#Exit Mundi

[hapless-haunted]

This isn't direct action, I suppose I approach the whole concept Riddled with woes. I divine her conscience Each time I follow her eyes. A humorless prophet, Humorless prophet.

She's drawn out the ghost of a plan, Running three races with the selfsame vigor. While they've got her in the palm of their hands, She's resolute. She's going to break some fingers.

The full-stopper, the comeback king, The taste of bitterest gravity. She grips the knife, unsteady as she rises. Each time, I follow her eyes To the horizon.

It's here we find idyllic won't last. So sick of the eggshells She'll sprint on broken glass.

This isn't direct action, I suppose I approach the whole concept Riddled with woes. I divine her conscience Each time I follow her eyes. A humorless prophet, Humorless prophet.

She's got her reasons, she's got a ruse. I see the mark of every abuse. Put to the torch until she's permanently cautious. Each time, I follow her eyes It's where she's rawest.

She has hard truths for dinner. Suppose it's easy when you're bitter. Withdraws like low tide into solitude. In the end she'll do what she has to do.

There in the glow in the afterdark, Words spun silk, held, and hit the mark. Hand over hand, she's firm in her promise. Each time, I follow her eyes It's where she’s honest. (H.H)

#poem #poetry #writing #spilled ink #storytelling #songwriting #Exit Mundi #Maim Arcade

[biglisbonnews]

NASA monitoring asteroid with 1 in 625 chance of hitting Earth on Valentine's Day 2046 2023 DW, first spotted in February, is unlikely to hit Earth on Valentine's Day 2046. But it's been added to NASA's official "risk list" of potential collisions. At 50 meters wide, the same size as the body suspected in the Tunguska Event, it would certainly be quite the romance. — Read the rest https://boingboing.net/2023/03/10/nasa-monitoring-asteroid-with-1-in-625-chance-of-hitting-earth-on-valentines-day-2042.html

#Post #astroids #exit mundi #Space #Rob Beschizza #Boing Boing

[pax-cruento]

HEY, BROTHER. CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!!! I SHOWED THE MISSUS AND HER MIND WAS BLOWN TO KINGDOM FUCKING COME!!! HELL YEAH I GOT THAT BEAST GOING A A A AWOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

#end of world #exit mundi #apocalypse #armageddon #disaster #the end

[hairmetal666]

It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.

On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.

They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.

The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.

They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.

"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.

He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.

Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.

The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.

"Can we talk?"

Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."

Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."

"Enlighten me, Harrington."

"C'mon, man, the notes!"

"What about them?

"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"

Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."

He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.

"I've always known it was you," he says.

"You don't--wait what?"

I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."

"How??"

"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"

And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.

"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).

He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.

Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.

Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.

Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.

All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.

This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.

"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.

"Babysitting?

"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.

A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.

(Part 2)

(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #sort of #sorry this is so long #it's going to be a series now #i already have parts 2 and 3 planned out #slow burn #sort of enemies to friends to lovers #season 2 au #eddie and steve are friends #note passing #robin buckley and steve harrington are friends pre season 3 #stobin #steddie fic #eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington #dubious understanding of dnd #canon divergent au

[jermer10]

i really liked your yandere sniper! could you do a oneshot? fluff or smut is fine and you don't have to do it :) -

TF2 yandere sniper smut oneshot

18+ only, afab reader | thank you so much for the ask anon!!!! i am NOT the best at yandere, but i put my heart n soul into this for u <3

tw: sexual content, somnophilia, stalking, yandere, noncon that turns consensual, hunt/prey dynamic, kidnapping

drabbles under the cut :P

He could stare at you for hours. Hours, and hours, and hours. You were pristine, soft, clean. You keep yourself looking good for him, he knows it. He sees the way you strip to nothing in your room, tits bouncing as you squeeze into your cute little pyjamas. You lived with your curtains wide open, something he had a love-hate relationship with. How many other men sat in the apartment across the street, staring at your figure through the scope of a gun? Probably not many, but the thought still enraged him. Mundy wanted you all to himself, he wanted to earn you, to indulge in the hunt. He didn't want you to gift yourself to him, not like you had to the other people in your life. He amount of people he killed for you, for less than cheap sex, for less than treating you shitty. For less than a dirty look.

Tonight was the night he was going to win you. He had begun to make himself known, lingering too long in your peripheral vision, becoming sloppy when exploring your apartment, leaving your window open, using your shower. He reveled in the way you begun to take precautions, and the way he had managed to avoid getting caught. You setup cameras, looked over your shoulder more often, made sure to check your locks multiple times. Tonight, it would all become worth something. He knew you were asleep, 2 years of monitoring you and he was certain of your sleeping patterns. The window slid with ease, you had likely forgotten to lock it, but to him this was a sign of surrender.

Mundy entered your room swiftly and quietly, making sure he had left the window opened slightly. If you did awake, he would need a quick exit strategy. He couldn't bring it to himself to kill you, so getting caught and running away whilst you were still in a groggy state was preferable. The smell of perfume hit him first. Then the feeling of the carpet beneath this shoes. Then the sight of you. Your face was scrunched in a sort of desperate, needy way. Eyes shut tight, hips grinding into the pillow between your legs. His cock stood at full attention, uncomfortably rubbing against the fabric of his pants. He wondered if you were dreaming about him? He wondered if the excitement of having a stalker ever turned you on? He crept behind you, sliding his pants down to his ankles, pulling his throbbing dick out from his boxer shorts.

He spat in his hand, and began to stroke the length. It was all too exciting for him, his breath came out short and hot, light sighs and moans extruded from his throat. This wasn't the first time he had masturbated over your sleeping form, but it was the first where he had the intention of fucking you. Precum dribbled from his dick into his hand, which he used as lube. He didn't typically enjoy edging himself, but the thought of finally being able to feel you wrap around him almost pushed him over. He had to regain his composure, cock twitching in dissatisfaction. "Lucky fuckin' pillow..." He mumbled annoyed, listening intently to your quiet moans. He was sure you were close, he had to act fast.

The creaking of the bed under his added weight should have been enough alone to wake you. He cringed at the sound, but your moans did not cease. Mundy almost ripped your shorts off of you in anticipation, the sight of your bare pussy up close could have made him cum then and there if not for his unwavering determination to fuck you. You were already slick with wetness, and Mundy was sick of waiting. He slid his length in, one hand on his cock and the other on your hip, slowly and deliberately. You stirred, mewling as he stretched you open. You felt so gummy, so tight around him. Mundy couldn't take it, this was his one chance and he wasn't going to waste it. He thrust into you sharply, you cried out. It was a wonder how you were still sleeping during this, he considered it a miracle.

Well, he knew you weren't going to be asleep for long. He thrust into you a second time, cock spasming at the sound of your throaty moans. Then again, and again, and again. He couldn't hold back, hands ravaging your body. He laid behind you, on his side, and as uncomfortable the position was, he didn't care. Mundy was pussy drunk, unrelenting and cruel. You shortly awoke, feeling his hands gripping onto your tits and the feeling of his dick rearranging your guts. You wanted to scream, to cry, to fight off the man behind you. You knew it was him, your stalker. But a part of you found the whole ordeal....exciting. More exciting than any mentally sound person should.

Mundy didn't notice you, and if he did, he didn't seem to care. He drove into you, the feeling was unbearably harsh, you were unbearably warm, you were in pain, and yet it all felt so good. Moans drawn from your already sore throat, your hands gripped the side of the bed and your eyes squeezed shut as you began to hit your orgasm. A low, reverberating moan from the stranger behind you and you were undone, walls spasming around his cock, a high pitched squeal emitting from you. Your breathing was heavy, exhausted. Mundy came shortly after, pulling out and spilling onto your back and bedsheets.

You were an even better fuck than he could have imagined, how could he bear to let anyone else experience you this way? To let anyone else have you? And so, a calculated decision was made. You awoke in a room you had never seen before, arms and legs bound to a beam in the middle of the cold, plain room. A stranger walked in, no, not a stranger, it was him.

#tf2 #ask #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 sniper #tf2 yandere #tf2 sniper yandere #yandere tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #jermer10

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

I have an idea, can you do a drabble of yandere sniper x reader? Like sniper spotted the reader when he is about to kill someone and instantly fell for her. He stalked her and kidnapped her, keeping her locked within his camper van. And hopefully, add in that the reader has stockholm syndrome and fell for him right back.

This idea had been boiling in my head for a while now.

A/N: This is such a yummy idea. Please take me and hide me in your van, Sniper

Mine, All mine.

Yan!Sniper x F!reader

CW: Kidnapping, Light torture(?), teasing, shooting/mentions of shooting, (some) Non-con aspects, blood mentions, language, loss of virginity, begging.

There is quite a long sex scene in this so.. uh yeah

You were the newest member of the RED team. They hadn’t really gotten around to getting your clone set up for BLU yet so there was just one of you. Which, only made you even more enticing. You ran into battle, screaming loudly as you began to violently tear apart the opposing team. Taking knives to their throats, snapping necks and shooting holes through their torso’s. The blood of the falling team members painting your face rather beautifully. Sniper noticed this, watching you through the scope of his rifle. Aiming just enough beside you and suddenly shooting a bullet. Effectively killing one of your team members. Making their head into a fine red mist. You look up and noticed the glare from his scope before he moved to hide. You only scowled and ran finished the battle, continuing to slaughter the opposing team for the remaining time. After the battle was finished you went to leave and clean up but Sniper stopped you just before you left the battlefield.

“Hey, Shelia.- he paused “What’s your name?” he stood tall, his rough hand resting on your shoulder.

“Why? Who wants to know?” you shot back aggressively.

“Well, I would. names Mick Mundy. I’m the teams Sniper.” he flashed a toothy grin at you.

“Y/n.” You muttered

“We aren’t on the same team im guessing. I’ve never seen you here before.”

You nodded “Couldn’t guess by the uniforms?” you laughed and cocked an eyebrow. “They haven’t gotten around to making my clone yet, so it’s just me.”

He smirked “One of a kind, huh?”

You nodded and pulled away from his grip as you walked away “See you around, maybe next time I’ll be the one whizzing a bullet past your head, hmm?”

He only smirked and chuckled as he watched you walked away. Admiring your figure and thinking of all the things he’d like to do to you. He shook his head and regained his train of thought before walking back to his van.

This continued for a few more days. Just silently watching you. From anywhere he could. Your teams base, your room, during battles, you name it. He just watched you. Soon a growing need began to form deep inside of him. Everyday felt the same. Same routine of trying to conjure up a plan on how to get you all alone. Like a jaguar stalking its prey before the strike. Yet, this one day in particular felt slightly different. He had finally formed a plan in his mind on *how* he could get you all to himself. Just to him. No one else.

He carried his gun to his van, waiting behind a wall. Lurking in the shadows as you walked out of the battle field and towards the exit. He pounced on you. A bowie knife to your throat as his other hand covered your mouth tightly. “Not a peep. Respawn doesn’t work outside of the battle field, Sheila and I have no problem with slicing that pretty throat of yours, and wouldn’t want that now would we?”

You looked at him the best you could with wide eyes and shook your head rapidly. He didn’t look like the type of person to make this kind of threat up.

“Good girl.” He nudged you to walk forward. Knife still to your throat as you walked up to a camper van. You were frightened. He instructed you to pull the door open and you did as you were told. He guided you inside the van and you stood there. Not making a sound.

“You try to leave and I’ll find you, Y/n. You’re staying here. With me. Understand that?” You began to cry as he locked the door, tucking a key into his vest pocket and sitting down to clean his gun and knife.

