told Matt that she’d say anything just to get him to leave.

“Tully, these men, they can’t just get away with what they’ve done.”

The sleeves of her sweater were being pinched and worried between her fingers, her thumb picking at a hole in the cuff. Matt heard the shift of her feet, the deep breath that filled her chest as she steadied herself. Abandoning any pretense of eye contact, her head slumped forward between her shoulders.

“They’re not getting away with anything, no one touched me.” Another lie, this one mingled with a heavy sigh. There was a desperate tone to her voice where before there’d been exasperation.

A memory came to mind, of the nuns at St. Agnes watching old movies after hours. The kind with pretty women and sad endings, dames looking for trouble and bad guys meeting the fist of justice. They never had particularly happy endings, but he didn't mind that too much, it felt more realistic. Matt had preferred listening to them over the more chaotic alternatives outside of the church grounds, imagining his dad as the down-on-his-luck detective until he fell asleep missing his hero.

Hearing her voice, free from the crackle of old television speakers, it almost felt too raw. Matt could only pray that Ms. Tanner’s story wouldn’t be another similarity, dread sinking into the pit of his stomach. Just because it felt like a portent didn’t mean that it was one.

“Going to the police can help.” Matt couldn’t help but repeat himself, as if there was some magic number of times that she had to hear it before finally agreeing. “Ms. Tanner, I will help you. I promise.”

Her head swung up to look at him, and Matt felt a prick of hurt when her head shook just the slightest bit. Obviously her disbelief wasn’t personal, but it stung nonetheless.

“No, police would just make everything worse,” she said, and Matt snapped to attention.

General fear of authority and the law was intangible, and in Ms. Tanner’s case seemed to be deeply ingrained. It wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse to fight something like that. If she was being threatened though… he readjusted his grip, head tilting just a tick.

“Has someone been here? Did they threaten you?”

“What?” Ms. Tanner sputtered, and Matt’s focus narrowed in on her, ready to catch any sign of a lie as it passed by. “No, that’s not— just stop.”

The exasperation had returned with a vengeance, one foot twitching in a move just shy of being a stomp. Abandoning the door, Ms. Tanner’s hands gestured sharply in the space between them. Her pulse was raised in agitation, but remained disappointingly honest beneath her clipped tone.

“I told you: no one touched me, no one threatened me. Thanks for checking in, Mr. Whoever, now please leave.”

Matt suppressed a frustrated groan, why did this have to be so hard? Is this how Claire felt when he ignored her advice and pulled stitches? No, this had to be much worse. All that was at stake was her own safety, it was maddening how easily she dismissed it. Why couldn’t she just let him help her? He wished there was a way to just make her talk, to get her to trust him.

Even if she didn’t want help, she’d literally been kicked while she was down, and Matt was just supposed to let that go? Let it slide that a woman no longer felt safe in her home, and all for what? For whatever profits Armand Tully saw in evicting his tenants? Matt didn’t think so.

They both flinched at the sound of a crash from inside her apartment, the shattering of glass set Matt’s teeth on edge until the robot’s tinny voice cried out to the doorway.

“Nooo worr-ry-y! Ig-gor m-make mis-istake, but I-Iii-gor try agaaain-n.”

Ms. Tanner’s lips twitched into a smile, a fond huff of air leaving her even as she fixed Matt with the weight of her stare. A foot tap and the pointed clearing of her throat made it clear that his time was up.

“Right, it was nice to meet you Ms. Tanner. I’m Matt Murdock, if you change your mind or have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call.”

With that, Matt held out a business card, his casual and professional demeanor hiding the desperation underneath. He needed her to take it, he needed her to want his help. As the Devil he could swoop in and fight off any intruder, never having to ask permission to rescue people. Matt Murdock however, had rules to follow or risk being disbarred. It was almost enough to make him itch and whine like a flea-bitten dog.

C’mon, take the damn card, please.

Just when it’d become a concerted effort to stop his hand from shaking, her eyes finally stopped darting around in thought. Options weighed, Ms. Tanner’s fingers brushed against his again as she took the card. It left him feeling too light as she turned back into her apartment, multiple locks clicking into place between them. Accepting the card didn’t mean she was accepting his help, it wasn’t even a foot in the door, but it was at least something.

The fact that he happened to like the feel of her skin and the scent of her lotion was irrelevant.

Floorboards creaked, and Matt suddenly realized that it was weird for him to be hanging around the door. She had lingered too, a nervous eye to the peephole as she watched him turn towards the stairwell and leave. Matt could hear her press her forehead against the door and breathe, the small robot rolling up behind her.

“W-water for-or-r g-guest-egetablessss,” Igor declared proudly, a half-full glass of water balanced on the tray that it held above its head. Drips fell from the edge of the tray, several puddles of water barely contained by its lip.

“Good job Igor, but he’s gone,”

“I-Igor-r w-ill wai-ait.” More water sloshed out onto the tray as the robot bobbed once in facsimile of a decisive nod. Matt paused at the top of the stairs, unsure what exactly he was waiting to hear.

“Don’t bother,” Ms. Tanner muttered, grabbing the glass and mopping up the water, “It’ll be a good thing if we never see that guy again. I don’t care how pretty he is, he’s still a lawyer, that means he’s bad news.”

Matt was conflicted behind his smugly twisted smile. While it wasn’t his ideal descriptor, he could work with pretty. He couldn’t work with her having an innate prejudice against his career.

In her kitchen, the lid of a trash can opened, and she stood holding the card over it for a long time, tracing across the lettering. Matt’s shoulders dropped from around his ears when the lid closed, and she tacked the card up beside her refrigerator. It felt like a win, like some small acknowledgement that she didn’t have to be afraid.

He was also going to take it as a green light to let the Devil out, if she wouldn't involve the police these guys could go unpunished, Matt could fix that. When he found those guys, he’d be sure to get in the same hits that she had, from someone their size. When that was done he’d dole out their penance of twice the fear and pain that they’d given her.

It was dangerous and he knew it, this tendency of his to make things personal, yet he was unable to stop himself every time. Neither a conscious decision nor a slippery slope, Matt would just find himself devoted to mere strangers in the space of a blink. There was some innate need or urge inside of him that was tying himself to others without consideration, and Ms. Tanner was the latest victim.

Anything that happened to her from this point on would be Matt’s fault, a failing or an attack on him. It was personal before he even stood in front of her door, before she had invaded his every sense. He would help her because it was the right thing to do, but he needed to keep her safe because it would protect him too, in a way.

Failing the people that he cared about was like missing the step off of a curb, skidding across the pavement. Road rash had been collecting across his conscience and heart during the past few weeks as the Devil; last night’s failure to protect Claire was a face plant. Recovering from it felt like picking bits of asphalt out of his cheeks, burning and stinging in a way that couldn’t be ignored, only dulled.

Every night he listened as dozens of crimes were committed across the city, too many people to save at once. But, there was also the sound of college girls giggling on the streets, safe from the fate of a shipping container. There was a boy that slept sound in his bed, his father sleeping on the ground because he couldn’t bear being too far away from his son again. He could hear teens playing video games and mothers bundling their kids up to visit the park. People that he had saved, living their lives around him.

Matt needed to hear these things, to know that the Devil was doing something useful. That a drop in the bucket was still a positive change. Upstairs, Ms. Tanner was repairing her robot, talking it through the steps even while it was powered off. He wondered what she would be doing when he listened for her that night.

Like always, failure was not an option, and still felt inevitable. In an ouroborean way, he’d already failed, what happened to Ms. Tanner was his fault, due to his inaction. Matt knew about the window, the guy blackmailing that juror had told him. Was probably even scared enough to have told him more, like where the building was. Then he could’ve been at the epicenter, tracking people following Fisk’s orders, preventing things like this. Instead, his one track mind had gotten the best of him, and who knows how many people had been hurt as a result.

The sinking sun warmed his face, a contrast to the chill air that tugged at his coat as Matt exited out onto the street. He just had a stop at the station, and then it'd nightfall, where he’d have another opportunity to do the right thing for Hell’s Kitchen.

Thanks for reading, have a good day <;3

Next chapter is Karen's turn, and we all know that one of her superpowers is people skills... Also I don't know if anyone's interested, but I lmk if you'd like and I'll tag people to chapters when they come out.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x enhanced!reader #matt murdock x y/n #slim ficc #doag #dreaming of a grave

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lamaenthel · 5 months

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Tivaevae | Chapter Fourteen: Tivaevae

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

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Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 12,578 Chapter Summary: Ahsoka and Boba say goodbye.

Ahsoka took a deep breath of the heavy, wet air. It smelled like petrichor and mud, wet stone, moss and ozone, but most intensely of all was the smell of freshly-opened tiarek flowers that had opened to greet the morning sunlight; a sweet, floral smell that tasted like sunshine and citrus in the back of her throat.

It was a pleasant, delicate smell, and one that ironically didn't suit Rex at all. Rex smelled like clean soap and warm musky skin, not citrus flowers and sunshine. She could picture Rex sneezing if he got a whiff of them. She did know that Padmé would absolutely love them though. The wind blew their heavy scent straight to her nose from her spot atop the hill that bordered the creekbed. They were gorgeous, if tiny; small and plush, a vibrant yellow pistil surrounded by six-petaled starbursts of creamy platinum the same shade as a certain captain's hair.

Rex had been named after a flower. A flower. And she couldn't even tease him about it without traumatizing him.

Ahsoka split the stem of one flower with her thumbnail and carefully threaded another through the hole. She almost had enough of a chain to circle Boba's head, though she knew that she'd have to sit on him if she wanted to get a holopic of him with it on.

If Cody woke up, maybe he could hold him down. He had been performing eyelid maintenance on the blanket next to them for the last half hour, stripped to the waist and face down to let his fresh ink breathe, using Robert the Rancor as a pillow. Ahsoka followed the diamond-dash pattern of dadita names along the sunburst to the newest addition; Ponds.

Her heart broke a little, remembering the holorecording Aurra had sent to taunt them. She looked away before Boba saw where her eyes had settled. He lay between her legs, leaning back against her chest with his face tucked next to her lek. He hadn't left her side since he had returned except to strip out of his sodden flight suit and into his civvies. As for her, she'd changed back into her white and red robes, the ones that Obi-Wan had seamed up for her on the way to Corellia.

"The Force is not a power that Jedi wield, as many believe it to be." Obi-Wan sat cross legged in front of Boba's brother, who'd dragged himself from his hoverchair to join the Master on a blanket atop the damp grass. Obi-Wan's aura was a warm, sunny blue with happiness-peace. "It is the energy between all things. It is the tension and the balance that binds the universe together. One can learn to wield it if they have the natural ability, which you most certainly have." Obi-Wan's lip twitched and the air shimmered soft gold with humor around him. "Catching a plasma bolt, for example, is a remarkable feat without any training. Ahsoka can't do that."

Ahsoka frowned. "I also haven't tried!" she called down defensively.

Obi-Wan winked at her. "Would you like to learn how to meditate, Cassus?"

Cassus nodded eagerly. He was starved for contact with any sentient that wasn't his mother or the droids he had programmed himself. He wanted to learn so badly, but this would most likely be the only lesson he ever received; not just because of Kaisa, but because of their own Jedi dogma. It didn't seem fair that Cassus had to let his own natural affinity wither away because he'd had the misfortune to be born to Jedi-hating bigots. His naturally turquoise aura was radiating vibrant green curiosity-excitement-joy. His little BD droid made an offended series of beeps at being jostled on his lap and took himself to the corner of the blanket, where he curled up and pouted.

Obi-Wan smiled wide. Getting the opportunity to teach an eager student that was interested in more than just how to use a lightsaber must have felt like a novelty to him. "Very well. Close your eyes and reach out. What do you feel?"

Cassus shut his eyes, still beaming, and extended his hand. It trembled, but Ahsoka didn't see anything in his aura that said it was a result of his nerves.

Obi-Wan chuckled and gently pushed Cassus' hand down. "Not like that, young man. Reach out with your feelings. Take a deep breath and sense the forest around you. Tell me what you see."

Cassus, pink cheeked and aura yellowed like a bruise with embarrassment, took a deep breath as instructed. "The bunker?" he said hesitantly, eyes still closed.

"Yes, the bunker. What else?"

"The trees. The bugs in the moss." Cassus' breathing deepened and his aura flowed out like soft smoke around him. "A herd of shatual does. A convor. Life, so much life. It sings around us."

"Very good. The Living Force is strong in places such as this." Obi-Wan smiled. "What else?"

Cassus' face screwed up in concentration. "Death. A tree fell in the storm. It had a banshee bird nest in it, and the babies died when it hit the ground." Cassus sagged a little and his aura darkened to purple. "I think it was fast."

"Their bodies will nourish new life, will they not?" Obi-Wan's voice was gentle. "They will be eaten by scavengers and insects, who in turn feed the moss, the trees, all of it. Do not linger there, keep going. Take all of it in."

"Warmth. The sun is warm." Cassus tilted his head. "But the ground is cold from the rain." He turned his head towards Ahsoka, Boba and Cody snuggled together on their blanket. "Peace." His head tilted the other way. "And violence."

Ahsoka's arms tightened around Boba.

"And between it all?" Obi-Wan encouraged him.

"Balance. An energy… a…"

"The Force. That is the Cosmic Force." Obi-Wan's aura was lush green with pride-appreciation. "Very good, Cassus."

"Mama said the Force isn't the Manda. The Force is what Jedi call on to do their magic."

Obi-Wan laughed quietly. "On that, we disagree. I think that the Manda and the Force are simply two names for the same concept. You listen to the song of the Manda, and we strive to follow the will of the Force. It is not so different, those two philosophies."

Cassus blinked his eyes open. "You're not going to make me live at your Temple, are you?"

"No." Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, dear boy, even if your mother consented to it, you are unfortunately too old to be trained as a Jedi. It's a shame. Your temperament is very well-suited for this life."

"It is?" Cassus' eyes went big and round, and his aura flared staticky white with surprise.

"Yes." Obi-Wan smiled, but his aura pulsed with red-violet regret. Ahsoka could see why. Cassus was desperate to learn, but even this small lesson toed the line of impropriety. Teaching the ways of the Jedi to someone outside of the Order was forbidden, and Obi-Wan was a shabla Council member.

"Mama… she's said a lot about the Jedi, but I don't think she was told the truth. And she ran into some bad ones, maybe." Cassus reached for Buddy, his aura gone white with anxiety; Ahsoka watched the little droid crawl up his arm and snuggle next to his ear, cooing the whole time.

"I think you may be right. I know that she suffered at Galidraan, and combining her own experience with, well…" Obi-Wan hesitated and chose his words carefully, "Salacious rumors about the Order, her prejudice runs deep."

"So you don't steal babies?" Cassus asked, looking up at Obi-Wan with shining gray eyes.

"We do not. I do not doubt that it has happened, unfortunately, but if such a thing were ever to be discovered then the child would immediately be given the choice to return to their old life."

"Oh." Cassus wrung his hands in his lap and squirmed with violet guilt-shame. "I'm sorry that Mama tried to hurt you and Ahsoka. When her friends in town called to say that they saw two Jedi and a clone trooper heading for us, she… she got so scared. I've never seen her that scared."

Obi-Wan patted his hand. "Given her trauma, that is understandable."

"So you're not mad?" Cassus blinked at him from under his lashes.

"Holding a grudge is not the Jedi way." Obi-Wan didn't look at Ahsoka but she felt a gentle nudge through their bond, almost like a hand slipping into hers. She returned it with a copper tendril of affection.

"Can we do that again?" Cassus asked shyly. "Meditating, I mean."

"I'd love to." Obi-Wan grinned broadly and closed his eyes. "First let's try a breathing exercise."

"She'd shit if she saw this," Boba said wryly. "Cassus learning from a Jedi? It's her worst nightmare come true."

"Seems like it." Ahsoka gently rubbed her lek against his cheek. "How are you doing with all of this?"

Boba shrugged. "Can't you tell?"

"To an extent." She eyed the confused kaleidoscope of colors that circled around her vod'ika. "But you've got a lot going on inside, I think. I'd rather hear it from you. And talking it out usually helps."

Boba didn't answer, choosing to silently watch his brother instead. "He's not like Dad at all," he said after a minute. "He'd be horrified if he saw how soft he is."

"There's a lot of sharp edges in the galaxy, especially when it comes to Clan Fett." Ahsoka huffed a quiet laugh. "Maybe a little softness is needed to balance it out."

"He's not Clan Fett," Boba said glumly. His aura solidified into solid purple sadness before spinning back up into its fractal rainbow. "He doesn't claim that name. He's Clan Skirata."

"That doesn't mean he's not Jango's son," Ahsoka said.

"Yeah it does." Boba watched a fat pink butterfly flap around Cassus' head and smirked when it landed in his curls. "Once you declare someone dar'buir, that's it."

Ahsoka hugged him tighter. "Did he, though?" she asked.

"I… I guess I don't actually know," Boba admitted. "I assume he did, if he goes by Skirata."

"You should probably talk about it with him."

"Yeah. Probably." Boba sighed. "I don't think my dad really loved me."

Ahsoka blinked, too surprised to respond. "What?" she finally managed, her voice jumping an octave. Beside them, Cody cracked an eyelid, his aura tinted green with curiosity. "How can you say that? Before, you said–"

"I said a lot of things before," Boba interrupted. "That was before I knew why he shot them down. Why she left us behind. Everything I thought I knew was based on banthashit."

His aura went spiky and deep violet; Ahsoka recognized it as the warning of a meltdown and bit her lip. "When we were on The Babasta–"

"He told M– Kaisa, he told Kaisa he loved her too. All the time." The violet spikes in his aura spun and sharpened. Ahsoka smelled salt. "He told Cas and Tiarek he loved them. He tried to kill all of them." He squeezed his eyes shut too late to stop a tear from escaping. "I don't understand how he could do it, but I'm… I'm glad he's dead. I hate him."

Ahsoka sucked in a breath. "Boba…"

"I do. I hate him. He tried to kill my brothers, my mother, and for what? Because Tiarek looked at junk in a stupid box? Because my mother was trying to protect Cassus from the longnecks? We weren't…. He never loved any of us. Not really.” He stared at his hands, his aura throbbing yellow-green with disgust, and Ahsoka had to wonder if he was thinking about how much they looked like Jango's. "And I’m just like him. I tried to kill Windu in some stupid, half-assed revenge attempt. You've almost died for me twice already. My donor was a monster, and I'm going to be a monster too.”

Ahsoka couldn't help the tears that escaped from her own eyes, though it was hard to tell if they were truly hers or an echo from the boy in her arms. “I didn't know him," she said quietly. "And what he did to Cassus and Rex is unforgivable, but–"

“But nothing, Ahsoka! He was a monster!" Boba's face crumpled and he seemed to shrink in her arms. "And I am too. I shot Kaisa. I-I threatened to use the same poison on Cas if she didn't give us the antidote."

Ahsoka's brow markings raised. "You did?" she asked, trying to keep the shock out of her voice. "When?"

"When you started going all glitchy and babbling." Boba shuddered and grayed with the memory of fear. "I was so mad at her, so scared that you were going to die, I couldn't… I couldn't…"

"Sssh, udesii." Ahsoka rubbed his back and purred. "I'm sorry, vod'ika. I don't…" she took a deep breath. "I don't think you have the whole story. I don't know that you'll ever get it without Jango, but right now, you only have a few pieces."

"I wish Kal would have just minded his own fucking business," he sniffled, hiding his face under her lek. "Now everything is… it's different. It's not like I didn't know that it had happened, b-but…" He took a deep breath. "But I know now that he couldn't have loved them, which means he couldn't have loved me." Boba stared down at Cassus with a bruise-dark aura of grief. "You don't hurt people if you really love them. Not for a stupid reason like that."

She looked down at Obi-Wan, laughing silently at the butterfly that had landed in Cassus' curls, and felt her left arm throb for a brief second. "Do you love Cassus?" she asked Boba, gently enveloping him in a warm copper blanket of love-safety-comfort.

"I don't even know him." The spikes were slowing, going dull.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know. I used to." Boba flared soft copper with love-humor as he watched Cassus finally open his eyes and dissolve into a peal of laughter at the discovery of his new friend.

"Would you like to know what I see in your aura when you look at him?" Ahsoka asked softly.

Boba's lip trembled and he looked down. "I can't love Cas. I was going to hurt him. I was so mad that I didn't even hesitate, and… and…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Fuck, I really am just like him."

"That's not a bad thing," Ahsoka said.

Boba whipped his head around. "How the fuck–" he began hotly, but she shushed him.

"Because he was more than just the bad things that he did, Boba." She threaded their fingers together. "He also could make a drawing out of pencil that looked as real as a holopic. He played quetarra and sang for his boys. He fell asleep on the couch snuggling them, and he told you that he loved you every single day, even when he was mad at you. And he raised an amazing boy. With all of the things that he did wrong, he still made you into the person that you are today. And that person is pretty amazing."