“Please.. why are you doing this, I didn’t mean any of that stuff I said.” You said through frightened tears as you looked around, noticing the jars of liquid, weapons and snuffed out cigarettes that littered the van which only fueled your rage and terror.

It was obvious that he had not been with a woman for some time and it finally started to get him. “Not about that.” He mumbled “Then what can I do. Please, just don’t keep me here” you dropped to moved to him more and dropped to your knees as you begged and cried. He just shrugged. You gripped onto his leg. He was still unbothered as he cleaned his gun.

“Look, roo.” He moved his hand to your chin “It’s dangerous out there. The last thing I want to happen to a pretty girl like you is to get yourself hurt or worse, getting stuck in that god forsaken respawn machine.” He looked away and let go of you “I’m doing this for you.”

You stood up and glared at him with disgust and. “Fuck off. You’re a psycho” he just hummed. Showing he acknowledged your statement. You moved to him and smacked him hard across his face. His glasses shifting off the bridge of his nose.. He shot you a glare. Then, stood up and fixed his glasses while holding his gun. “Not a good idea to hit someone with a gun, sweetheart.” He moved to you as you backed up and swept your feet from beneath you. He aimed the barrel against your forehead and your tears began to flow again. Harder this time as you tried to breath through the shock.

“No” you gasped “No, no! Wait I.. I was just scared.” You moved to hold his leg tightly again “S..Sniper”

He interrupted your pleads. Still holding the gun to your head. “Mick.”

You nodded “Mick.” You looked up at him with red cheeks and wet eyes. “I’m sorry, please forgive me! I.. I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

He fixed his aim. The sound of the gun movie sending a shiver of fear down your spine “Hmm. I don’t know, babe.” He tapped the battle gently against your head some “You promise?”

You nodded the best you could and gripped him tightly “Yes! Yes, oh god.. I promise! I swear!”

He just smirked “Beg for it.”

Was he seriously asking you to beg for your life right now?? How crazy is this sick motherfucker!?

Your tears flowed heavier as they wet his pant leg and you began to hyperventilate through sentences “Please Mick! Please don’t kill, Anything but that! I.. I love you too much! I want to love you forever! Please don’t take that from me!”

He smiled and removed the gun. replacing it with his hand “Good little girl.” He pulled his leg away from you aggressively and moved to sit back down. You fell forward onto your palms when he took your support away. He patted the bed. “Let’s lay down.” You nodded and moved cautiously to lay on the bed next to him. He gripped you tightly against his chest and you listened intently to his heartbeat. It was the only soothing thing about this whole situation. “Tomorrow I’ll go out and get you some new clothes” he said as he tugged at your shirt. You just nodded and sighed against him. He began to rub gently circles against your back but you were far too scared to fall asleep fully, however this was helping you rest your eyes for a bit.

Before you knew it, it was morning once again. “Wake up, roo.” He tugged you. You sat up and rubbed your eyes. “You’re sitting up front with me. Can’t have you trying to break down the door or a window while I’m driving.” He opened the door and held your wrist tightly. Opening the door to the main party of the van as you climbed in and sat eerily still. “Is my girl hungry” you shook your head silently. How could you be in a situation like this? He sighed and looked at you. You mumbled, scared you did something he didn’t like “What? What’s wrong, Mundy” you said hoping to tug gently at his heart strings. “Are you scared” what kind of question is that?? Yes of course you are.. but you lied. Afraid to say something to upset him “No, not at all” you leaned against him. He smiled and held you close “Good.”

Time skip (I’m lazy)

After you made it to the clothing store he purchased wonderful, new matching sets of bras and panties for you.. too bad noone was going to see them but him. Once he took you back to the van he drove to an empty area. Pushing you gently into the back of the van and locking the door behind him. “Try em on” he commanded. “In.. in front of you?” You asked. He nodded and leaned against the wall. You were hesitant at first but began to take your clothing off. He pulled out a matching set and tossed it to you “That one” he watched hungrily as you stripped fully and finally laid bare in front of him. He chuckled as you shivered and began to slip the panties and bra on. “You look so good, Sheila.” He said as he made his way to you and peppered your neck in kisses. Pulling you closer to him by your waist. You wanted to resist but you we’re unsure if he’d even listen at this point. He bit down harshly onto your neck and it sent a shiver down your spine, maybe you’d like it. Might as well try to enjoy something in this wretched situation. You leaned against the touch. Whimpering at the pain from his teeth.

“What’s my baby want me to do, hmm”

“I.. I’m not sure” you mumbled out

He moved his hands to the curves of your waist, then your hips as he gently squeezed and moved to tease you through the panties. You squirmed instinctively and clenched your thighs “Seems like I can guess a few things” he pushed you gently onto the bed. He took his hat and glasses off and set them on a nearby counter as he leaned over you. He continued to kiss your neck, he shoved two of his thick fingers into your mouth and pulled your panties to the side. Slipping his thick finger up your slit and he began to tease your clit. Gently rubbing circles as you whimpered. Once he got bored with that he moved to your hole. Slipping one finger in and curling it. You gripped his arm and held it tightly. Moans and whimpers escaping your lips as he worked you open, “That’s right, keep making those noises for me.” You nodded and exaggerated your moans some for his enjoyment as he fucked you on his fingers, rutting his hard cock against your thigh.

Once he figured you were worked out enough he slipped his finger out and licked it. Sucking up your nectar as he released his aching erection from its confinements. He tapped the tip on your clit teasingly before sliding it down your slit to your hole. Slipping in slightly. You were so tight. So tight, in fact, that he had to stop to level his breathing because his breath was already hitching at the feeling of you stretching around him.

“You a virgin or something? You’re tight as hell” he hissed out with furrowed eyebrows.

You just nodded as your legs shook slightly

“Why didn’t you say something” he leaned up to you and held your legs open slightly more. You only shrugged and gripped onto his back for dear life as he began to slowly move more. Breaking your bleeding, virgin pussy around his thick cock. You moaned at the feeling, the pain started to subside and you felt only the pleasure. His grip tight on you, as if he thought you’d run away. He started to pound into you faster, moving you to a different angle. You moaned out loud and arched at the feeling as you clung to his back.

“Yeah, you like that? That’s the spot isn’t it?”

You nodded frantically. He rushed a hand down to your clit and started rubbing vicious circles on the bundle of nerves, you were seeing stars as he mumbled praise and curses into your ear. Not slipping a single thrust as your orgasm crashed into you. Your legs shaking and your body convulsing as you clamped down onto him. He hissed at the feeling of you milking him of the orgasm he so gratefully gave you. He continued to fuck into your overstimulated body until he reached his own orgasm. Painting your virgin walls with his thick, hot, sticky cum. He hovered over you as you still clung to him, both of you trying to regain your breath.

“Good girl. Already so obedient, hmm?”

You nodded “I never want to disappoint you.” You were lying, again. You just wanted to stroke his ego He sat up and tucked himself away, covering you with a nearby blanket and kissing your cheek “Go to sleep. I’ll get you some food or something while we’re out.” You just nodded. You had to admit.. it was kind of sweet that he looked out for you like this. When he wasn’t threatening you he was actually quite nice. He left and locked the door. Before driving to a store and getting some snacks for you. He came back and seen you still laying on the bed, not fully asleep yet. “I didn’t know what you liked so I just got a lot things. Let me know what you like and I’ll get more of it next time.” You nodded and sat up, immediately moving to put the things away. He smiled

“No need to do that, doll.” You just stood there unsure if what to do “I want to. Please.” You said softly and waited until he said you could continue. He moved to sit on the bed as he watched you put the things away. “Can I sit with you” you asked meekly. He nodded “Yes of course” and then he leaned back pulling you to him as you sat down. He rested his eyes and you did the same as you leaned your ear against his chest. Falling asleep properly this time. Only to wake up to him gone. He was driving the van back to the base. You sat and waited patiently, rubbing your eyes. Once he pulled in and parked he walked back into the van. You perked up. He moved to grab his gun and knife. “Where are you going” your heart raced. “Work.” He said sternly. You jumped up and gripped at him “No, please! Don’t leave me here alone.. Mundy, what if you get hurt? I’ll be here all alone. I can’t lose you please just stay here with me!” he gently rubbed your back but then pushed you away “I can’t do that, darling. I need to make money so I can provide for my princess.” He kissed your forehead and walked out, locking the door. You cried to yourself. Sitting in the corner of the bed you shared for what seemed like hours until he came back. He was such a hypocrite. Isn’t that what he looked you up in here, to be safe?You heard the door click and immediately stumbled to meet him. Holding him for dear life. “I missed you.” You groaned and let your tears smudge against his shirt. He shushed you. “I’ll always come back to you, Y/n. You never have to worry about that, okay?” You nodded “I just got so scared..” he nodded “I know, but you trust me right?” “Mhm..” you whispered. “Good. Then I need you to trust I’ll always come back to you.” He gently picked you up and laid you down next to him, holding you tightly. Embracing himself with your scent and the feeling of you.

“I love you, y/n”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wiped your still wet face. “I.. I love you too, Mundy” and nuzzled into his touch.

This wasn’t a Drabble but.. who cares.

#sniper tf2 #tf2 sniper #sniper team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #snipertf2 #red reader x blu sniper #blu sniper #sniper x reader #sniper rifle #sniper tf2 x reader #team fortress2 #tf2 fanfiction #teamfortressfanfiction #team fortress #sniper tf2 x oc #yandere #yandere!snipertf2 x reader #femreader

[leotanaka]

has anyone else noticed that every time they show a character going to (or exiting) hollow earth or axis mundi as the show is calling it, that the titan is always present at the exact moment?

#monarch: legacy of monsters #monarch legacy of monsters #mlom #mlom spoilers #monarch spoilers #hollow earth

[scotianostra]

On December 2nd 1971 the last two permanently resident families leave the island of Scarp, off Harris in the Western Isles.

It was 52 years ago this week that the last native residents evacuated the island of Scarp with a family leaving on a small boat packed with furniture as their two cows swam behind them. The departure of Mr and Mrs Angus MacInnes and their two sons marked the end of an era on the island which was home to more than 200 people in the late 19th Century.

A newspaper report documented the exit of the MacInnes family, who came ashore half-a-mile away at Hushinish Beach on Harris before settling on a croft at Govig.

The article, printed in the Press and Journal, noted how the island was then “left to the Old Etonians” given its remaining residents were Andrew Miller Mundy, whose father once owned the North Harris Estate, and his school friend Andrew Cox, who temporarily moved to the island earlier that year with his wife and their baby, India.

After the MacInnes family left, life on Scarp continued for several more weeks until a heavy storm cut the island off with provisions running ‘dangerously low’. Mundy, in London at the time, sent a helicopter in to rescue his girlfriend, a model who he later married, with food also choppered into Scarp - just in time for Christmas.

Mundy later relocated permanently to Harris, trained himself to catch lobsters and worked the waters around St Kilda for a decade. He became a popular figure to many, representing Harris at council level for many years and was admired for his dedication to wildlife and conservation. Scarp, meanwhile, has seen little human life since the early 1970s. Those who inherited the island’s crofting rights still keep sheep on Scarp with rams taken over for tupping and lambs returned to Stornoway for sale in September.

The ruins of several old buildings remain scattered over the island with a handful of holiday homes bringing in visitors from time to time.

From a high of over 200 the population of Scarp was still a relatively healthy 100-150 at the turn of the 20th Century. The island is rocky and the north part is over 300m in height with a steep drop to the sea. The village, which is now in serious disrepair is located in the south-east corner where it is partly sheltered from the Atlantic winds. The only land capable of cultivation is near the village on the east coast. The local economy would have been very basic - potatoes, cabbages, oats, milk, fish. Billingsgate market in London would have been the destination for much of the lobster caught by the Scarp fishermen.

The village on Scarp had no electricity and the only means of illumination would have been oil lamps. There was piped water and the village did have a small shop. The telephone line was installed in 1947. Despite these few basic comforts Scarps population like so many other small islands around Scotland continued to decline. In 1966 the Church of Scotland refused to replace the lay preacher and a year later the village school closed. Two years later it was the Post Offices turn to close its doors for the last time and with it so ended all mail deliveries to and from the island.

As the islands infrastructure continued to deteriorate the next thing to go was the telephone cable. This was severed in a storm and the GPO simply refused to repair it. This was just about the last straw for the remaining islanders.

The people may have left but Scarp still gets mentioned in many a conversation to due the adventures of German rocket scientist Gerhard Zucher. The German boffin attempted to develop a rocket which could 'fire' mail from Scarp to Harris and vice versa. Unfortunately the first launch simply exploded on the spot. A second firing from Harris to Scarp was a success but the project was quickly forgotten....but still very much lingers in the legends and stories of Scarp.

Although there are no permanent residents, a handful of holiday homes still welcome visitors

#scotland #scottish #history #outer hebrides #western isles

[star-wars-writing]

Whispers amongst Stars

A/N: Hey guys, this will be the ninth story for the @codywanbingo I believe, I have to admit, I'm truly convinced of the story I've written here, it turned out differently than I expected, but that just how stories go sometimes, I still hope that you'll like it however, even if I'm not that convinced of it all. :-p. The prompt for this one was communication.

In the austere chamber of the Jedi Council, the air was thick with a sense of purpose, the walls echoing the weight of countless decisions that had shaped the fate of the galaxy. Here, in the heart of the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody stood before the Council, their figures casting long shadows on the polished floor.

Master Yoda's eyes, ancient and knowing, surveyed them both. "Assigned to Yelari, you are," he said, his voice carrying the weight of wisdom. "Critical, their allegiance is. Bring them into the Republic, you must."

Mace Windu, his expression as stern and unreadable as the stone sculptures of the Temple, nodded in agreement. "The Yelari possess unique resources and knowledge. Their alignment with the Republic could be a decisive advantage in the war."

Obi-Wan, his hands clasped behind his back, nodded solemnly. "We understand the importance of this mission, Masters. The Yelari are known for their peaceful ways and deep spiritual connection to their world. Earning their trust will be essential."

Cody, standing a step behind Obi-Wan, felt the gravity of the task ahead. The strategic importance was clear, but he also sensed the delicate nature of the mission. The Yelari were not just a potential ally in the war; they were a people with their own culture and traditions, a world apart from the battlefields he knew so well.

Ki-Adi-Mundi, his blue eyes thoughtful, added, "Your diplomatic skills, Obi-Wan, and Commander Cody's tactical expertise will be crucial. But be mindful; the Yelari are deeply spiritual and communicate in ways that might be unfamiliar to you."

Aayla Secura, her lekku shifting gently, spoke up. "The Yelari's language is not just spoken. It is expressed through movement, through an understanding of their environment. To communicate with them, you will need to understand their culture, their connection to their planet."

Obi-Wan bowed slightly. "We will approach this mission with respect and openness, ready to learn and adapt."

Cody remained silent, his thoughts already turning to the practicalities of the mission. He was a soldier, trained for combat and strategy, not diplomacy. Yet, he trusted Obi-Wan's judgment and knew that adaptability was as much a part of a soldier's life as his blaster.

As the meeting concluded, Obi-Wan and Cody exited the chamber, their steps echoing in the vast, quiet halls of the Temple. They were a pair united by purpose, stepping into a mission that would require more than just their skills as a Jedi and a soldier. It was a journey that would challenge them to bridge worlds, to find common ground in a galaxy often torn apart by conflict.

As they walked, Obi-Wan turned to Cody. "This mission will be unlike any we've undertaken before. We're not just negotiating a treaty; we're seeking to understand a culture, to build a bridge of trust and respect."

Cody nodded, his expression resolute. "I'm ready, General. Whatever it takes to bring the Yelari into the fold of the Republic."

And with those words, they set forth on their journey to the Yelari, a mission that would test their abilities, their beliefs, and the strength of their bond as allies and friends.

** 

In the dimly lit archives of the Jedi Temple, a world away from the luminous corridors of the Yelari stronghold, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody delved into the ancient tomes and holographic records. The archives, a repository of knowledge spanning millennia, whispered secrets of forgotten worlds in the soft hum of its data streams.

Obi-Wan, his fingers gliding over the spines of dusty books, wore an expression of focused curiosity. The light from the holoprojectors danced across his face, casting shadows that flickered like distant stars in a nebula. "The Yelari," he murmured, "a people deeply attuned to their planet, their culture woven into the very fabric of their environment."

Cody, standing beside a holographic display, watched as images of Yelari rituals and landscapes floated in the air. He felt a sense of awe at the complexity and beauty of their world, so different from the stark military environments he was accustomed to. "They seem almost... mystical," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of respect and uncertainty.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes not leaving the texts. "Their spirituality is interlinked with their language. It's not just about words; it's about the connection they feel with everything around them."

Cody looked at Obi-Wan, observing the Jedi's ease in navigating the abstract concepts. He felt a twinge of apprehension. Diplomacy and subtle nuances were not his forte. His world was one of clear commands and tangible actions. Yet, he knew the importance of understanding the Yelari, of seeing beyond the surface.

A hologram displayed a Yelari festival, figures moving in a dance that seemed to echo the rhythms of nature. Obi-Wan watched, his face alight with fascination. "See how they move, Cody. It's as if they're part of the air, the water, the earth. Every movement tells a story, communicates an emotion."

Cody squinted, trying to discern the patterns. "It's like a language without words," he said slowly, a realization dawning on him. "We'll need to understand this if we're to communicate effectively."

Obi-Wan nodded, turning to face Cody. "Exactly. We must approach this not just as a diplomatic mission, but as a learning experience. We must be students of their culture."

The two spent hours in the archives, poring over records, immersing themselves in the world of the Yelari. Obi-Wan's enthusiasm was palpable, his mind absorbing the information like a sponge. Cody, though more reserved, was equally committed, his strategic mind cataloging details, understanding the importance of each piece of knowledge.

As they left the archives, the corridors of the Jedi Temple felt both familiar and alien. The mission ahead loomed in their minds, a challenge unlike any they had faced. For Obi-Wan, it was an opportunity to bridge worlds, to use his skills in a way that went beyond the battlefield. For Cody, it was a foray into uncharted territory, a test of his ability to adapt and understand.

The walk back to their quarters was quiet, each lost in thought. Obi-Wan's mind danced with the possibilities, the potential for a true understanding between the Republic and the Yelari. Cody's thoughts were more pragmatic, focused on the logistics of the mission, the practicalities of communication.

Yet, beneath their differing perspectives, there was a shared sense of purpose, a mutual respect for the task ahead. They were a team, a Jedi and a soldier, each bringing their strengths to a mission that would require more than just strength. It would require understanding, empathy, and an openness to the unknown.

As they prepared to depart for the Yelari world, the weight of the mission settled on their shoulders. It was a weight they bore willingly, a responsibility they accepted with the knowledge that

what they were about to undertake could change the course of the war and perhaps, in a small but significant way, the galaxy itself.

In the quiet of his quarters, Cody reviewed the data one last time. The holographic images of Yelari landscapes and people glowed softly in the dim light. He tried to imagine himself in that alien world, interacting with its inhabitants, a daunting task for a man who had always relied on the clarity of orders and the straightforwardness of battle.

Obi-Wan, in his own quarters, sat cross-legged, eyes closed in meditation. He reached out with his feelings, trying to attune himself to the Yelari's unique way of life. There was a tranquility to their existence, a harmony he sought to understand and emulate. The Force flowed through him, a gentle current of insight and empathy.

The next morning, as they boarded the ship that would take them to the Yelari planet, Obi-Wan turned to Cody with a reassuring smile. "Remember, Cody, this mission is about more than just words. It's about feeling, about understanding a culture so different from our own."

Cody nodded, his expression determined. "I might not have your way with words, General, but I understand the mission. We'll get them on our side."

The journey through hyperspace was a time of contemplation. Obi-Wan spent hours meditating, while Cody revisited the data, familiarizing himself with every detail of the Yelari and their world.

When they finally emerged from hyperspace, the Yelari planet loomed before them, a jewel of blues and greens against the backdrop of space. It was a world untouched by the war, a reminder of what they were fighting for.

As they entered the atmosphere, Obi-Wan looked out at the sprawling forests and vast oceans below. "Beautiful," he whispered, a sense of awe in his voice.

Cody, too, was struck by the beauty of the planet. It was a stark contrast to the battle-scarred worlds he was used to. "It's... not what I expected," he admitted, his voice soft.

The ship landed gently on the outskirts of the Yelari's main settlement. As they disembarked, they were greeted by a delegation of Yelari, their iridescent skin shimmering in the sunlight.

As Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody stepped onto the fertile soil of the Yelari planet, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds enveloped them. The air was perfumed with the sweet scent of alien flora, and the sound of the Yelari's melodic language filled the air like a symphony of nature itself.

The welcoming party, a procession of Yelari adorned in vibrant, flowing garments that seemed to ripple with their every movement, approached with a grace that was almost otherworldly. Their faces were serene, eyes shining with a gentle curiosity beneath their iridescent brows.

Obi-Wan, his senses attuned to the subtleties of the moment, stepped forward with a respectful bow. "We are honored by your welcome," he said, his voice steady yet imbued with the warmth of genuine gratitude.

The Yelari responded not with words but with a series of harmonious tones and elegant gestures that seemed to paint pictures in the air. Their hands moved with a fluidity that was mesmerizing, each motion a word, each pause a punctuation.

Cody watched, his expression a blend of fascination and bewilderment. He had prepared for this, but the reality of the Yelari's language was more complex and beautiful than any data file could convey.

Obi-Wan, meanwhile, was attempting to parse the meaning of the gestures, his knowledge of languages stretching to its limits. He mirrored a few of the motions, hoping to convey his peaceful intentions. The Yelari's faces lit up with what could only be interpreted as delight, their skin shimmering with subtle changes in color.

One of the Yelari, taller than the rest and adorned with symbols that hinted at a high status, stepped forward. With a series of flowing hand movements and a lilting vocalization, they seemed to invite Obi-Wan and Cody deeper into their world.

Obi-Wan turned to Cody, his eyes twinkling with the thrill of the unknown. "I believe we are being invited to participate in a welcoming ritual. It's an honor."

Cody nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Lead the way, General. I'll follow your lead."

As they were guided through the lush vegetation of the Yelari settlement, the sights and sounds of this alien world washed over them. The plants seemed to hum with life, the very air vibrating with an energy that was unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

They arrived at a clearing where a circle of Yelari awaited them, their arms raised towards the sky. In the center of the circle stood a structure that appeared to be a fusion of art and nature, its design harmonious with the environment.

The tall Yelari gestured for Obi-Wan and Cody to step into the circle. The air inside felt charged, as if they were stepping into a different realm.

The ritual began with a chant, a haunting melody that resonated in Obi-Wan's very soul. He closed his eyes, allowing the sound to wash over him, feeling a connection to these people that transcended language.

Cody, ever the soldier, remained alert, but even he could not deny the beauty of the moment. He watched as the Yelari moved around them in a dance that was both intricate and spontaneous, a celebration of life and welcome.

Obi-Wan, sensing the deeper meaning in their movements, began to move with them, his body finding the rhythm instinctively. He was a part of their dance now, a part of their world.