Boba turned in her arms so that he could hide in her neck. It quickly started to feel hot and wet where his eyes were pressed. "How can I believe that he ever meant it when he hurt everybody else he said he loved?" he whispered, a dark-green cloud of noxious misery.

"You love your brother. But in the heat of the moment, you lost your head and were fully prepared to hurt him. Right?"

Boba nodded, clouded with deep yellow shame.

"But now that the sun is up and everything is okay, I have a feeling that you really regret it."

Boba nodded again.

"Don't you think it's possible that your dad felt the exact same way?" Ahsoka pulled him out of her neck so she could look him in his tear-swollen eyes. The purple had faded to green, at least. "What your dad did was wrong. There's no way to rationalize it, kiddo, no matter how angry or scared or drunk he was, it was wrong, and that's just something that you're going to have to live with. The difference is that he didn't have an ori'vod to stop him back then, but you do. And I won't let you get away with that shit." That earned her a shocked little laugh. "So we're going to nip it in the bud now. We'll work on our anger before it gets out of control and we do something we can't undo, 'lek?"

Boba nodded, his face still all screwed up and teary, but his aura glowing soft gold with humor.

"We're more than the bad things that we do. They just stick out a lot more than the good." She wiped his eyes. "Change is hard. Trust me, I know. But you can't stop change any more than you can stop the suns from setting, Boba. You just have to keep going."

"How?" Boba whispered.

"You just do." Ahsoka smiled sadly. "You are a survivor, Boba. You've been through so much, and you've gotten this far because of what your dad taught you. You can get through this, too. And it'll be better this time, because you won't be alone. You're not meant to be alone. None of you are."

Boba nodded, soft green with coppery green affection-acceptance. "Thanks, ori'vod."

"Any time, vod'ika." She kissed his temple, slipped the chain of flowers around his head, and snatched Cody's helmet to take a holopic before he could shake it off like an uncooperative tooka.

"Seriously?" Boba asked, then burst into laughter that echoed with bright gold.

"You look beautiful," she teased.

Boba gingerly pulled it off with a roll of his eyes, then glanced at Cassus. "We're not meant to be alone," he repeated quietly. "But Cassus is alone."

"He has Kaisa," Ahsoka said, watching him gently rotate the flower crown in his hands.

Boba snorted. "Yeah. And look how that turned out." He took a deep breath and went silvery-green with determination. "But if I go back with you, I'll be alone too. I know there's that school that Plo talked about, and yeah, you'll visit when you can, but I'll be on my own there most of the time."

Ahsoka's heartbeat sped up. "That's true."

"I have to stay here. For Cassus. He needs an ori'vod, even if he is technically older than me." He looked up at Ahsoka. "Plo won't be mad, right?"

"No," she said. "No, I think Plo will be so proud of you when I tell him why you stayed." And so was she, though her first instinct was to put him under her arm and run. She couldn't do that. She had already come to terms with letting Boba go when it was time, it was just… now that it was actually time, it was proving a little more daunting than she had expected.

"Maybe I can bully Kaisa into moving to Coruscant," Boba jokes, going soft gold again. "She's been locked in this fucking hole for a decade, after all." He adjusted his legs and his aura lightened to pale blue with surprise. He reached for the pocket above his right knee. "Shit, I keep forgetting to give you–"

"Breakfast!" Gotika toddled out of the bunker entrance, trailed closely by Pinky. The astromech was wearing a frilly black apron. "Cas'ika, breakfast is ready, it's time to–" She stopped dead at the sight of her maker on the ground. "Cas'ika, what do you think you're doing?" she wailed, waddling at hyperspeed towards him.

"I'm fine, Gotika," Cas said, exasperated. He quickly clambered back into his hoverchair before he could be scolded again.

"But the ground is wet! You could get sick, or–"

"I'm fine!" he said crossly, his aura yellowing with embarrassment. "Let's go in."

"Finally," Cody groaned, flipping over and reaching for the top half of his blacks.

Boba tossed the flower chain to his brother as he zoomed by. "Ahsoka made this for you," he lied casually, smirking.

"Really?" Cassus put it on his head and grinned at her. "Thank you!"

Ahsoka smiled at Cassus and kicked Boba's ankle. "You are very welcome," she said sweetly.

"He's a natural," Obi-Wan said softly, coming up behind her. They watched the two boys and Cody follow Gotika up the short ramp to the bunker door.

"I noticed." Ahsoka allowed him to put a careful arm around her shoulders. "It's a shame that he can't be taught. I could see him in the Agricorps."

"He has a Force Talent. Mechu-deru. A very rare gift, one once thought to be linked to the Dark Side. We know better now, thankfully."

Ahsoka raised her brow markings. "What is mechu-deru?"

"He has an intuitive understanding of mechanics, and can manipulate them with the Force. He said that he rebuilt and programmed Gotika when he was five." Obi-Wan shook his head with an aura of green disbelief. "All of these droids, the drones, the turrets– those were all built from scrap by him with absolutely no guidance. He would have been a wonder if he'd had a teacher."

"Reminds me of Anakin," Ahsoka said quietly.

"In a way, yes." Obi-Wan squeezed her a little as they walked. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Like I was put through a laundry pod and hung up to dry," Ahsoka joked. "Otherwise, I guess I'm fine."

"And the leg?"

Ahsoka twisted her leg to show him. "It's already closed up," she said with a smile.

"Good." Obi-Wan returned her smile but his eyes were tight, and his aura thrummed with staticky-gray anxiety. "Thank you, Ahsoka."

She side-eyed him. "For what?"

"For allowing me to accompany you on the final leg of your journey. I know…" he took a deep breath and his aura flooded with pewter determination. "I understand, now, how deeply my actions affected you, but I need you to know that none of my decisions were made out of malice, or indifference towards you, but out of my duty to the Republic."

Ahsoka nodded, feeling cold resignation sink down into her guts like an iceberg. He wasn't saying that he regretted it. He wasn't even really apologizing for it. He was just asking for her to understand that it wasn't personal.

Somehow that felt even worse than everyone telling her to get over it.

"I care deeply for you, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan said, his voice cracking. He stopped and took her hands, looking frighteningly young without his hair and beard. He looked almost like the Padawan Bobi of her youth, and it hurt to look at him for too long. "More than even you, with your marvelous gift, will ever know." His aura shone like a star with intense copper and his eyes pleaded for her forgiveness, for her to tell him that they could go on again as normal, but she couldn't make the words come out.

She had been furious at him at first, almost more for what Anakin had been through than her, but now that anger was gone and all that remained was just… sadness. She wasn't angry anymore, she was in mourning; not for the man, but for the trust that was gone for good. She loved him, and she could see how much he loved her, but the unshakeable faith that she'd always had in him was gone. She was expendable to Obi-Wan in a way that she had known in the abstract, but had never been forced to confront before now.

"Would you do it again?" she asked him, trying and failing to not let her grief leak into her voice. "If you could do it all over again, would you put me in that alley and let me hold you while you died? Make Anakin watch them burn your body? Or would you trust us enough to bring us in?"

Obi-Wan looked away, darkening with a familiar shade of yellow shame-regret. "Hindsight is notably clearer than foresight," he said quietly. "Perhaps I should have had more faith in the two of you, but the life of a Jedi requires us to sacrifice everything in service of the greater good. I regret that I hurt you, Ahsoka, I truly do. And… I may have gone further than I needed to in order to sell the lie."

But he would do it again if he had to. He may even hate it, but he would do it, because that was what a Jedi did. They sacrificed everything and held onto nothing, all for the greater good.

And Ahsoka… she was a Jedi too, and it was time for her to follow her own advice. To keep walking, and not look back. She'd always looked at him as the closest thing as a father that she'd ever have, and his aura matching the color of her actual father's had only cemented it for her, but he wasn't her father. He was her mentor and one of her dearest friends. He had shaped her into the person that she was, guided her lightsaber forms and taught her about the Force, but it was long past time that she let go of Bobi and what he represented to her and move forward with Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. She quieted her mind and took a deep breath, then opened herself up to the flow of the Cosmic Force and surrendered her dull, icy grief to it.

"Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan asked softly, teal with concern over the way she'd gone quiet.

The gentle hooting of a convor sounded directly above their heads; she craned her neck up to search the canopy but saw nothing but a sea of green against a sunny blue sky. "I'm starving," she said, looking back down with a watery smile; she felt lighter now, but empty in a way that she couldn't describe. "Let's get inside before Cody inhales the table."

She felt her wound throb as she walked away, but it didn't reopen.

"So is this an everyday thing?" Ahsoka asked, staring at the spread before her. Roba sausage, scrambled nuna eggs with little pieces of spicy peppers, a giant pot of hominy, some sort of cake crusted with sugar and amber syrup, a bowl the size of Pinky's dome full of sliced-up shuuras, snozzberries and meilooruns, all sprinkled with shredded kokanini… It was the sort of breakfast feast that was served to a busy working family in a holovid that would have two bites taken then be promptly abandoned in favor of the plot.

Cassus blushed, fogged with yellow embarrassment, and fiddled with the napkin on his lap. "No, but I-I thought since we haven't really been good hosts, I could at least make sure you had a nice meal before you left."

"You kicking us out?" Boba asked casually, dipping a fork full of nuna eggs into the amber syrup before shoving it in his mouth.

"No, of course not, but I didn't… didn't think you'd want to stay after you got your armor."

Boba swallowed the whole mouthful in one go. "You don't want it?" he asked, flaring white with surprise.

Cassus shook his head. "It would be wasted on me," he mumbled. "I'm not a warrior. I'm–" his bronze cheeks were nearly puce and his aura was getting more yellow by the moment. "I can't walk. My hands shake too much to shoot straight. I made my drones to try and be useful, but I'll never be able to fight someone face-to-face no matter how much beskar I'm wearing."

"Well, not with that attitude," Boba grumbled, shoving more eggs in his mouth.

Ahsoka gave him the look that she so often received from Rex that said behave. "Is your mom going to join us, Cassus?" she asked.

Cassus shook his head. "She's packing the armor up now," he said, not meeting Ahsoka's eyes.

"Then I'll go take a plate to her." Ahsoka stood up and almost walked face-first into Gotika.

"Mistress Kaisa needs to rest while she recovers from her injury, Master Jedi," she said brightly.