Cody, hesitant at first, soon found himself swaying to the rhythm, drawn into the dance despite himself. He glanced at Obi-Wan, seeing the Jedi in a new light – not just as a warrior or a diplomat, but as a being deeply connected to the universe in all its diversity.

As the ritual came to a close, the Yelari gathered around Obi-Wan and Cody, their faces alight with joy and peace. The tall Yelari placed their hands over Obi-Wan's and Cody's hearts, a gesture that needed no translation.

They had been welcomed not just into the Yelari's world, but into their hearts. And in that moment, Obi-Wan and Cody knew that this mission was about more than just a treaty. It was about understanding, about connection, about finding common ground in a galaxy too often torn apart by conflict.

As they left the clearing, the sounds of the Yelari's song still echoing in their ears, Obi-Wan and Cody walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They had stepped into a new world, a world where words were not needed to speak volumes. And in that world, they had found a new understanding, not just of the Yelari, but of each other and the infinite complexities

of the universe they were sworn to protect.

Obi-Wan's mind was abuzz with the nuances of the Yelari's communication. He was fascinated by the way their culture intertwined so seamlessly with their environment, how each gesture, each note of their language, was a reflection of the world they inhabited. It was a reminder of the Force's presence in all living things, a symphony of life that he, as a Jedi, was attuned to.

Cody, for his part, was processing the experience in his own way. The ritual had been outside his comfort zone, but it had also been a revelation. He had always viewed communication as a straightforward exchange of information. But the Yelari had shown him that communication could be an art, a dance, a way of connecting that went beyond mere words.

As they continued their journey through the Yelari settlement, the inhabitants greeted them with smiles and gestures of respect. The initial awe at their presence had given way to a warm acceptance, as if Obi-Wan and Cody were no longer outsiders but part of the community.

They passed by a group of Yelari children, who watched them with wide, curious eyes. One child, braver than the rest, approached and tugged gently at Cody's hand. The child then performed a simple dance, a mimicry of the welcoming ritual, but imbued with the innocent charm of youth.

Cody, usually so stoic, couldn't help but smile. He attempted to replicate the dance, his movements awkward but earnest. The children erupted in laughter, not mocking but full of joy. In that moment, Cody felt a bond with these alien children, a connection forged by the universal language of laughter and sincerity.

Obi-Wan observed this interaction, a warm smile on his face. He saw a side of Cody that was rarely revealed – a gentleness, a willingness to connect, to understand. It was moments like these that reminded him of the good that still existed in the galaxy, of the innocence and joy that they were fighting to protect.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden light over the alien landscape, Obi-Wan and Cody were led to a gathering place where the Yelari elders awaited them. It was time to discuss the treaty, to begin the negotiations that had brought them to this world.

But as they sat down with the elders, Obi-Wan knew that this negotiation would be unlike any other. It would not be a battle of words and wills, but a conversation of hearts and minds. They had come to the Yelari as representatives of the Republic, but they had also come as students, ready to learn and to build a bridge of understanding.

And in that understanding, Obi-Wan saw the true path to peace, not just for the Yelari, but for the galaxy at large. It was a path that required patience, empathy, and an open heart – qualities that he and Cody, in their own ways, possessed in abundance.

As the night fell and the stars began to twinkle in the alien sky, Obi-Wan and Cody sat with the Yelari elders, their conversation a gentle flow of gestures and words. They were no longer just diplomats on a mission; they were friends, sharing in the beauty of a culture that had welcomed them with open arms.

In the heart of the Yelari world, under a sky of unfamiliar constellations, a bond was being forged, a bond that would ripple out into the galaxy, carrying with it the hope of a new understanding, a new alliance, and a new dawn for the Republic.

The gathering under the starlit Yelari sky was a tableau of intercultural exchange, with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody at its center. The Yelari elders, their faces aglow with the soft light of their bioluminescent skin, communicated in a symphony of fluid gestures and harmonic tones, creating an atmosphere that was at once alien and inviting.

Obi-Wan, with his deep understanding of the Force and his experience with diverse cultures, navigated the subtleties of the Yelari language with a grace that belied the complexity of the task. He moved his hands in smooth, flowing arcs, his body swaying gently in tune with the rhythm of the Yelari speech.

Cody, however, found himself adrift in this sea of unspoken communication. He watched Obi-Wan closely, trying to mimic his gestures, but his movements were stiff, more accustomed to the precise commands of military drills than the nuanced language of the Yelari.

In an effort to show respect, Cody attempted a series of hand motions he had observed earlier. But his interpretation was off, his timing awkward. The Yelari elders paused, their expressions shifting from serene contemplation to bemused curiosity.

One elder, her eyes twinkling, responded with a series of elaborate gestures. The others watched, a ripple of soft laughter spreading through the group. Cody, realizing he had somehow missed the mark, looked to Obi-Wan, his face a mixture of confusion and mild embarrassment.

Obi-Wan, suppressing a smile, leaned in. "I believe you just told them you're interested in learning their most sacred dance," he whispered, his voice laced with amusement.

Cody's eyes widened. "That's not exactly what I was aiming for, General."

The Yelari seemed delighted by the misunderstanding, their laughter like the chiming of distant bells. One elder stood and began a slow, ceremonial dance, beckoning Cody to join.

With a resigned sigh and a glance at Obi-Wan's encouraging nod, Cody stepped forward. The elder led, and Cody followed as best he could, his movements hesitant but earnest. The Yelari around them clapped in rhythm, their faces alight with joy.

Obi-Wan watched, his heart warmed by the scene. It was a reminder of the universality of laughter, of the connections that could be forged through shared moments of light-heartedness.

As the dance concluded, the elders applauded, their appreciation genuine. Cody, slightly out of breath but smiling, returned to Obi-Wan's side. "I think I'll stick to what I know best from now on," he said, his voice tinged with relief.

The gathering continued, and soon Obi-Wan found himself the center of another unexpected situation. A young Yelari, her eyes bright with mischief, approached and began a series of intricate hand gestures that were clearly directed at him.

The elders watched with keen interest, a knowing look shared among them. Obi-Wan, ever the diplomat, responded with polite, if somewhat cautious, gestures. But as the exchange continued, it became apparent that he was being drawn into a Yelari courtship ritual.

The realization dawned on him slowly, his face registering surprise and then a resigned amusement. He glanced at Cody, who was trying hard to maintain a straight face.

The Yelari around them were thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, their gentle laughter filling the air. Obi-Wan navigated the situation with a delicate balance of respect and gentle declination, using his movements to convey his honored yet unable-to-accept status.

As the young Yelari gracefully accepted his response, the elders nodded in approval, their expressions a blend of respect and amusement. Obi-Wan, relieved, stepped back, his eyes meeting Cody's.

"I think we've just had a crash course in Yelari social customs," Obi-Wan said, a wry smile on his lips.

Cody chuckled. "And I thought navigating the battlefield was tricky."

The evening progressed with more exchanges, each moment a dance of cultural learning and gentle missteps. Through it all, Obi-Wan and Cody moved with a growing ease, their initial uncertainties giving way to a deeper appreciation of the Yelari's world.

The stars above shone brightly, casting their light on a gathering that was more than just a diplomatic mission. It was a meeting of worlds, of hearts and minds, a testament to the power of understanding and the enduring bonds that could be formed when one looked beyond words and into the essence of connection.

*** 

The night wore on, the sky above a tapestry of stars, as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody continued their foray into the heart of Yelari culture. The evening's earlier misunderstandings had given way to a shared amusement and a sense of camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of their usual interactions.

Sitting side by side at the edge of the gathering, they watched as a group of Yelari children enacted a playful rendition of the day's events. The children mimicked Cody's earnest attempts at the dance and Obi-Wan's diplomatic grace with an exaggerated flair that brought chuckles from the onlookers.

Cody, leaning back on his hands, watched with a smile. "I didn't realize we were providing tonight's entertainment," he said, his tone light and self-deprecating.

Obi-Wan laughed, the sound mingling with the night's gentle breeze. "Every mission has its unexpected elements, Cody. This one seems to include a bit of unintended comedy."

The laughter they shared was easy, a reflection of the bond they had formed over years of serving side by side. In the midst of war and duty, moments like these were rare and precious.

Obi-Wan's gaze turned thoughtful as he watched the children. "You know, there's something remarkable about the way they view us. To them, we're not just foreign visitors; we're part of a story. It's a reminder of how our actions, even the smallest ones, can have an impact."

Cody nodded, his expression softening. "It's easy to forget that in the heat of battle. Here, it's... different. Slower. There's time to see those impacts."

The Jedi and the Commander sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in their thoughts. The Yelari's way of life, so deeply connected to their environment and each other, was a stark contrast to the life they knew, governed by orders and strategy.

A Yelari elder approached them, her movements embodying the grace and wisdom of her years. She spoke softly, her voice a melodious whisper that seemed to carry the very essence of her people's spirit.

Obi-Wan listened intently, then turned to Cody. "She says that in sharing our laughter and embracing our mistakes, we honor their ways more than any perfect dance could."

Cody's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Well, in that case, I guess we're doing an outstanding job."

The elder smiled, a warm, inclusive gesture that seemed to bridge the gap between their worlds. She then invited them to join in a closing ritual, a gesture of unity and goodwill.

As they stood, joining hands with the Yelari in a circle, Obi-Wan and Cody felt a sense of belonging, of being part of something larger than themselves. The ritual was simple yet profound, a series of movements and harmonies that spoke of unity, peace, and the shared journey of all beings.

Cody, who had always seen the world in terms of objectives and tactics, found himself moved by the ritual's symbolism. Standing there, hand in hand with beings so different from himself, he felt a deep sense of connection, a realization that despite their differences, there was a common thread that bound them all.

Obi-Wan, his eyes closed in contemplation, felt the Force flow around and through them, a tangible representation of the interconnectedness of all life. It was moments like these that reminded him of the true purpose of the Jedi – to be guardians of peace, bridges between worlds.

As the ritual came to an end, the Yelari elders expressed their gratitude and hope for a future of friendship and collaboration. Obi-Wan and Cody, in turn, thanked them for their hospitality and the opportunity to learn and grow.

Walking back to their quarters, the two shared a quiet conversation, reflecting on the night's events. The laughter, the shared experiences, had brought them closer, not just as Jedi and Commander but as friends who had navigated the complexities of an unfamiliar world together.

In the soft glow of the Yelari moon, Obi-Wan and Cody realized that this mission had changed them in subtle yet significant ways. They had come seeking to bring the Yelari into the fold of the Republic, but they were leaving with a deeper understanding of themselves and each other, a reminder that in the vast tapestry of the galaxy, every thread was interconnected.

The dawn on the Yelari planet broke with a soft, golden light that bathed the alien landscape in a warm glow. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody, having spent the night in contemplative discussion, were ready to approach the crucial part of their mission – the negotiation of the treaty. However, the calm of the morning was soon to be disrupted by an unforeseen challenge.

As they made their way to the meeting place, a sense of purposeful tranquility pervaded the air. The Yelari, with their graceful movements and serene expressions, conveyed a peacefulness that belied the gravity of the discussions ahead.

The initial proceedings went smoothly. Obi-Wan, with his deep understanding of diplomacy, navigated the nuances of the Yelari language, his gestures and tone conveying respect and sincerity. Cody, his presence solid and reassuring, contributed through his keen observations, his understanding of strategy providing a silent support to Obi-Wan's words.

However, the harmony of the negotiation was soon interrupted. During a crucial moment, Obi-Wan, attempting to convey the Republic's commitment to the Yelari's autonomy, made a gesture that he believed to be one of respect. To the Yelari, however, the gesture was one that signified a binding agreement, a commitment far beyond what the Republic had intended.

The atmosphere shifted palpably. The Yelari elders exchanged glances, their expressions turning from openness to something more reserved, almost cautious. The miscommunication hung in the air like a cloud, casting a shadow over the proceedings.

Obi-Wan, sensing the change in mood, glanced at Cody, his eyes conveying concern. "I think I've made a mistake," he murmured under his breath.

Cody, his mind racing to find a solution, responded quietly, "Can we clarify? Without offending their customs?"

Obi-Wan nodded, turning back to the Yelari elders with a calm demeanor that belied his inner turmoil. "Honored elders," he began, his voice gentle, "it seems I have misspoken through my actions. Please allow me to clarify the Republic's position."

The elders listened, their faces an enigmatic canvas of light and shadow. Obi-Wan proceeded to explain, his gestures careful and deliberate, emphasizing the Republic's respect for the Yelari's way of life and their desire for a partnership based on mutual understanding and autonomy.

Cody watched, his admiration for Obi-Wan's diplomatic skills growing. He had always known the Jedi to be a skilled negotiator, but seeing him navigate this delicate situation with such grace underlined the depth of his abilities.

As Obi-Wan spoke, the Yelari's expressions gradually softened. The misunderstanding was unraveling, the tension dissipating like mist under the morning sun. It was a testament to the power of honest communication, of the willingness to understand and be understood.

After Obi-Wan finished, there was a moment of silence, a collective breath held in anticipation. Then, the head elder, her movements embodying the grace of her people, responded. Her gestures were fluid and forgiving, her tone conveying not just acceptance of the clarification, but appreciation for the honesty.

Cody let out a quiet sigh of relief. The crisis had been averted, not through force or command, but through empathy and understanding – qualities that were as vital in diplomacy as they were in battle.

The rest of the negotiations proceeded with a renewed sense of partnership. Obi-Wan and Cody, now more aware of the intricacies of the Yelari language and culture, navigated the discussions with a careful consideration of every word and gesture.

As the meeting came to a close, the treaty agreed upon in principle, the Yelari elders expressed their gratitude for the respect and sincerity shown by the Republic's representatives. Obi-Wan and Cody, in turn, thanked the Yelari for their patience and understanding.

Walking back to their quarters, Obi-Wan and Cody reflected on the day's events. "Today was a reminder," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, "that communication is not just about the words we speak or the gestures we make. It's about the intention behind them, the willingness to bridge the gaps of misunderstanding."

Cody nodded, his respect for Obi-Wan deepening. "And it's about working together, understanding that we each bring something unique to the table. We're a good team, General."

Obi-Wan smiled, a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect evident in his gaze. "Indeed, Commander. We are."

The miscommunication with the Yelari had been a significant hurdle, but in overcoming it, Obi-Wan and Cody had not only solidified their bond but had also deepened their understanding of the power of communication. It was a lesson that would stay with them, a reminder that in the vast and varied galaxy, the ability to connect, to truly communicate, went far beyond words.

**** 

As the twin moons of the Yelari world rose in the night sky, casting a soft, ethereal light over the landscape, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody found themselves seated on a balcony overlooking the tranquil gardens of the Yelari compound. The air was filled with the gentle sounds of nocturnal creatures and the distant murmur of the Yelari night rituals, creating a backdrop of peaceful introspection.

Obi-Wan, his gaze fixed on the shimmering moons, seemed lost in thought. Cody, sitting beside him, was equally contemplative, the experiences of the day lingering in his mind like echoes of a profound dream.

After a moment of silence, Obi-Wan spoke, his voice soft and reflective. "This mission... it's been unlike any other. It's challenged us, not just as a Jedi and a soldier, but as individuals."

Cody turned to look at him, his expression thoughtful. "It's pushed us out of our comfort zones, made us see things in a different light. I've learned a lot from you, Obi-Wan, and not just about diplomacy."

Obi-Wan's gaze shifted from the moons to Cody. There was a depth in his eyes, a sincerity that went beyond their usual commander-and-subordinate dynamic. "And I, from you, Cody. Your adaptability, your willingness to embrace the unfamiliar... it's been inspiring."

The conversation paused as they both looked out at the serene gardens, lost in their thoughts. The Yelari had taught them a new way of communicating, one that transcended language and delved into the realm of emotion and connection.

Cody broke the silence, his voice hesitant yet earnest. "Obi-Wan, being here with the Yelari, learning their ways... it's made me realize something. About us."

Obi-Wan turned to face him fully, an attentive calmness in his demeanor. "What is it, Cody?"

Cody took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I've always respected you, followed your lead without question. But during this mission, I've seen a different side of you. And... it's made me feel something I hadn't expected."

Obi-Wan's expression softened, a gentle understanding dawning on his face. "Cody, I've felt it too. This mission has brought us closer, in ways I hadn't anticipated."

They shared a look, a moment of unspoken acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between them, a bond that had deepened into something more profound, perhaps even romantic.

Cody, emboldened by their newfound understanding and the openness of the Yelari culture, reached out, his hand hesitantly touching Obi-Wan's. "I've always seen you as a mentor, a leader. But now... it feels like there's more. I don't know if it's appropriate, or even possible, but I needed to say it."

Obi-Wan's hand turned, his fingers intertwining with Cody's. "In the vastness of the galaxy, connections like ours are rare. They transcend duty and rank. Cody, what I feel for you... it's more than just camaraderie."

The air around them seemed to hum with the intensity of their shared emotion, a connection that had been forged in the heat of battle and solidified in the tranquility of the Yelari world.

"Cody, we are bound by many things - duty, loyalty, the battles we've fought side by side. But this... what I feel now, it's different. It's personal, and it's deep," Obi-Wan confessed, his voice tinged with a vulnerability rarely shown.

Cody, his heart racing, nodded. "It's the same for me, Obi-Wan. I don't know where this leads, or what it means for us, but I know it's real."

They sat there, under the luminous moons, their hands clasped, a silent pact made in the quiet of the night. The world around them continued its gentle rhythm

, a symphony of nature and peace that seemed to reflect the newfound depth of their relationship.

The garden, bathed in moonlight, was a tableau of tranquility and beauty, mirroring the serenity of their moment. The Yelari had a saying about such moments, a phrase that Obi-Wan had learned during their stay: "In the quiet, the true song of the heart is heard."

Obi-Wan shared this phrase with Cody, his voice a whisper that carried the weight of their shared experiences. "Cody, in this quiet, I hear a song I've never heard before. It's new, uncertain, yet profoundly beautiful."

Cody looked into Obi-Wan's eyes, seeing there a reflection of his own feelings. "I hear it too, Obi-Wan. It's like a melody that's been waiting to be discovered, a harmony of emotions that's both surprising and deeply right."

Their conversation drifted to their shared experiences, the challenges they had faced, and the moments of laughter and understanding. Each memory was a thread in the tapestry of their relationship, weaving a picture of mutual respect, deepening trust, and an emerging affection that transcended the roles they had always known.

Obi-Wan, using a phrase he had learned from the Yelari, expressed his feelings in their language of gestures, his hands moving with a grace and eloquence that transcended words. The movement spoke of respect, of admiration, and of a tenderness that had grown in the fertile soil of their shared journey.

Cody, watching Obi-Wan's hands, felt a surge of emotion. The gesture was beautiful, a visual poetry that spoke directly to his heart. He responded in kind, his movements less practiced but equally sincere, conveying his loyalty, his strength, and his willingness to embark on this new and uncharted path together.

As the night deepened, they spoke of the future, of the uncertainties and possibilities that lay ahead. They knew that their relationship, changed as it was, would need to be navigated with care and discretion, especially in a galaxy torn by war and bound by duty.

Yet, in that moment, under the gentle gaze of the Yelari moons, those concerns seemed distant, overshadowed by the profound connection they had discovered. They were two souls, a Jedi and a soldier, who had found in each other a kindred spirit, a companion for the journey, whatever it might bring.

The night waned, and the first light of dawn began to touch the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold. Obi-Wan and Cody stood, their hands reluctantly parting, knowing that the day would bring them back to the realities of their mission and their duties.

But the night, with its revelations and promises, would always remain with them, a cherished memory and a beacon of hope. They had found something rare and precious, a bond that transcended the stars, a love that spoke in the silent language of the heart.

As they walked back to their quarters, the garden behind them still whispering with the secrets of the night, they knew that their journey together was just beginning. A journey of discovery, of challenges, and of a love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

The sun rose high over the Yelari planet, casting its radiant light over the meeting hall where Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody, alongside the Yelari elders, were finalizing the terms of the treaty. The air was charged with a sense of accomplishment and hope, a testament to the successful culmination of their mission.

As Obi-Wan spoke, his words carefully chosen and his gestures reflecting the grace and respect he had learned from the Yelari, there was a newfound confidence in his demeanor. His eyes occasionally met Cody's, sharing silent messages of encouragement and solidarity.

Cody, standing beside him, watched the proceedings with a quiet sense of pride. He had witnessed Obi-Wan's skill in diplomacy before, but this was different. This was more personal, more profound. The bond they had formed on this planet had given them both a deeper understanding of each other and of the delicate art of communication.

The Yelari elders, their expressions serene and content, nodded in agreement with the terms being laid out. They too had come to respect and appreciate the two representatives from the Republic, not just for their diplomatic skills, but for their genuine efforts to understand and honor the Yelari way of life.

As the final terms were agreed upon, and the treaty was signed, there was a collective sigh of relief and satisfaction. The Yelari expressed their gratitude with their melodious language and elegant gestures, a beautiful dance of hands that spoke more than words ever could.

Obi-Wan and Cody responded in kind, using the gestures they had learned to express their own gratitude and respect. It was a moment of perfect understanding, a bridge built not just between cultures, but between hearts.

After the formalities were concluded, the Yelari hosted a farewell gathering in the gardens. The atmosphere was one of celebration and friendship, with music, laughter, and the sharing of stories. Obi-Wan and Cody mingled with the Yelari, their interactions now marked by a comfortable familiarity.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the garden, Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves alone for a moment, standing side by side, looking out at the view.

"We did it," Cody said, his voice a mix of relief and wonder.

"We did," Obi-Wan replied, a gentle smile on his face. "But it was more than just negotiating a treaty. We've learned so much, about the Yelari, about each other."

Cody nodded, his gaze still on the horizon. "I never expected to find what we did here. Not just a new ally for the Republic, but... something more personal."

Obi-Wan turned to him, his eyes soft. "It's been an unexpected journey, but I'm grateful for it. For everything."

They shared a look, a silent acknowledgement of the depth of their bond, the emotions that had grown and the understanding that had deepened between them.

As the evening came to a close, and it was time to depart, Obi-Wan and Cody boarded their ship with a sense of accomplishment and a feeling of bittersweet farewell. The Yelari had not just become allies; they had become friends, and the lessons learned on this planet would stay with them always.

As the ship ascended into the night sky, leaving the Yelari planet behind, Obi-Wan and Cody stood side by side, watching the stars emerge. They were returning to the Republic not just as successful diplomats, but as individuals changed by their experiences, their perspectives broadened and their connection deepened.

The mission had been a success in every sense of the word, but it was the personal victory they cherished the most

. The journey had reshaped their understanding of each other, transforming their relationship into something richer, more complex. The bond that had formed between them was no longer just that of comrades-in-arms; it had evolved into a profound connection, fostered by shared experiences and mutual respect.

Cody looked out at the star-studded expanse, a universe of possibilities stretching out before them. "I never imagined when we started this mission that we'd be returning with so much more than a treaty," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and introspection.