Ahsoka nearly choked at being addressed as Master, and she saw gold flicker around Obi-Wan out of the corner of her eye. "I'll make sure she's abiding by your recommendations and take her some food," she said pleasantly, stepping to the side.

"I already brought her a plate." Gotika matched her step.

"Then I'll join her so she doesn't have to eat alone." Ahsoka stepped to the left, mirrored by the ominously pleasant protocol droid.

"No need."

"Gotika, let her pass," Cassus said sharply.

Gotika's eyes dimmed and she immediately stepped out of Ahsoka's way.

She tossed a tiny smirk over her shoulder at the droid as she made the hallway. Gotika's left eye strobed as though it was twitching.

Ahsoka rapped softly on the door at the end of the hall before opening it. Kaisa sat on her bed, dressed down into a sleeveless undershirt and a pair of loose pants that ended at the knee, both black and well-worn. There was a green bacta sleeve wrapped around her left knee. She stared at Ahsoka as she came in, her aura pulsing like orange smoke with distrust-anxiety-fear.

"Thought you could use some company while you ate," Ahsoka said gently, projecting a cool sage aura of serenity-trust.

"Why?" Kaisa's aura cautiously bled back into her base of coral, tinged with a bruised line around the edges.

"Maybe it's the Togruta in me talking, but I hate eating alone." Ahsoka set her plate down on her wooden dresser and leaned against it, taking in the room. It was rather plain in comparison to the vibrant colors of the karyai; the walls were gray and she had a carpet thrown over the plascrete floor that was a soft blue, but the only decorations she kept in her room were a few holopics on her dresser and a knitted blanket on her bed that faded between ripples of orange into purple, like a sunset reflecting off the surface of a lake. Boba's beskar plates lay in front of her on the bed, along with four bright blankets folded into neat squares.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." There was a rocking chair opposite of Kaisa's bed; Ahsoka gestured at it. "May I?" She took a seat after Kaisa's nod, careful to respect her boundaries. Ahsoka was in her bedroom now, her most intimate space. She was going to be defensive no matter what, but she would also be unbalanced, too wary to be able to lie convincingly.

Kaisa's aura developed a telltale pewter line around the edges, preparing to go on defense.

"I apologize for screaming at you last night." Ahsoka watched the pewter shiver.

Kaisa tilted her head. "I poison you."

"I'm fine now." Ahsoka shrugged. "I could hold a grudge if you'd prefer, but it isn't the Jedi way."

Kaisa snorted. "Jate, if you speak it." Her gaze fell back to the bed and softened as she looked at the plates, her aura flooding with violet so dark that it was nearly black with grief-despair. "I hear Jango die many time. Six, seven, more. I before hear he die on Geonosis, I think same again." Her shoulders fell. "Not rumor, this time. Jango nari taabi'an."

"Elek." Ahsoka watched the woman carefully, curious as to why she would mourn the man who had done such terrible things to her. "He tried to kill you. He tried to kill your son. You had to stay in hiding for a decade because of him. I admit that I don't know you very well, but his death seems like something you'd celebrate."

"Not simple, my Jango." Kaisa took a deep breath. "Long story."

"Then start at the beginning," Ahsoka replied easily. "How'd you meet?"

Kaisa's eyes flicked up from the beskar plates. It was eerie how close the colors matched. "My Clan, my home in Kyrimorut, Death Watch burn. My ba'vodu take me in. Kal."

"Kal's your uncle?" Ahsoka asked, surprised. "I didn't realize you were blood related."

Kaisa raised an eyebrow and her aura went chartreuse with disdain. "No blood. My buire find me when kih'ad. Aliit ori'shya tal'din."

Family is more than blood. She didn't disagree there. "I agree. I didn't mean to imply otherwise. Please, go on."

"Kal join with Jaster Mereel. Haat'la Mando'ade. I meet Jango there. We grow up together." Kaisa's aura flooded to mauve with love-yearning. "We happy, for while. Then not. We always fight. Too… too same. He never back down, I never back down." Kaisa gently bopped her fists together. "Like gotaliise, Jango and me." She smiled softly in wistful remembrance.

"What happened the night you left Kamino?" Ahsoka asked. "Why did you leave?"

Kaisa's face fell. "Cassus almost... Jango not does trying hurt him. Our fault, together." She took another deep breath, flaring bright red with the memory of anger. "One day, I find Cassus does floating with his toys. I know we must leave. Not safe, he does singing around kaminiise. They will take him, they want his blood. Want everything." Her aura flared to bright violet sadness. "I speak Jango, we does leaving, with him or not with him. I want take all my boys. All." She wiped her nose. "Jango stop us on landing pad, speak Tiarek and Boba his. I fight him, I not does leaving without my boys."

Ahsoka's heart lightened. She'd fought for them. She hadn't just gotten in her ship and accepted Jango's claim, she'd fought for them. That changed things.

"He… he hit ner sen'tra."

"Your jetpack?"

" 'Lek. He hit it, he… he want disable it. Make me stop from does flying. But it make me fly hard. Very hard, very fast." Tears leaked down in twin trails on her cheeks. "I hold Cassus when happen. Sen'tra fly me at wall before I can stop."

Ahsoka had seen how violently a person could be jettisoned with a malfunctioning jetpack more than once, and felt ill to imagine it happening to a toddler. "That's how Cassus was hurt?" she asked.

Kaisa nodded miserably. "I hit wall hard, h-his spine break." Her face crumpled and her aura darkened with even more violet sorrow. "Jango… he scream. He think he kill him. I never hear him scream so loud, long. He want my death, I see in his face."

"So it was an accident," Ahsoka said softly.

"I have stasis pod on my ship for bere, for I does hunting." Kaisa stared at the four blankets, haunted. "I run. Cassus does dying, kaminiise not help if I stay. I try reach my ade, my Boba and Tiarek, but Jango…" Kaisa looked up at her. "I put Cassus in stasis pod, fly. No choice. He die, if I stay."

Ahsoka couldn't answer for a few moments, her mind racing to picture the scene. Kaisa and Jango arguing in the Kaminoan storm, Rex and Boba being held back by their father. Jango sabotaging Kaisa's jetpack, and Kaisa being rocketed into a wall hard enough to break the spine of the baby in her arms. Being forced to choose between fighting for her remaining children and saving the one actively dying.

It was a choice that Ahsoka wasn't sure she would have been able to make. She had been forced to leave troopers behind on the battlefield and it destroyed her every time, but to have to make that choice about her own children? If Boba knew, it might change how he looked at Kaisa, but Ahsoka feared it would also erode his father's memory even more.

"Jango shoot. I drop escape pod, missle hit it." Kaisa sniffed. "We call move goteni muun'lan, when we Haat'la Mando'ade."

Ahsoka raised a brow marking. "Laying an egg?" she asked, unsure if she was translating correctly. "Because… because you drop the pod to be blown up?"

" 'Lek." Kaisa looked at Ahsoka with eyes shining with tears. "He think Cassus dead, or will be. My fault. He want kill me, not him."

She sniffled again. "I get away. I make Corellia. Cassus… No does feeling under here." She drew a line under her large bust, but above her navel. "We hide. Jango kill me, take Cassus back if he does finding us. So we hide. I…" she started crying again. "I know Boba and Tiarek alive on Kamino. Not in danger, not like Cassus. So I hide. I pray for my boys one day does finding me. I not expect jetiise with him."

She really hadn't had a choice. Ahsoka's heart twinged with sympathy for the woman who was practically drowning in her own guilt on the bed.

"I not understand how he hurt Tiarek." Kaisa's eyes looked far away. "Boba, he… when almost two year, climb up front of traciyam. Pot of tiingilar does boiling on top, Boba pull off, miss him by inch. I hit him on his shebs, two hit so he not climb again. Jango hit me." Kaisa showed Ahsoka an open palm and huffed a soft laugh. "He speak I hit anyone, I hit him. Never his ad'ikase. He hold ad'ikase in his heart. He never hurt them."

But he had. How broken had Jango become to have hurt Rex the way he had? To abandon him?

"You speak Jango…" Kaisa swallowed hard. "He beat Tiarek? He…"

"Yes." Ahsoka nodded and felt her heart clench. "About a year after you left. He and Boba were going through the things you'd left behind and he walked in on them. He had forbade them from going in it, and he struck Tiarek with the box." She swallowed. "Hard. After his head trauma was treated, he was reconditioned and reassigned to the Marshall Commander batch under Dred Priest."

"Priest?" Kaisa's voice cracked and she doubled over, drowning in black despair. "Ner ad'ika. Ni ceta, ni ceta ner kar'ta."

Ahsoka cautiously examined her aura. She saw no sign of any deceit silvering its edges. Her grief and guilt looked real enough. She strengthened her projection of serenity and waited for Kaisa to catch her breath.

It took her almost a minute for her to compose herself before she sat up, wide-eyed and trembling, and looked at Ahsoka with yellow desperation. "You know…He alive? Or he die in war?"

"He's alive." Ahsoka moved from the chair to the bed, and took Kaisa's hand. "He serves directly under me as a Captain in the 501st clone battalion."

Kaisa blinked, going white with shock, then shook her head. "Good boy," she said laughing, flush with blue relief-pride. "Good boy always. Sweet always. Naughty never, listen Mama always. Take care of kaysh vode."

"That sounds like him." Ahsoka couldn't help but smile. "He goes by Rex, now."

"Rex?" Kaisa raised an eyebrow. "What wrong with Tiarek, eh?"

"I think he remembered it, to an extent. That's why he chose it." Ahsoka shrugged. "Reks'ika. Rex. It makes sense."

Kaisa nodded. "It makes sense," she repeated softly. "Shabla kaminiise. They had no right. No right." She squeezed her eyes shut. "But maybe… maybe better, he not remember me. Boba has pain, much pain. Easier Rex does forgetting. Not open a wound with good, clean scar. Stay heal." She wiped her eyes and turned to the folded blankets, sniffling. "You before see this?" she asked, changing the subject.

Ahsoka shook her head.

Kaisa unfolded the blue blanket. Dozens of tiny tiarek flowers had been cut from cotton and sewn to the front of it in a pattern that mirrored itself in four directions, like a mandala. "Called tivaevae," Kaisa said softly. "Tradition on Concord Dawn, not Mandalore. Buire make together for they ade. Meant as a…" Her hands flailed. "I not know word, ah… symbol speak? Sa'johaa."

Ahsoka thought for a second. "A metaphor?" she asked, as it was the closest thing she could think of to like speak.

Kaisa shrugged. "Not know, but needle, thread, fabric, all sa'johaa. We stitch up our ade and make them strong with thread, weave our fabric and create for them. We make our ad like we make tivaevae." She brushed at an invisible piece of lint. "Not only thread. Holes from needle. We must be gentle, or more big, more big than we can does hiding. We… give violence on our ade, in does making them." She stared at her boots instead of Ahsoka. "But I make one for all my boys. Not finish, but I make. Give on his verd'goten, if return. This for Tiarek."

"It's beautiful." The appliqued flowers had been sewn flush to the front of the lake blue fabric with thousands of miniscule stitches. It was clearly still unfinished, with a half-dozen flowers still loosely basted on and almost a meter of blank blue space between the flowers and the edge, but hundreds of hours must have been poured into it already. Ahsoka glanced back at the other blankets. "But there's four?"

" 'Lek. All need more work. Take more long, only one parent." Kaisa smiled sadly and her aura darkened with grief again. "Cassus." She patted the bright turquoise square, then the lush, fern green square beside it. "And Boba."

"And the orange?" Ahsoka asked, eyeing it curiously.

"Gavin." Kaisa unfolded it. It hadn't been worked on as much, with only a few bright-red laceleaf flowers attached in the center. "Our first son."

Ahsoka nearly fell backwards off the bed. "You have another son?" she asked, her voice pitching up sharply.

"He die." Kaisa's bruised aura retreated on itself, stuck tight to her skin like a bandage. "Death Watch kill him on Galidraan. Five years old." She trailed her hand over the red flowers, her face haunted and distant. "They make me watch."

Ahsoka covered her mouth. The pain in Kaisa's voice was indescribable, an agony that split the Force with a shriek like a knife on porcelain. "I'm sorry," she managed after a few seconds.

Kaisa refolded the blanket. "You take Boba and Ti… Rex, take they tivaevae when you leave. Maybe you finish." She shrugged. "You his ori'vod. Close thing like buir for him."

Ahsoka watched the pain on Kaisa's face echo in her aura. She was dar'buir to Boba, now, and the declaration was as much a wound to her as the gash on the back of Ahsoka's leg. "Boba's staying," she said.

Kaisa's aura turned bright white with shock-disbelief, and her mouth fell open in a small o. "He stay?" she whispered, almost too quietly to hear.

Ahsoka nodded. "He's staying for Cassus. He doesn't want to be separated from his brother again."

"H-he speak, though–" Kaisa began, her voice shaking.

"He's staying. Consider this a fresh start. Cin vhetin." Ahsoka squeezed Kaisa's cold hands. "Give him some time. He's been hurt badly by the adults he's trusted in the past. Don't demand anything of him, show him that you can be trusted. As hard as it may be, he's not ready for you to be Mama again. Not yet."

Kaisa nodded as Ahsoka spoke, pale pink hope swirling around her like smoke. "Any chance, I take," she said desperately. "Any price I pay."

Ahsoka fought the urge to smirk. "In that case, have you ever considered moving to Coruscant?"

"Coruscant?" Kaisa's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Dangerous place. Not… Cassus, he not go city in many year…"

"Boba has an invitation to a prestigious academy there." Ahsoka's lip twitched. Anakin would have been proud of her for that not-lie, but an offer of a scholarship was still an invitation even if it was extended out of pity. "I'm sure that a spot could be arranged for Cassus, too."

"I… I think." Kaisa looked disturbed at the notion of moving; her aura matched her face with ugly green disgust.

Ahsoka had to wonder if it was because she was a country girl, or because she just found the notion of living on the Jedi's home planet so despicable.

Kaisa shook her head and straightened her spine. "Now, you does coming with me. You must eat, too skinny. More food. Come. Later speak me, I have tiingilar spices. I give for you later cook, ad'ikase love tiingilar." Kaisa got to her feet and carefully hobbled back out to the karyai, Ahsoka's cold plate in her hand and her coral aura suddenly missing its bruised tinge.

"I've programmed in everyone's private frequency—mine, Plo's, Anakin's, Obi-Wan's, even Master Shaak-Ti's. If you need anything, anything, just call one of us right away." Ahsoka smoothed down the shoulders of Boba's jacket. "Even if one of us can't come, we'll send someone. Someone you can trust."

"Take a breath, Tano," Boba said, smirking down at his kneeling ori'vod.

"I'm breathing just fine." Ahsoka scowled at him and got to her feet. "Can you blame me for being cautious? You can't go more than a day without somebody trying to kill you."

Boba shrugged. "Yeah, well, I got a guard dog now." He jerked his head back at Gotika, standing at the door of the bunker next to Kaisa, glaring pleasantly at their departing guests in the creek bed.

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. "Yeah," she said, not sounding convinced. "I guess that's true. I'm allowed to be worried a little bit, though, right?"

"Yeah, I don't think I've much say in that. You're a fucking worrywort." Boba smiled like his heart wasn't pounding in his ears.

Ahsoka was leaving. He was staying. It was all over. She had a war to get back to, and he… well, he had a brother that wasn't dead, but who needed to learn how to grow a fucking spine. What he had left of one, anyway. And he had a former mother he needed to somehow convince to leave her bughole and move to Jedi home base. He needed to get to work on her now, or he'd never see a Biscuit Baron again.

"You be a good ori'vod to Cassus, alright? And watch your language, he's sensitive."

Boba snorted. "Oh, you noticed?"

"And when you talk to Kaisa, keep in mind what I told you about what I saw in her aura. Her guilt and remorse… that's all genuine. She didn't want to leave you."

Boba looked away. She wouldn't tell him exactly what Kaisa had said, just that she now understood why she'd made that choice and that he should ask her about it. "So, um, there's a long-range communicator at the cantina. It charges by the second, but we can still talk on holocall. If you want." Boba rubbed his wrists anxiously.

"That's why I put my frequency in your commlink, vod'ika." Ahsoka smiled and opened her arms.

Boba dove in and buried his face in her neck, his eyes suddenly stinging. He felt Kaisa's eyes burn a hole in his shoulder blades. Was it jealousy over freely giving Ahsoka affection, or was she afraid he'd kill Cas in his sleep? "Will you come back for my verd'goten?" he asked, hating how whiny his voice sounded.

"There's no telling where the war will take me, but I will do everything I can to make it back, I promise." She purred and rubbed her soft lek against his cheek.

Boba took a deep breath of her weird, spicy pollen scent and tried to commit it to memory for when he already knew he'd feel alone, even with Cas, and for when Kaisa would inevitably try to mommy him.

He didn't want her to go.

"I don't want to either," Ahsoka said quietly into his scalp. "But we have to let go of each other for now. Our paths might divide here, but it's not for forever. We'll always find our way back to each other."

"Fucking sap." He closed his eyes and tried not to cry.

"Comes with the job." She seemed in no hurry to let him go either. She really was too sweet for her own good, tooth-rotting sweet like a—

"Oh shit, right." Boba sniffled and reluctantly pulled back, shoved his hand in his pocket then pulled the tooth out, hidden in his fist. "I found this on Geonosis when I took your belt off. It fell out." He opened his hand and showed her.

Ahsoka stared in pure shock, her jaw hanging down to her chest. "You've gotta be kidding me," she whispered, gently taking it from him. "You've had it this whole time?"

"Yeah. Not on purpose, I just kept forgetting to give it back to you." Boba awkwardly kicked at the damp moss underfoot.

"I—do you know what this is?"

Boba shook his head. "I've never seen that animal before. Must have been big."

Ahsoka bit her lip and closed her fist. "He was pretty big."

Boba stilled and glanced up at her. "He?" he asked sharply, his eyes darting between the tooth in her hand and her face. "That… that's from a sentient?"

"Os'ika," Cody called. "I know it's hard, but wrap it up. We're going to miss our train."

Ahsoka glared at him. "Go ahead without me, I'll catch up!" she called, then gestured with her head for Boba to follow her. Cody and Kenobi shared an exasperated look but began to climb the steep hill in the opposite direction.

She dragged him to the tiarek grove. "Did you kill somebody?" Boba asked, impressed.

"No. I'm not the one who killed him. I'm the one who took his teeth, though." Ahsoka took a deep breath. "My people have a ritual. We don't execute our murderers and rapists. Instead we pull out their teeth one by one before releasing them to wander clanless in the forest."

It was a pretty hardcore punishment, but Shili was a hardcore place. "Nice." Boba nodded.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "This tooth belonged to a Jedi. Pong Krell."

Boba's eyebrows hit his stubbly hairline. "No shit?"

"I don't think that he's been widely reported on in the media, but, uh…" Ahsoka bit her lip. "There was a battle he led on Umbara. Anakin was called away by the Chancellor and Krell was left in charge of the 501st on the ground. I was in orbit, leading the space battle." She swallowed hard and looked down, and Boba saw tears glinting in her eyes. "We had no idea, but Krell wanted to become a Sith, so he was trying to get the attention of Count Dooku by throwing battles, which he did by killing clones. He had casualty rates ten times that of any other battalion. He used them like cannon fodder. His one and only strategy was to overwhelm the battlefield with clones and attack until they completed their mission, no matter how many died. On Umbara, he… he tricked the 501st and 212th into attacking each other by telling both of them that the enemy had stolen clone armor. Over four hundred men were murdered through friendly fire." She looked away, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Fuck." Boba stared at the tooth. "So you ripped his teeth out?"

Ahsoka nodded. "Yeah. Seemed… seemed like the right thing to do."

"You ever see a bayleg?" Boba asked her and glanced up; she shook her head. "It's a huge, scary, dragon-looking fuck. Nasty creature. My dad had me face one, once. Told me to bring him back a tooth."

"Is this a flying lesson?" Boba asked, craning around to look at the jetpack Dad had just snapped onto his back.

"Sort of. Remember those fluffy little chakaare we flew over on the way here?" Dad spritzed him with something that smelled foul. "This is their piss."

"Dad!" Boba squealed, sticking out his tongue and gagging. "Why would you put pee on me?"

"Because they're the prey of the bayleg."

"The what?" Boba squawked. He heard a roar from deeper inside the cave.

Dad handed him a blaster and grinned. "The bayleg. Go bring me a tooth. I'll wait here."

"How old were you?" Ahsoka asked, crossing her arms and frowning.

"Ten." He snickered at her horrified look. "I fucking lived, obviously. But it tried to eat me, and when I came back I was crying like a bitch and asked Dad why he would do that. He told me it was because now I'd faced my own death and knew true fear, so I'd never have a reason to be afraid of anything else." He shook his head. " 'Course he was wrong about that. I'm afraid of all sorts of shit. Some days I think I'd rather be back with the bayleg. But I've been keeping the teeth of monsters ever since. They remind me that I lived, and they died, because I was stronger than them."