Obi-Wan, gazing into the vastness of space, felt a similar sentiment. "The galaxy is full of surprises, Cody. This mission... it's reminded me of the importance of being open to the unexpected, of the richness that comes from truly connecting with others."

They stood in silence for a moment, each lost in their thoughts. The quiet hum of the ship and the soft glow of distant stars created a cocoon of tranquility around them. It was a rare moment of peace in the midst of a galaxy torn by conflict, a moment to reflect and appreciate the journey they had undertaken.

Obi-Wan finally turned to Cody, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, this mission has taught me a lot about myself, about the nature of relationships. What we've found here, it's rare. It's something to be valued and protected."

Cody nodded in agreement, his usual stoic demeanor softened by the emotions of the moment. "It's changed me too, Obi-Wan. I've always been focused on the mission, on doing my duty. But this... it's opened my eyes to the importance of the connections we make along the way."

As the ship continued its journey back to the Republic, Obi-Wan and Cody knew that the challenges ahead would be many. Their relationship, having crossed into new territory, would need careful navigation, especially within the rigid structures of the military and the Jedi Order.

Yet, as they stood together, looking out at the infinite expanse of space, they felt a sense of readiness for whatever the future might hold. They had faced the unknown together, had learned and grown together, and that had made them stronger, both as individuals and as a team.

The experiences on the Yelari planet had been transformative, not just in terms of the diplomatic victory they had achieved, but in the personal journey they had embarked upon. They had discovered a new language of the heart, a way of communicating that transcended words and gestures. It was a language of shared glances, of understanding smiles, of silent support in the face of adversity.

As the ship sped through the cosmos, Obi-Wan and Cody carried with them the memories of the Yelari, the lessons learned, and the deep bond they had forged. It was a bond that had been tested and strengthened, a bond that would continue to evolve as they navigated the complexities of their lives and duties.

In the quiet of the ship, amidst the stars and the endless possibilities of the galaxy, they looked forward to the future, to the journey that lay ahead, together.

***

I eagerly look forward to your thoughts, comments, and interpretations, as they are not just the affirmation of a story told but the continuation of a conversation that began in the heart of a galaxy far, far away.

#obi wan kenobi #commander cody #obi wan kenobi x commander cody #commander cody fanfiction #codywanbingo #obi wan fanfiction #star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #romance #cultural difference #misunderstandings

[graylinesspam]

An excerpt from a story I've been writing about Ahsoka exploring togruta lore in order to connect with her heritage. And also acting as a jedi delegate speaking with a lost traditionalist togruta tribe.

when their ships landed at the edge of the village they were met with a line of armed men. Their lekku were all warm shades ranging from a deep magenta to a bright yellow. Their weapons were traditional. The repurposed tools and hunting knives and spear were held in tight but lowered grips. Though they wanted to show strength to the invaders they did not want to show aggression. Not a curled lip or an exposed fang could be found on their faces. 

In the center of the delegation was an elder not as old as the ones she'd befriended from the green lek tribe, but his montrals were tall and his lekku were wide. His skin showed the wear of sun and labor. 

"Will they attack?" Mundi asked after she'd taken the time to assess their welcome party. 

"I don't think so," Ahsoka said. "But why don't you let me go first?"

Mundi nodded to the front of the ship and the gunship doors slid open. Ahsoka stepped off the ship first; her choice to go barefoot had raised several eyebrows but she was glad for the opportunity to ground herself. Her beaded ankle bracelets flashed for a moment as she stepped down into the tougher, reedier grass. 

As she took two tentative steps forward Rex and Echo exit the gunship behind her. Their boots made loud crunching noises as they trampled the grass. Master Mundi and one of the three delegates from Cerea filled out the right side of the ship. 

The men in a line before her studied the group carefully, apprehensive looks were cast to the clone troopers and, with cautious recognition, to the Cereans. But it was the sight of Ahsoka that caught all of their attention. 

She was the shortest among them but she stood in the lead. Every man there shot quick glances at her murmurs growing across the line. 

The Elder had eyes only for her. He separated from the line, his palms open in front of him. He and Ahsoka approach each other drawn across the no man's land like magnets. 

They met in the middle palms laid flat against each other and heads turned until they lay cheek to cheek. "Welcome sister," his voice hummed richly through his chest. There was a warm sort of familial feeling that overtook her in response. 

"I am honored to see you elder," she replied In the people's language. Hoping beyond hope that her pronunciation wasn't mangled.

"You bring many with you today. Those that resemble the troublemakers. And men in much armor. Do you bring conflict to us?" He asked with much patience in both the speed and tone of his words. Speaking slowly the way Ahsoka had to accommodate her.

"No. I have brought peace with me. Those that have trouble with you have called to me to speak. So that there will be no conflict. They come with great respect but also urgency."

The elder holds her hands in a loose grip between them as he pears around Ahsoka's shoulders, suspicion in his eyes. But it isn't Mundi or the Cereans he is looking at. It is Rex and Echo.

"You bring peace, but you bring soldiers in much armor with great weapons?"

Ahsoka is somehow blindsided by the accusation. It simply hadn't occurred to her that the sight of blasters or clone armor would seem aggressive to the lost tribe here. 

Ahsoka scrambled for a reason that would make sense to these people without a twenty minute backstory about Mandalorians and the galactic war.

She glanced back at Rex and the excuse came to mind easily. Something that she'd pondered idly in a childish bid to have more connection with her culture in a religion that didn't foster much; and in an environment where she didn't even need a full hand to count the amount of people that looked like her. 

She raised an open palm over her shoulder and quickly flashed a mandalorian hand signal she'd used a hundred times to direct her troops. With practiced efficiency Rex and Echo strode either of her flanks and stood once more at rest. Both visors trained stoically forward.

"Revered elder, this is Rex, my hunting partner. And his brother Echo. It is the way of their people to remain armed but they follow my lead. My orders. They're loyalty brings me great honor."

The elder looked shocked. He inspected Rex closely peering into the black of his visor to try to see into his heart.

"Rex, take off your helmet, lower your head to the elder." It was the first time she'd spoken in basic since exiting the ship but Rex didn't need any context to follow her order.

He removed his helmet and ducked his shoulders so the shorter man could peer into his eyes.

The elder searched him trying to weigh his gaze against the unfamiliar danger of the weapons on his hips. Trying to determine what sort of man she was bonded to.

Ahsoka knew both men were confused by the interaction. The title she'd given Rex, hunting partner, bhat sa'behm, was sacred and it had no equivalent outside of Togruta society.

A hunting partner was a life bonded friend. Usually someone you grew up with, someone you'd learned to read better than anyone else. Someone who could get lost in the grass and shadows of Shili but remain by your side. With no words between you and no wasted breath. Some said hunting with another for a long time bonded your souls in the next life. Ensured you would be reborn in the same body. Two halves made whole.

She supposed her and Rex were close enough to that. Though what they hunted were droids. And she wasn't convinced reincarnation was real. They still had an unmatched read on each other. She'd rather have him at her back than anyone.

Finally satisfied with peering into Rex's soul the elder turned back to her. "He is wise in this life. But his soul is young." he determined. "You are not. An old spirit in a young body." he said with a chuckle. "perfectly suited."

#ahsoka tano #captain rex #Echo #Togruta #Togruta lore #star wars #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw #501st #fanfic #Togruta language #Tribal societies #Grassland tribes #Hunting partners #little sister ahsoka #Badass ahsoka tano

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Have a blind!Obi-Wan snippet from the most recent chapter

Ahsoka knocked on Obi-Wan's door, and it opened before her, with no one there.

"Master?" She asked, stepping in, seeing the lights were still on, and there were a few datapads and a half-full teacup on the table.

"What it is, dear 'Soka?"

Ahsoka turned to see Obi-Wan lying with Cody's head on his chest, pale fingers gently carding through the dark curls.

"Oh, I didn't realise you were-Is he sleeping?"

"It's fine, young one. What do you need?"

"I most certainly am not asleep." Came a grumbled response, and a half-hearted glare shot up at Obi-Wan.

"You really should be, my dear."

"I'll sleep when you do."

"Hush, love, you'd subsist solely on caf if that were true."

Crys was right. They were definitely together. Anakin and Rex didn't act like an old married couple, and she'd bet all her credits that none of the other Commanders and Generals did either.

"Ahsoka?"

"Yes, Master?"

"You needed me?"

"Oh, Anakin says they've found Poggle, and he's trying to escape through the catacombs."

"I thought he might. Could you send out an order to guard the known entrances and exits?"

"Master Mundi is out of the med bay and has given his report, which I've got here."

"I'm glad his recovery was quicker than expected."

"Stitch says your recovery would be quicker if you stayed in a bacta tank."

"Stitch should know better."

She'd never heard Obi-Wan sound so cold, closed off and sharp. She'd ask the med clone why when she was done here.

"Speaking of Stitch, he asked the next person to see you to check that you were still wearing the med tracker. He doesn't believe you spent all afternoon in bed."

Obi-Wan lifted his arm, showing the med tracker still in place and resuming his petting of Cody's hair afterwards. "Stitch has hung the IV from the ceiling, and I'm afraid I'm rather stuck in bed. I'm sure he'll claim it was accidental, should you ask."

"Where do you want Master Mundi's report?"

"Is it a datapad?"

"Mhm," She answered with a nod and then a sigh. "Sorry, again. Yes, Master."

"Young one, everyone does that. There's no need to apologise. I was being perfectly serious when I said Master Yoda still does it, and he's known me since I was about 3 years old. Could you pass it over?" Obi-Wan held out a hand, fingers curling around the metal and then relaxing as he settled it on his chest.

"I thought you couldn't read datapads?"

"I can't, but there's a benefit to having a very cuddly clone Commander."

"Kriff you." Came a sleepy mumble as honey brown eyes opened to look at the datapad.

"Ask nicely, darling." Obi-Wan teased, whispering the words near Cody's ear, making the clone's cheeks flush.

Yep, definitely, absolutely, 100% married. Anakin owed her 20 credits. Ahsoka smiled to herself as she left to the sound of Cody reading out Master Mundi's report.

#Codywan #Codywan fic #Blind Obi Wan #Yes they're basically married #Tell me otherwise #I'd put the link up but I'm at work and need to make this quick #For context Ahsoka is now Obi-Wan's padawan #For full context read the fic

[hapless-haunted]

All this time that changes nothing. Patient, waiting for her to see. I never needed or asked for a reason. The end result stays that she bleeds. There lies no whit of worry here, Nor discontent or flippancy. I don’t pretend she needs to care, Or follow up on anything. I don’t believe in wasting time In extirpating agency. I have to laugh, what does she think? What kind of friend would that make me? (H.H)

#poem #poetry #songwriting #storytelling #writing #spilled ink #Exit Mundi #that was a reference

[shamandrummer]

The Shamanic Horse

The drum, often called the shaman's horse, provides the shamanic practitioner a relatively easy means of controlled transcendence. Researchers have found that if a drum beat frequency of around three to four beats per second is sustained for at least 15 minutes, it will induce significant trance states in most people, even on their first attempt. The drum becomes the practitioner's mount, and the drumstick becomes a riding crop. Riding the rhythm of the drum at the speed of sound, the practitioner journeys to the inner planes of consciousness and back.