"We don't actually keep them. Dogma's the one who stepped up and finally executed Krell. It's for him, for the ceremony once he's back with us, if he wants to do it." Ahsoka untied a small leather pouch from her belt. "They're not trophies to us. The ritual varies among clans and cultures, but the Binishii, my people, we toss them away, usually into a body of water, while singing our grief. No words, just the emotion of it. It's hard to describe without being there." Ahsoka looked up at him sadly. "It's ironic, you know. I forgot too." She put Krell's tooth in her pouch and withdrew a different one, a more humanoid one with a gold filling in it.

"What the—" Boba glanced up at her. "You keep a jar of these somewhere?"

"No," Ahsoka huffed. "Why do people keep assuming I've got a jar? Why would I have a jar?"

"You're the one pulling teeth out," Boba said, taking it from her and examining it. "So whose was this?"

"It's Aurra's."

He dropped it, just like his heart dropped out of his ass and into Corellia's mantle. He dove to his knees and picked it up immediately with shaking hands, staring at it. Now that he actually looked, he knew exactly which tooth it had been; the second-furthest molar on the bottom right. He could still remember what it tasted like when he kissed her. "I… what the f…" He looked up at Ahsoka, feeling dizzy. "Why? When did you take it?"

"Anakin took it, actually." She sank down on her haunches to be at eye level with him. "He thought I could do the ceremony with you."

We don't execute our murderers and rapists. Boba slowly turned the tooth over in his hand.

"But I think you should keep it." Ahsoka closed his hand over the tooth. "My peoples' way is to throw them away, to dispose of them in a lake or a river so that their memory will be washed away from us. Your way, and your father's way, is to keep the teeth of monsters, and to remember so it makes you strong."

Boba stared at it for a few seconds longer, then nodded decisively and put it in his pocket. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He swallowed hard. "Vor entye, ori'vod."

Ahsoka pulled him into a hug and gently pressed her forehead against his in a kov'nyn. "I'm going to miss you," she said quietly, swaying with the breeze. "You're really something else, kid. Thank you for letting me into your life."

"You're not bad." Boba sniffed. "For a Jedi."

"Sure, tough guy." Ahsoka laughed and squeezed him in one last spicy-smelling Togruta hug. "You have to admit, this was unexp—" She suddenly stilled, then tilted her head and clicked with her mouth open. "No way. No, what is he doing here?"

"Who?"

Ahsoka spun, her eyes huge. "Rex?" she squawked, taking off east.

"Are you fucking daft, Tano?" Boba called, jogging after her. "He's on that shitho—oh." No, there was Tiarek, alright, and he had an armful of squealing Togruta rubbing her head all over him and laughing. There was a break in the canopy ahead, and he had put down a Y-Wing neatly in the center of it.

"What are you doing here?" Ahsoka asked once she was back on the ground, blinking like a tooka kit with eyes all shiny from the tears that had popped up when she spoke about Umbara.

Boba took a weary breath. Her teacher had to see this shit all the time, right? Was he okay with it, or was he as stupid as they were?

"The General had a bad feeling. You know the kind. Seeing as you were all out of comm range, he sent me to check in on you." Tiarek yanked Boba into a hug as soon as he was within reach. "You behaving like I told you to?"

"I'm always a fucking delight." Boba closed his eyes and gave the Manda a silent prayer of thanks for letting him say goodbye to his brother one more time. It hurt, knowing that he wasn't going to be seeing him now that he was staying… with…

His heart started pounding and he locked panicked eyes with Ahsoka. "Fuck," they said simultaneously. Tiarek could not go down to that bunker. Kaisa and Cassus were there, and fuck, fuck, this wasn't how he needed to find out—

"What is going on here?" Tiarek asked with a suspicious look.

"Nothing!" Ahsoka said brightly. "Nothing, we were, um, we just forgot something?"

Boba stared at her. Was she lying badly on purpose, or was she that bad at it?

She shot him a look. "We, um, we…"

"She doesn't want you to know that when we first got here, Kaisa sniped at Kenobi and nearly fragged him with a slug," Boba interjected. "Got her all shook up. She knows how protective you all are of your pet wizards."

Tiarek's brows went up. "She almost got General Kenobi?" he asked, turning to her.

Ahsoka nodded solemnly. "He's fine, but she's not very Jedi friendly. It was a hard welcome."

"That's one way of fucking putting it," Boba grumbled, then stilled at the way Ahsoka's eyes had gone perfectly round and black like a porg's.

A sharp whistle sounded from behind them. Boba's heart stopped and he spun to look. "Su'cuy, verd'ika!" Kaisa called out aggressively, her slugthrower butted up against her shoulder, pointed at the ground.

Tiarek immediately put himself in front of them. He took a step forward and snapped into a perfect salute. "CT-7567, Captain Rex of the 501st Clone Battalion, Sergeant," he said briskly, then lowered his hand.

Kaisa dropped the rifle to her waist and stared. "Tiarek?" she asked hesitantly. She put a hand to her chest. "Tiarek… tion'gar kar'tayli ni?"

Tiarek shook his head. "Sorry, Sergeant, early years are a bit fuzzy for me. Got a little too close to a grenade as a cadet."

Boba stared daggers at Kaisa, mindlessly begging the Force that Plo had assured him was in everything that she'd shut up—don't fucking tell him, don't fucking tell him, you have no right, no fucking right—and he felt like he was going to throw up from the way panic was squeezing him. He just knew that if she told him, she'd rip open something that he would never heal from. He'd believed at first that he needed Tiarek to know, needed him to remember but that was before he saw how… fine he was. Boba was lonely, and he thought that Tiarek remembering everything would somehow undo something that they'd lost a decade ago, but Tiarek wasn't torturing himself with the need for answers at night like Boba was. He was fighting a fucking war and watching his vode die on the daily, he didn't need to be haunted by memories of Jango telling him he loved him and trying to murder him on top of it.

Boba was Tiarek's ori'vod long before Cody was in the picture. Back then, it was his job to protect his little brother. It didn't matter who was bigger, Boba was older. He had to watch out for Cassus, now, but that didn't mean he couldn't still protect Tiarek—no, not Tiarek, he had chosen Rex—from this. Boba willed Kaisa to understand that if she said a word, he'd tackle her off the edge of that fucking hill and take them both down to the creek.

Boba could let go of Tiarek, for Rex's sake, and Kaisa would too if she knew what was good for her. He caught Ahsoka's eyes; she looked sad, but nodded in understanding.

Kaisa swallowed hard and gave Boba a small nod. "Wer'cuy," she said in a shaky voice. "I… I before does teaching. I think you before remember me."

"Apologies." He crossed his arms. "So what's this I hear about a sniper shot taken at a High General?"

"Misunderstanding, right?" Boba asked sharply. "She won't do it again."

Kaisa nodded and gave Boba a flat, meek smile. "No. Won't do it again."

Rex harrumphed and turned to Ahsoka. "You're alright, then? Nothing happened that I need to tell the General about?"

"Nope." She gave him a bright smile. "I'm fine, Obi-Wan's fine, everyone's fine."

"If you say so." Rex pulled Boba into a kov'nyn. "Cin vhetin, ner vod," he said quietly. "Don't waste this. Ahsoka worked hard to get you here."

That was a fucking understatement. "I won't," Boba promised Rex.

"Good man." He nodded at Kaisa. "Nice meeting you, Ma'am," he said.

"And you," Kaisa whispered, trying to smile.

"Mind if I hitch a ride to Goran with you?" Ahsoka asked Rex, bumping him with her shoulder.

"Sure, but where's General Kenobi and Cody?"

"Walking back to Bockin proper to catch a turbo-train." Ahsoka shrugged. "But we've got a battle to get to."

Rex chuckled. "I'll brief you on the way there, then." He winked at Boba. "See you around, Boba."

"See you." Boba nodded at him, nearly blind with relief, and Rex turned to go back to the Y-Wing.

Ahsoka pulled Boba into one last, last hug. "This is going to be hard, but I know you can do it," she murmured. "I am so proud of you, Boba, and I am so lucky to know you."

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum. Boba squeezed his eyes shut and memorized the sound of her purr, but didn't dare say the words out loud. He knew she wasn't allowed to say it back. Nothing was forever, that wasn't the stupid fucking Jedi way.

Ahsoka hugged him tighter, and he wondered if she had heard that thought too. "Vercopa gar mar'eyi mirjahaal, ner vod'ika," she said softly, pulling away after one last rub of her soft lek.

Boba took a deep, shaky breath, "K'oyaci, ori'vod." He meant it literally. If she got her shebs blown off by a battledroid after this mess, he'd pay a Nightsister from Dathomir to bind her stupid fucking ghost to a toilet.

Ahsoka's eyes went wide; she'd heard his thought. She threw her head back and laughed. "Never change, Boba." She let Rex put an arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the Y-Wing.

Boba cupped his hands around his mouth. "Oblivioussayswhat?"

Rex turned and squinted at him. "What?" he called back, and Ahsoka clapped a hand over her mouth too late to stop her bark of laughter.

"Use a condom on the ride back, your kids would be fucking ugly!" Boba bellowed right before they closed their cockpits, and he cackled at their identical looks of mortification and their mouths silently bellowing his name.

Rex shook his head and started up the landing sequence. Ahsoka blew him a kiss as they ascended. Boba tracked them until the ship turned into a tiny dot, then stared at the place in the sky where they disappeared until it all went blurry. He felt cold, even though it was so warm and humid that he was sweating through his jacket.

Ahsoka was gone. He was on his own, again.

Or no. No, he had Cassus now, and he was going to be a good ori'vod to him or kill one of them trying.

Kaisa shifted, in clear discomfort from being on her knee. "Ahsoka bal Rex, eh?" she asked with a small smile.

Boba rolled his eyes. Even fucking Kaisa could see they were more than vode, even if they didn't want to acknowledge it, but that didn't mean he wanted to gossip about them with her. "He's her ori'vod, that's all," he said frostily.

Kaisa nodded and her smile faded. "Tion'gar copaani uj'alayi?" she asked him timidly. "Fresh. I make, not Pinky."

Boba looked at her sideways. "Let's get one thing straight," he said. "You're not my mother anymore. I am here for my brother, not for you. I know we have a lot of shit to talk about, but right now I'm not up to it. I'm going to go to my room, take a nap, and nobody's going to bother me. I don't want fucking Five Nights at Flimpo's down there stalking me, or any of the other droids spying on me. Leave me be. That's all I want from you."

Kaisa nodded and looked away. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, Boba," she said softly. "Darasuum."

"Yeah, that's great. I'm still not fucking calling you Mama." Boba stalked past her and down the hill, his hand throbbing. He'd squeezed the tooth so tight that he'd drawn blood with its razor sharp roots. Awesome. He was off to a great fucking start.

He strode over to Cassus, who had parked his hoverchair at the top of the ramp and was casting something onto a set of knitting needles. Buddy was perched on the back of his chair, playing soft quetarra music. "Are they gone?" Cas asked, his hands still making complicated loops around a needle while he looked at Boba.

"Yeah." The song sounded familiar, like an old memory, but he couldn't place it. Boba swallowed hard and tried to breathe normally. "I'm gonna lay down for a bit, alright? I'll see you at dinner."

"Alright. Gotika made your bed up." Cas looked back down at his knitting and started humming along with Buddy's music.

Boba jogged to his room and locked the door behind him. He looked around. It was plain, with just an empty wardrobe, an armor stand with his beskar carefully displayed, and a bed of white linens with a blanket made out of a hundred crocheted squares laid over the top. Robert the Rancor and the silver tooka doll had been placed together on the pillow.

He kicked off his boots and laid down on his new bed, facing away from the beskar, and let loose a muffled sob into Robert's belly.

Cody checked his chronometer and let out an uncharacteristic growl. "Sir, you go on ahead. I'll run back and make sure Os'ika didn't fall in a hole."

Obi-Wan bit down a laugh. "Cody, you are aware that I know what that nickname means, correct?" he asked.

Cody met his eyes shamelessly. "Is it inaccurate?" he asked dryly.

"Not in the slightest." They both snickered, and Obi-Wan's commlink blinked with an incoming transmission. He raised an eyebrow and opened the channel.

"Master, you're never going to believe who I ran into," Ahsoka said wryly.

Cody leaned in. "In the backwoods of Corellia? We know for sure that all that poison's out of your system, right? You're not snuggled up to a mother nexu in a den somewhere?"

Ahsoka laughed. "Oh, he's definitely a mother nexu."

"Very funny, Commander," a familiar, disgruntled voice said.

Obi-Wan and Cody both did a double take at his wrist. "Rex?" Cody asked incredulously. "What the heck are you doing all the way out here?"

"General Skywalker had a bad feeling. Sent me to check it out."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Of course he did," he said wearily. "And I suppose simply sending a message to us was out of the question?"

"To be fair, Sir, you were out of range." Rex sounded like he was smiling.

"Did you…" Cody cleared his throat and met Obi-Wan's eyes nervously. "Did you meet Kaisa?"

"Yes. She seemed nice enough, though more timid than I expected for a Mando."

Cody almost choked. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice squeaking comically. "Did she say anything to you?"

"Besides hello?" Rex asked. "Not really?"

"Oh." Cody looked relieved.

"Is it true she shot you, General?"

"Why would Boba lie about her shooting Obi-Wan?" Ahsoka snipped.

"I didn't say he lied, I'm only asking."

Obi-Wan could almost hear Rex's eyes rolling. "A misunderstanding, Captain, no worries," he assured him. "Boba will be perfectly safe with her."

"If you say so, Sir."

"I'm hitching a ride to Goran with Rex, Master. I'll see you soon."

"Are you leaving now?" Obi-Wan asked, dismayed.

"My instructions were to join Skyguy as soon as I returned to the Temple, Master," she reminded him.

"Yes, but…" Obi-Wan stopped, pulled himself together and stopped trying to argue his illogical case. "Yes, that makes sense for you to skip the trip back to Coruscant. Very well. Be careful on Goran, Padawan. May the Force be with you."

"And you, Master." Ahsoka disconnected the channel, and moments later Obi-Wan felt her Force signature fade as she presumably entered hyperspace.

Cody frowned. "Well, that was… abrupt."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan pulled his cloak around him and tried not to visibly sulk. "Let's keep moving, then."

"Yes, Sir." Cody was clearly unhappy, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he walked. They walked in silence while Obi-Wan stared at the ground and brooded. Something had changed after he'd apologized to her. She'd not broken their bond, nothing so dramatic as that, but it was different. Lighter, in a way, though that didn't make sense. It had never felt like a weight before, but now he keenly felt a new absence, rather like an overdue haircut that was shorter than desired.

"Give her a bit more time, Sir," Cody said after a few minutes of listening to only the starry-leaved strings of leaves whip in the wind and a convor that occasionally hooted sadly overhead. "She'll come around."

"She has come around, Commander," he said pleasantly. "This is what that looks like."

Cody clearly didn't like that answer, and his unease thickened the Force around him. He was far too used to coming up with a solution to any problem that came his way. "I… expected this to end differently, I think," he admitted.

So had Obi-Wan, though he'd never admit it. "How so?" he asked Cody anyway.

"I suppose I expected the two of you to have a go at each other, but then go on as you always have. Not sure I like the way this is turning out."

Obi-Wan patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Ahsoka and I will always hold deep affection for one another," he reassured him. "But nothing is permanent except the Force. We have both become unduly attached to who we were to one another. It's best that we both let go and move on."

Cody huffed, still displeased. "Are you sure, Sir?"

"We must, for her sake," Obi-Wan answered blithely. "She cannot heal unless we do. Unfortunately, my deception has had longer-lasting repercussions than I anticipated." He never would have agreed to the Rako Hardeen mission if he had known the real cost.

Cody frowned. "Seems a bit… extreme, is all."

"It isn't. It is the foundation of our beliefs, after all. We must not allow ourselves to become so attached to the past that it impacts our future." It was the truth, so why did it hurt so badly? Obi-Wan had told Mace that he understood that his actions had consequences, but he hadn't anticipated that the consequences would be… so permanent.

Ahsoka forgave everyone everything. She couldn't help it, it was part of her nature. She could feel when one's remorse was genuine and she always, always capitulated, but she hadn't in this case and he had no one but himself to blame. She would grant a blank slate to everyone except for him, but their slate was far too full to be wiped clean. A lifetime of memories had been etched past its surface and into the foundation beneath.

Their slate needed to be discarded entirely and started anew, and so he would. He would do whatever Ahsoka needed to be able to heal. No matter what words he chose, nothing seemed to stop the bleeding. Clinging to her even harder had done nothing but left new bruises behind, so now he would do the opposite. He would let her go for her own peace. His attachment to her was the shrapnel in the wound causing it to fester, the broken thread causing the whole tapestry to unravel.

Kyber did not shatter as easily as Kaisa Skirata seemed to believe, and a real buir knew that sometimes one had to let their child go, especially when holding onto them would harm them far more than help.

"Bo-bi," Ahsoka said with a quivering lip and eyes almost completely swallowed up by her pupils. She waved at Obi-Wan over Plo's shoulder as he walked away. "Bo-bi!" They turned the corner and were gone.

They broke the treeline, and Obi-Wan could see the train station just ahead. "I've been meaning to ask you, Sir, what does mo nighean mean?" Cody asked.

"My girl," Obi-Wan answered with a smile he didn't feel. He didn't tell him that it also meant daughter.

Notes:

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS Ori/vod/ika: big/brother/little Dar'buir: no longer parent. Essentially a parental divorce/disownment Udesii: calm, easy Cas'ika: Little Cas Gotika: Little Machine Jango nari taabi'an: Jango is marching (marching being a metaphor for the afterlife) Elek/ 'lek: Yes Ba'vodu: Uncle Buir/e: Parent/Parents Aliit orshya tal'din: Family is more than blood Haat'la Mando'ade: True Mandalorians, a mercenary group composed of mainly former Mandalorian royal soldiers formed by Jaster Mereel, who was considered rightful king (Mand'alor) of Mandalore. Jango took over leadership (and possession of the darksaber!) after Jaster's death Kih'ad: small child (ad'ika is the more cutesy and commonly used term) Gotaliise: Gotal people Kaminiise: Kaminoans Ner sen'tra: My jetpack Goteni muun'lan: Laying an egg Traciyam: stove Jetiise: Jedi (plural) Tiingilar: Spicy Mandalorian stew Ad'ikase: Children Ner ad'ika, ni ceta, ner kar'ta: My baby, I'm so sorry, my heart Kaysh vode: His brothers Reks'ika: Little Tiarek (s added for ease of saying, as otherwise it would be a hard stop in the center of the word) Shabla kaminiise: Fucking Kaminoans Sa'johaa: Metaphor Verd'goten: Mandalorian rite of passage into adulthood, usually done at 13 Cin'vetin: Fresh start (literally fresh snow on a field) Karyai: Large central living chamber of a traditional Mandalorian home Os'ika: Little shit, a pun on the normal diminuative of Ahsoka, Ahs'ika Chakaare: Assholes Vor entye: Thank you Kov'nyn: headbutt Su'cuy: Hi Tion'gar kar'tayli ni: Do you know me? Wer'cuy: It was ages ago Ni kar'tayli darasuum: I love you/I hold you in my heart forever Vercopa gar mar'eyi mirjahaal: May you find peace of mind K'oyaci: Stay alive Bal: and Tion'gar copaani uj'alayi: Do you want some uj cake? MAOR-GRASTA TRANSLATIONS Mo nighean: my girl/daughter OTHER NOTES GIRL YOU'RE NOT EXPENDABLE BOBI LOVES YOU HE ALMOST STRAIGHT UP MURDERED SOMEONE FOR YOU AHHHHH *is dragged off stage by a comically large shepherd's hook*

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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rexaleph · 6 months

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Fruit pt 1 lmao

Back when I was first getting into perfume my assumptions around what was gonna work for me were in the vein of traditional men's fragrances from like when I was a kid and vague ideas around freshness and perhaps coniferous woods. However I'd come across a discussion of Byredo's Pulp and the way people spoke of it as this super strange, polarising, borderline unwearable art piece got me interested, so I tossed a sample of that into my cart, intrigued but expecting not to get it. Ofc I fell in love instantly. It was in fact the only fragrance I ended up liking out of everything I picked going by vibes and word associations, probably bc all of the others smelled of air freshener for the car. So i was like ok, it's fruit for me now, I am a fruit perfume person, and have looked p widely into that fragrance family since. Fig was always a note i was interested in bc it is allegedly central to Pulp, and its plant-like, soft-green juiciness is attractive to me in concept. However! As i started looking towards shifting my lifestyle away from a million samples and decants into a small number of truly beloved bottles, I came to the realization that the only even fruit adjacent thing I was immediately interested in having in a large volume is the fucking grapefruit cologne from Zara. And they don't even usually count citruses as a fruit! So fruit ended up not being my thing in practice, but the thought of it still haunts me. I feel like there should be a fruit for me out there. So i want to spend some time thinking abt the fruity scents that I've tried and maybe figure out where to go from here. I am about to get deeply weird once again.