Through the sound of the drum, which is customarily made of wood from the World Tree (axis mundi), the practitioner is transported to the cosmic axis (spinal column) within and conveyed from plane to plane. As noted Tuvan Siberian ethnomusicologist Valentina Suzukei explains: "There is a bridge on these sound waves so you can go from one world to another. In the sound world, a tunnel opens through which we can pass, or the shaman's spirits come to us. When you stop playing the drum, the bridge disappears."(1)

The shamanic horse, namely the single-headed frame drum, originated in Siberia, along with shamanism itself thousands of years ago. Shamanic drumming is considered one of the oldest methods for healing and accessing inner wisdom. Practiced in diverse cultures around the planet, this drum method is strikingly similar the world over. Shamanic drumming uses a repetitive rhythm that begins slowly and then gradually builds in intensity to a tempo of three to seven beats per second. The ascending tempo will induce light to deep trance states. Practitioners may progress through a series of trance states until they reach the level that is necessary for healing to occur.

Basically, shamanic drumming is a technique of accessing and directing archetypal or transpersonal powers for healing and manifesting what is needed to benefit the community. It is a simple and effortless way to still the incessant chatter of the mind, thereby inducing a shamanic trance state. Shamanic drumming carries awareness into the transcendent realm of the collective unconscious, the infinite creative matrix of all that we are, have been and will ever be. It is an inward spiritual journey of ecstasy in which one interacts with the inner world, thereby influencing the outer world.

During shamanic flight, the sound of the drum serves as a guidance system indicating where the journeyer is at any moment or where they might need to go. The drumbeat also serves as an anchor or lifeline that the traveler follows to return to their body when the trance work is complete. One of the paradoxes of rhythm is that it has both the capacity to move your awareness out of your body into realms beyond time and space, and to ground you firmly in the present moment. It allows you to maintain a portion of ordinary awareness while experiencing nonordinary awareness. This allows recall or recollection of the visionary experience. When ready to exit the trance state, the practitioner simply slows the tempo of drumming, drawing consciousness back to normal. Shamanic drumming continues to offer today what it has offered for millennia -- a simple and effective technique of ecstasy.

Although sounding simple and redundant, the unique connection between the drum and the practitioner gives this drumming great power, richness and depth. According to Valentina Suzukei, "shamanic drumming is not monotonous at all. Constant changes in timbre and volume keep them interesting…If you don’t listen for timbre, but only for pitch and rhythm the music is boring, monotonous. But the player's every smallest change of mood is reflected in timbre."(2)

It is the subtle variations in timbre and ever-changing overtones of the drum that allow the shamanic practitioner to communicate with the spiritual realm. Drumming opens one's inner, spiritual ears and eyes and also calls the helping spirits. By changing and listening to the tones, pitches and harmonics of the drum, the practitioner is able to send messages to and receive them from the spirit world.

The Shaman's Steed

The role of the horse in Siberian shamanism is predominately that of an animal that transports a shaman in his journeys, especially his journeys to the World Tree. In the shamanic traditions of East, Central and North Asia, winged horses symbolize the shaman's soul or the shaman's steed carrying the rider to Heaven. Among the Yakut people of Siberia, the drum was symbolically called kulan-at or "wild horse." The drum was the very heart of the shaman's steed. The Buryat, a Mongolic ethnic group native to southeastern Siberia, make their drums out of horse skins. The Buryat see the stars as a herd of horses tethered to the World Tree, which is represented by the pole star.

Throughout Mongolia, the drum is called Omisi Murin, which translates as Spirit Horse. The repetitive, rhythmic cadence of shamanic drumming is evocative of a horse on a journey. Mongolian and Siberian shamans describe it as the blissful, transcendent state that one mounts and rides from plane to plane. As Siberian shaman Tania Kobezhikova puts it, "My drum can connect me to the earth or carry me like a flying horse."(3) We can ride Spirit Horse on journeys through the inner realms of consciousness. As a form of transport for the body and the soul, Spirit Horse will let you ride him and will take you where you want to go. Do you need to get somewhere physical or spiritual? Spirit Horse will assist you and serve as your guardian spirit, giving safety in your physical and metaphysical journeys.

Kira Van Deusen, "Shamanism and Music in Tuva and Khakassia," Shaman's Drum, No. 47, Winter 1997, p. 24.

Kira Van Deusen, Singing Story, Healing Drum: Shamans and Storytellers of Turkic Siberia (McGill-Queen's Press, 2005), p. 124.

Van Deusen, Singing Story, Healing Drum, p. 122.

#shamanism #shamanic drumming #drumming #shaman #shamanic practice #shamanic journey #shamans #consciousness #horse power

[incarnateirony]

Here’s my question: why is Dean out looking for trouble instead of peace? Second he catches wind of it he goes chasing off. Of course his instinct is to help even when he’s told not to. He’s still struggling with what he always has: facing himself. Now he’s seen the difference it makes when you take a leap even if it’s fucking terrifying. He saved the universe again and now he’s left with the unanswered questions he’s been avoiding. Interesting to see how that goes….pending a season 2 that is lol.

Because, Dean's still not at peace, it's that simple. He technically made it to heaven, but he had a detour, and set off some dominos he didn't understand at the time--Akrida and all, but that will come in time.

So like--mary's thing about being afraid of dreaming of what's ahead. Life after hunting. Dean's one last hunt. Jack saying there will always be one more. Dean is *still watching this for himself*. It's why the death skull turns. It's why he's picking the music on every interface, one way or another, one weird chain or another, even down to Roxxy and the Akrida, but how that cascade even started etc.

Dean's line about being caught in between. He was never alive. And yet Baby was able to exit, despite it just being a heavenform thing since Baby didn't literally get raptured when Dean died.

He's still In Between, and to some extent is himself putting them in limbo's happy halls. They can make their own future but they know not what they know not. Dean is the only one that can understand the weight of his own choices, such as a future where Sam might not even be born at all, should the timeline skew enough. Or you know. Himself. Maybe being closer to his birth he could still happen, but Who That Dean Winchester Is. That's something else.

But yes, it's facing himself, at the end of the day. A few deans, a few tiers of observation.

It's all heaven, good ol chart, make the earth function within the heavens and not the other way around. Remember that and you'll never get lost understanding the mundi

[abandoned-by-destiny]

Chapter 1

fic masterlist // series masterlist // next chapter

Rating: General (hi this fic as a whole is explicit so minors PLS DNI okay thank youuuuuu)

Tags: canon-typical violence, wound care and other generic medical things (nothing explicit)

divider by: @djarrex

Location: The Arena on Geonosis // Year: 22 BBY

Waiting for the signal in the tunnel around the arena feels like agony. Lyra can feel Master Plo’s amusement from behind her as they both wait for Master Windu’s force signal to all of the Jedi around the arena. She’s never seen so many in one place except for the temple and there’s not a Padawan in sight. She bounces on her toes, fingers itching for her lightsaber. 

“Patience, young one.” Master Plo’s voice rumbles from behind her and she turns to face him. “We will go when the time is right, and not before.” He chastens her slightly, but she knows it is in kindness. She nods, struck again by the lack of weight on the right side of her head. It’s been a few months since she was Knighted, but she’s still getting used to not having her Padawan braid anymore. 

“I know, Master. But you can’t blame me for being nervous.” Lyra says to him and he laughs quietly. 

“Take a deep breath. Channel your nerves to the Force, and you will calm.” He says, still laughing slightly. Calm was hardly ever a word people used to describe her. She takes a deep breath like he tells her to, and feels slightly better. Truthfully, she’s more worried about Padmé. She’s supposed to be dead about fifty feet to Lyra’s right. 

Master Plo and Lyra both straighten at the same time, the Force vibrating around them. He takes two steps towards the entrance of the tunnel, his lightsaber already in his hand. He motions to the two Jedi down the way from them as she unhooks her own saber from her belt. The other Jedi exit first, and Plo and Lyra swiftly follow them. 

They emerge into the sun, Jedi wreathing the balcony of the arena. Across the way, on the dais, they can see Master Windu’s purple blade ignite across someone’s throat. She takes two steps forward, standing at the edge of the balcony. Master Plo and Master Mundi are on either side of her, and a sharp spike of alarm shoots up her spine as she looks down at her sister surrounded by destroyers. 

Padmé is on the back of a reek with Anakin and Obi-Wan; and as all the Jedi around the arena ignite their lightsabers, she feels a sense of relief from all three of them. Lyra ignites her own saber, the dark green blade feeling like an extension of her arm. 

Blaster fire erupts from behind them as battle droids flood the arena. She didn’t wear her robe, but Master Plo and Master Mundi are immediately caught in fire-ridden fabric. She blocks blaster bolts for both of them until she gets pushed to the edge of the balcony. She turns and dives over the edge, trusting the two Jedi Masters to be able to handle themselves. She lands in a roll in the center of a battalion of B-1 droids. She starts swinging her saber and runs towards the last place she saw Padmé. 

“Lyra!” She turns at the sound of her name and sees Anakin in the back of a chariot with Padmé riding the orray. She reaches her hand out and Anakin swings her up into the chariot behind him. 

“Are you alright?” Padmé and Lyra call towards each other in unison. Lyra smiles in Padme’s direction as she stands back to back with Anakin, blocking shots and taking out droids as they ride past. The orray gets shot as they round a curve and the chariot falls. Padmé falls forward as the back of the chariot tips with Anakin and Lyra caught in the cart. Lyra steps out first, and force-pulls Padmé back into the cart as Anakin continues to block blaster bolts. 

“Your back, let me see it.” Lyra tries to turn Padmé, but Padmé brushes her hands away.

“There’s no time. You can heal me later.” Padmé shoots at something over Lyra’s shoulder. Lyra smiles at her.

“It’s good to see you too.” Lyra says, turning to face the arena again. She kneels next to Anakin as she disengages her saber and starts using the Force.

“You call this a diplomatic solution?’ Anakin quips towards Padmé as she shoots the arm off a B-2 battle droid.

“No,” Padmé flicks some hair out of her eye and shoots another droid about to kill Anakin, “I call it aggressive negotiations.” Lyra sees them smile at each other out of the corner of her eye and resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“Flirt later, lovebirds. We’re a little busy at the moment.” Anakin’s cheeks turn red and Padmé laughs. Something jumps over them and lands a few feet away. Lyra recognizes the back of the nexu that had been tasked with killing her sister. Anakin's eyes darken, but Lyra grabs his arm. “Stay with her. This one’s mine.” She whispers and sees the understanding flit across his face.

Lyra slides out of the cart and ignites her saber. The green blade sings in her hand as she swipes it across the field, slicing off the nexu’s tail. It screams and whips around to face her, already off balance from the loss of its tail. She smiles and starts running, leading it away from Anakin and Padmé. It screeches again and takes off to follow her. 

Lyra deflects blaster bolts while she runs, directing them back towards the animal. She spins around once she gets to the arena wall and slices off one of its front limbs as it approaches her, full tilt. The nexu buckles and she slices off a back limb this time. It falls, unable to stand. It screams at her, probably thinking it can goad her into getting closer to its teeth. 

“This is for Padmé.” Lyra whispers to it, and then, in one clean motion, she slices its head off. She leaves its mangled corpse at the edge of the arena, and sprints back towards the fighting.

Lyra doesn't know how much longer the fighting goes on before the remaining Jedi are circled in the middle of the arena. The firing stops suddenly, and Lyra realizes that she’s standing next to Padmé and Anakin again. 

“Master Windu,” Dooku’s voice booms from his place on the dais, “You have fought gallantly. Worthy of recognition in the archives of the Jedi Order.” He pauses, probably for his own satisfaction. The droids push a few straggling Jedi into the circle with the rest of them, and she sees Plo enter the circle from her periphery. “Now it is finished,” Dooku continues his speech, “Surrender, and your lives will be spared.” Lyra scoffs under her breath, and she can feel that she’s not alone in her sentiment.

“We will not be hostages to be bartered, Dooku!” Master Windu calls back; his voice carrying more authority than Dooku’s ever could. 