So to start at the beginning - Pulp by Byredo.

Byredo is a brand with a deeply unappealing aesthetic. When I picture their bottles it is on a glass and gold tray in an influencer's white interior and that is not something I want to associate myself with. But given that the first perfume I fell in love with was one of theirs, I still pay attention to their line.

So Pulp is a very intense, tart, barely sweet fruit. The haters have often said that the fruit smell is fermented and rotten, but I perceive it to be on the other end of the sour fruit spectrum - green and underripe. It suggests maybe an inedibly hard pear. Another major feature - I keep saying "fruit" without specifying, because I struggle to discern anything particular. People will say apple, blackcurrant, citrus, fig. I do perceive the intense opening blackcurrant and maybe apple. Besides the that I get cedarwood, and i guess that woody-green-sweet effect could be a fig note. Pulp does not feel like it evolves much as it wears, but what it does is first fill the space around itself and then settle within minutes, which I think is a quality created by like carrier molecules. (I know of iso e super, which allegedly improves longevity but that would be the opposite effect i think, though i feel like it's in here as well. What i experience w Pulp feels like theres sth that increases volatility, momentarily dragging scent molecules into the air w it. Or theres just a lot of the cassis top note ingredient and much of it evaporates off quickly.)

This room-filling effect is what brings me to the haters' 2nd point that sticks in my mind: Pulp is less like a perfume for a person to wear and more of a large scale air freshener, not even for your home, but for hotel lobbies and shopping malls. And I think this is how I ended up feeling about Pulp - beautiful scent, but I don't want to wear it. There are other perfumes in this post I consider unperfumelike and don't want to wear for their industrial chemical quality, but those actually smell bad to me. I'm not generally concerned w wearability (outside of like not wearing strong or irritating things where people will be forced close to me), I don't think of perfume in terms of daytime vs evening or seasonality, but there is something about Pulp, however much I like it in theory, that makes it unwearable to me. Like whatever I'm looking to wear, be it sweet, fresh, complex, natural-produce-like, loud - Pulp is never the answer. I think what drew me in at first was it's brightnness and intensity, and how different it was from any perfume i had experienced before. I'm wearing it now and it is still impressive, mostly a powerful, mouthwatering blackcurrant; leaves, berries and wood sap. There's another strong natutalistic plant perfume I love - Vetiver Extraordinaire by Frederic Malle. I tried to articulate the vibe i get from it as "you can't fuck me, I'm a tree". Which, I love that for a cold deciduous tree trunk you can't get your arms around. To me right now Pulp also has a strong you can't fuck me aura, though I used to think of it as insanely attractive (the mouth-watering aspect, confusing different kinds of intense sensuality). But i guess being high-pitched, juicy and ultimately friendly and food-like, this is not the unfathomable remote unfuckability of nature; "you can't fuck me i'm covered in berries" is not sth i want to embody. I used to really love the idea of scent-as-art in a vacuum, but now I probably am more concerned with what a perfume can do to create me as i present myself to the world. That mostly excludes unpolishedly naturalistic plants at this point. (Btw a 20 y o coworker who is just starting to get into perfume told me that someone introduced him to Pulp and he loved it so much! It is a good entry point to unisex niche perfume - beautiful, approachable but characterful, different from most designer scents, especially as marketed to men. I'd probably still it like very much on someone else.)

Having spent 4 notes app pages on Pulp I'll be brief on the fruit shampoo types: Kirke by Tiziana Terenzi, Antigua by Phaedon, Eau de Rhubarbe by Hermes, Sirio by Mendittorosa, I wanna say Cedrat Boise by Mancera. The widely recommended fruity one by Mancera anyway. So turns out banana flavored candy isn't weird bc it's based on an extinct breed, it just uses a single flavor compound out of the bouquet found in real bananas, so the flavor comes off distorted. This is I think what people mean when they use "synthetic" as a criticism in perfume. I assume that for shampoo they mix individually made molecules, which is what causes unnatural-seeming compositions, even if the ingredients themselves aren't in any way worse by being synthetic. All the above fragrances have that screechy, fruit-scented toiletries/household chemicals vibe to me, plus Kirke and Antigua at least have some kinda sickly musk note that I don't get along with. I've also encountered it in a number of of woody-fresh cologne type scents. So these fragrances are all widely beloved (except maybe the Mendittorosa on account of being less well known), I think because of what I outlined with Pulp - they're bright and friendly but still fairly unusual. Common notes i believe are lychee or rhubarb - tart, juicy and sweet, which I guess is what most people look for in this type of fragrance. I'm just particularly sensitive to their type of dissonance. Eau de Rhubarbe i think is the most successful one of these - only inelegant, but for the most part I find them fully unpleasant.

Speaking of unpleasant, let me briefly return to Byredo. Mixed Emotions vs Amouage Jubilation XXV

So after my first unsuccessful run at Amouage with the florals I held off on trying their big iconic scent for years. The way people spoke of Jubilation it's this amazing layered masterpiece of resins, woods and fruit, meant for like distinguished gentlemen. Obviously I never felt like I could pull it off, but earlier this year I decided to have another go at Amouage as well as figure out fruit, so I finally tried it out. And yeah it's alright. I think what I'm realizing is that these niche fragrances massively popular among men are always gonna be on the safe side, but spoken of as hugely transgressive bc they smell a little bit outside of menthol shaving foam. Jubilation is soft, deep, smooth and resinous, with like an overtone of sweet-spicy toothpaste freshness I'd put down to blackberry, orange zest and tarragon. Very attractive, would not feel incongruous on any age or gender, for sure not a mature man kinda scent. I went on two week-long trips within a month in August/September and wore it throughout for like professional and leasure occasions and it never felt out of place, I never wanted for anything else. Dudes online are big mad abt alleged weak reformulations, idk abt that, however I will say it is kinda subtle and I wouldnt pay Amouage money for it.

So given that 15 years ago Amouage came out with this hugely popular cult hit, why would Byredo in 2021 make basically the same thing but worse? Black currant for blackberry and birch smoke and mate for all the woods and resins, Mixed Emotions to me is just a loud, unbalanced version of Jubilation, though idk that i've seen anyone else make the comparison. It's very northern forest, tree sap and berries, which is kind of an obvious combination and doesn't make it feel less heavy-handed. Junk by Lush feels adjacent, which is not a compliment. A recurring review phrase is cough syrup. The fruit is scratchy and cloying, overconcentrated. I kept trying to get myself to like Mixed Emotions, but given that it feels like basically a worse version of something that's just pretty nice but not worth the money, it's probably time to give up on her.

So do I hate a scratchy, cloying preserve-like fruit? Not necessarily.

Mendittorosa Rituale

I am a mark for Mendittorosa. I feel like i can still tell when they really don't work for me, but I probably exaggerate how special the ones i do like are. Anyway.

The vibe is nectar: flowers, blackcurrant, pomegranate, raspberry, honey, beeswax. Its heavy and sweet while having a rough scratchy quality (down to beeswax, patchouli and hyrax I'd guess) that can give gourmands a real kitchen-y feel. Mugler AMen has that imo, as well as El Born by Carner Barcelona, both of which suggest rustic dessert to me. Rituale is not really like them them with its big heady floral and fruit elements but that effect is the same. It's like when you have a very sweet pastry with black coffe. Rituale puts me in mind of traditional desserts that use preserves, honey and rose water in a way that doesnt get along with my modern milk chocolate sour gummy palette, so it is a little bit challenging. Going off the notes alone, I was very excited but also apprehensive about this one, I expected it to be either breathtakingly beautiful or just fully disgusting. Especially lavender can really fuck things up for me when it goes nauseating soapy-sweet potpourri. And some of that is there: i notice the lavender and the whole composition teeters on the edge of sickly, but never quite goes there. The actual flowers throughout its middle stage (rose, jasmine, narcissus, what do daffodils even smell like?) give me this high-summer orchard honey bee fantasy. Raspberry is i think the most prominent opening impression, maybe pomegranate, quickly overtaken by floral honey. That's probably the way to discuss the florals in here - not flowers but the way e.g. linden honey can smell of flowers & pollen. Beeswax is also discernible from the very beginning. As it sits and the fruit recedes it goes from nectar fantasy to complex rosewater dessert while always maintaining that little bit of low-pitched roughness you usually get with honey fragrances, just enough to keep things interesting. It's all a whole lot. The very end is a rounder mellower sweetness, feels like vanilla to my nose, but might be some combination of the woods, resins and beeswax. I wish I perceived more of the hyrax, some people complain about it being crazy animalic and i just don’t get that at all unfortunately. I love dirty animal shit :( On the other hand it already has borderline too much going on.

If Mendittorosa made small beautiful bottles Rituale would be a no-brainer to get. It is a very special combination of rich and opulent while also consisting of what to me reads as basically all food-like botanical notes. Real nectar and ambrosia vibes. Very different from those fresh effervescent unisex fruits, a very cool take on the genre imo. And like, yeah, if I'm so bored of fruits, maybe my one fruit perfume to have should be the one that's unlike any of the others. But even with this one, I'm not sure that I want to smell like this! There is again an air of botanical unfuckability about this one that makes it a little emotionally confusing. Not sure what mood I'd want it for, especially if we're talking about getting a bit expensive bottle. I think I wore it for my 29th or 30th birthday, she's festive and attention-grabbing but doesn't necessarily make me feel attractive. One idea I'm holding out for is that if I tried it from an atomizer instead of the shitty dabbing wand sample and got a more accurate idea of how it wears from the bottle, there would be more hyrax and that'd swing it into something more obviously my style. As is it may or may not be my one fruit but for sure points to some directions to continue thinking in.

Putting here so I don't forget my other fruits to discuss: Un Jardin sur le Nil, Pomegranate Noir, Wilde, Bitter Peach, Peau de Peche. And then the figs.

#perfume #long post #loooooong post lmao #cut it in half so it won't be too annoying to scroll past #and turns out i didn't have notes on any of the others anyway

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