“Then, I’m sorry, old friend.” Dooku sounds as if he’s actually sorry for a moment, but they all know better. The droids all point their blasters at the Jedi in unison, and they can all feel the tension rise. Anakin and Lyra both take a step in front of Padmé, and she points her stolen blaster over their joined shoulders. Lyra raises her lightsaber and ready herself for a fight.

“Look!” Padmé calls and they all glance up. There are ships blotting out the sun and the sky. Large ships shaped like arrowheads high above in the atmosphere, and smaller ships descending towards them in the arena. She can see the outline of Yoda in the ship closest to the ground, and she does a remarkable job of hiding her distaste. Humanoid figures in white armor fill the ships that land on the ground and the droids immediately open fire. The Jedi return in kind, deflecting bolts as the ships mow down row after row of battle droids.

The ships land around them, blocking the blaster fire. Lyra runs for the nearest ship, which happens to be the one with Yoda, Master Windu, and Master Mundi. Master Mundi and Lyra both reach a hand out and haul Master Fisto on board as well. The armored figures fill the space around them, and Lyra tries her best not to feel small. The ships take off and all the people around her grab onto the ropes hanging above. She can almost reach, but Master Windu holds his arm out towards her. She grabs on and thanks him.

“If Dooku escapes, rally more systems to his cause, he will.” Yoda speaks directly to Master Windu and Master Mundi, completely ignoring her existence. They swing around a tall rock spire and more ships appear in front of them. They start to descend to the ground when a ship gets blown out of the sky next to them.

“Pilot!” Master Windu calls over the wind, “Land in that assembly area.” The pilot turns their head and nods.

“Yes, sir.” A deep male voice comes from the helmet as the pilot follows Master Windu’s orders. They land and Masters Windu, Mundi, and Fisto all jump from the ship. There are more armored people, men Lyra assumes, waiting for them.

“Sir, I have five special commando units awaiting your orders, sir.” The man in yellow and white armor tells Master Windu as they all jog up. Master Windu nods and points, and the men follow him. Lyra turns to the pilot and takes a few steps closer so she doesn't have to yell.

“Has a triage area been set up?” She asks and he nods. 

“Yes, sir.” He responds and she does her best to ignore how strange it feels to be called sir. 

“Take me.” She says, before a voice pipes up behind her.

“To the forward command center, take me.” Yoda says to the person next to him and the pilot takes off.

“Triage is on the way, sir, we’ll drop you off.” The pilot calls back to Lyra. She rests her hand on his shoulder briefly.

“Thank you.” She calls over the wind again and then steps back into the main belly of the ship. She can feel Yoda’s gaze on her, but she ignores him. The ship lowers again and the pilot looks back at her. Lyra nods and hops off before the ship hits the ground. She covers her eyes as the ship takes off once again, and flies into the distance. 

She turns and sees three large white tents with haphazard medical symbols painted on them. She pushes through the curtain of the middle tent and steps into chaos. Another person in the same white armor as everyone else approaches her. 

“Are you injured?” A male voice asks, a voice strikingly similar to that of the pilot.

“No. Is there a Jedi Healer here?” She asks and the man stiffens in front of her.

“We do our job very well, sir. There aren’t any Jedi in here.” His voice is still respectful, but she can tell he’s angry. 

“No, that isn’t why I asked.” Lyra tries to fix her sentence but she realizes that there isn’t any saving it. She takes a deep breath and tries again. “I wanted to know who was in charge. I’m here to help.” The man looks her up and down, and then his shoulders soften. 

“The chief medical officer is in the back, but our third tent is understaffed.” He says and she smiles.

“Will you show me?” Lyra asks, and he leads her out of the tent. She follows him into the third tent and sees one frantic medic running between at least ten beds with soldiers on them. She pushes past her guide then, and grabs the medic’s arm. He turns to her, blood dots his blue scrubs.

“Are you hurt?” He says quickly, looking her up and down. She refrains from smiling and shakes her head.

“I’m a,” Lyra hesitates to say Healer, it feels pretentious in front of this man who is literally saving lives, “A medic. I’m here to help.” She finishes and his shoulders slump down with visible relief. 

“Thank goodness. Will you start at the other end of the beds?” He hands her a belt with wristbands spilling out of the pockets. “Blue wristbands are for non-critical patients, red wristbands are for critical patients. After you finish classifying, start with the critical patients.” He looks down at her as she clips the belt around her waist. “Sir.” He finishes quickly after he sees the lightsaber hanging by her hip. Lyra waves him off.

“Lyra is fine. Clearly, you’re more in charge than I am.” She takes off her robe and her saber and throws them in the back of the tent, near what looks like a supply tower. She heads towards the other end of the row of beds and starts triaging for injuries. 

“What’s your name?” She asks him as she unbuckles a soldier’s chestplate to get a better look at his injury. The medic pauses and looks over at her with a strange look on his face.

“Stitches.” He says and she cracks a smile. 

“Not a bad name for a medic.” Lyra looks up at him and the strange look on his face hasn’t changed. She decides to ignore it, and she reaches to lift the helmet off the soldier. She balks when she lifts the helmet, “He…” She looks back up at the medic and down to her patient. They have the same face. “Are you two relat-'' She starts to ask but then Healer Allie throws the curtains open and marches into the tent.

“Naberrie, thank goodness.” Lyra stands quickly and Allie nods at her. “We’ve been looking for you. There are Jedi who need you.” She goes to turn around, but Lyra stops her.

“Healer Allie, I’m busy here.” Lyra gestures to the tent full of soldiers and Stitches behind her who hasn’t picked his head up since Allie walked in.

“These are just soldiers.” She waves her hand and Lyra takes a step back in shock, “They can handle their own.” Allie sees the look on Lyra’s face and sighs. “We have more soldiers, we don’t have very many more Jedi.” Stitches still hasn’t looked at Lyra and she makes her decision then. 

“You can handle the Jedi without me,” Lyra steps back to the soldier she was helping and ignores Healer Allie’s second sigh. “These men need me more than you do.” Lyra places her hands on the soldier in front of her and begins healing him. 

“I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.” Lyra whispers as Healer Allie huffs and leaves the tent. Lyra can feel the calming presence of the Living Force sweep through her body.

The process is quick in this case; his wound was clear of shrapnel. His bleeding stops as Lyra knits his flesh back together and when she’s finished, she looks up to see Stitches staring at her with his mouth open. 

“How?” He asks and she smiles as the slight glow fades from her hands; she moves to the next soldier.

“The Force.” Lyra says and shrugs. Stitches’ face hasn’t changed much and she laughs again. She starts healing the next soldier and looks at Stitches again. “Now, explain to me why you all have the same face.”

divider by: @maysdigitalarts

taglist: @lady--kenobi @sleepingsun501 @cocolinagoodnight

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#abd #abd: fbw #original female character #jedi healer oc #oc lyra amidala naberrie

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Storia Di Musica #277 - AA.VV., Romeo + Juliet (music from the motion picture), 1996

La serie maggiaiola di dischi colonna sonora volge al termine. Per mia scelta iniziale, non ho considerato i classici opere di quei grandiosi giganti che hanno fatto delle colonne sonore quasi un nuovo ramo artistico (penso a Morricone, Zimmer, Williams, Rota, Badalamenti per dire i primi che mi vengono in mente), ho considerato alcuni lavori dove l’uso del brano rock fosse alquanto innovativo, direi di costruzione delle scene e non di semplice accompagnamento, e che furono anche motore di successo sia per il film che per le canzoni che compongono la colonna sonora. La scelta di oggi è caduta sul film di Buz Luhrmann, Romeo + Juliet, del 1996, una ripresa quasi del tutto integrale del classico dramma di William Shakespeare: il regista utilizza in maniera quasi identica trama e dialoghi, cambiando solo l’ambientazione, spostando le vicende dalla splendida Verona italica a Verona Beach, sobborgo di Los Angeles, negli anni ‘90 del ‘900, dove Montecchi e Capuleti sono due potenti famiglie dedite al malaffare che si combattono non a colpi di spada ma di armi da fuoco. Luhramm affida i temi orchestrali a Nellee Hooper, Craig Armstrong e Marius De Vries e ad una serie di canzoni rock, che compongono il primo volume della colonna sonora. Infatti ne furono pubblicati due: il primo è il riferimento alla storia di oggi, il secondo uscì dopo il successo del primo, racchiudendo i temi orchestrali principali e alcune canzoni secondarie. Il disco racchiudi molteplici artisti e molteplici generi: la canzone principale, il tema d’amore, è la ballata pianistica, toccante, Kissing You di Des’ree, che in quei mesi aveva scalato le classifiche di mezzo mondo con il sound accattivante del suo singolo You Gotta Be. Hooper e De Vries remixano una b-side del primo singolo dei Garbage, #1 Crush, che inizia con i gemiti sensuali di Shirley Manson. I Butthole Surfers perdono buona parte della furia iconoclasta della loro musica, ma regalano un brano eccellente in Whatever (I Had a Dream), scritto per l’occasione. C’è molta musica indie: dagli Everclear con Local God, il duo degli One Inch Punch con Pretty Piece Of Flesh, una delle canzoni più famose di Gavin Friday, Angel, che verrà usata anche in molte pubblicità. C’è una parte che recupera due canzoni del passato: Young Hearts Run Free è una canzone scritta da David Crawford, che fu portata al successo nel 1976 da Candi Station, fino al numero 1, e che qui è ripresa da Kym Gazelle; Everybody's Free (To Feel Good) fu il brano più utilizzato nei club di Ibiza nel 1991, ed è il maggior successo di Rozalla, una artista dance dello Zimbabwe, ed è ripresa qui da Quindon Tarver, che ha pure un cameo nel film. C’è anche un trittico di canzoni di gruppi svedesi: la delicata Little Star di Stina Nordenstam, il più grande successo del gruppo The Wannadies, You And Me Song (del 1994), ma soprattutto Lovefool dei Cardigans di Nina Perssons, uscito poche settimane prima come singolo e che divenne un successo strepitoso anche per via del clamore del film. Rimangono una bellissima ballata di Mundy, un cantautore irlandese che diventerà un produttore discografico fondando una sua propria etichetta, con To You I Bestow, e una canzone dei Radiohead, Talk Show Host, una b-side del singolo Street Spirit (Fade Out), che faceva parte del disco dello stesso anno, 1996, The Bends. Thom Yorke scrisse però per il film una canzone speciale, ispirata, secondo tutte le interviste che in seguito concesse, ad un’altra famosa trasposizione del dramma del Bardo Romeo e Giulietta, quella del 1968 diretta da Franco Zeffirelli. Exit Music (For a Film) fu usata per i titoli di coda del film di Luhrmann, ma non nella colonna sonora per precisa scelta di Yorke: la canzone diventerà poi leggendaria poichè è nella scaletta di Ok Computer, lo storico capolavoro dell’anno successivo, 1997. Luhrmman userà in tutti i suoi lavori brani rock in modo particolare, e massima testimonianza di ciò sono il musical Moulin Rouge del 2001 e Elvis del 2022, dove in entrambi i casi porta a casa una nomination all’ Oscar per la miglior regia. Il film sarà un successo al botteghino, e lo fu anche la colonna sonora: arriverà al numero 2 della classifica di Billboard, e venderà solo negli USA 3 milioni di copie, fu il trampolino di lancio per gli attori (Di Caprio l’anno successivo, nel 1997, era in Titanic), per alcuni dei protagonisti di questa colonna sonora (soprattutto i Cardigans) e per lo stesso Luhrmann. 

#aa.vv. #romeo+juliet (o.s.t.) #1996 #recensione