#kryze sisters

[youare7567]

Bo-Katan and the people who call her just Bo.

[rainybearstudio]

I will literally never shut up about this.

I am about to become a level of insufferable y’all have NEVER seen.

[jewishcissiekj]

"Filoni has a whole story in his mind with the Kryze sisters' origin story and all" so? he isn't special. half my mutuals also have that and any of them could write a Kryze sisters show better than anything he ever came up with. why do I need to care about him

[now-you-sound-like-a-jedi]

Sophocles, Antigone (Jean Anouilh) x The Clone Wars: The Lawless

[sapphicsparkles]

It's my birthday! Have some unfinished matching portraits of the Kryze sisters

[skygirlstars]

Satine Kryze Week Day 2 -- storge / familial love

Satine and Bo as little kids because I like to imagine they were very close as children (because I like to be sad about Star Wars, I guess). not really happy with this one because I'm used to just drawing busts, not full bodies, but I'm trying to branch out!

@satinekryzeweek

[justanotherdinboshipper]

Kryze sisters have a thing on arguing conversing with their man while they're lounging on their bed/throne.

The tension in both shots though.

[armoralor]

for @bokatanweek | day three: bo-katan & satine | Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover, Elizabeth (1998), Battlestar Galactica S01E11

[imjustapoorwayfaringgeek]

Sisters

Every royal family deserves a family painting

[rainybearstudio]

Just found your DinBo art. I think I love you. It's all amazing, and the art with Satine made me tear up 😭😭😭

I think I love you too! 😭 if you’re looking for more excellent art I would highly recommend @neverhadpogsoup as their photoshop work is stellar.

Here’s a little AU Bo and Satine to say thanks :)

[obitinenovelwhen]

Satine Kryze Week: DAY TWO - storge

@satinekryzeweek

This is an excerpt from a WIP fanfic. Hopefully I’ll be able to share the whole story someday soon! Also, apologies that this one was so dark. I lost a parent when I was a teen and wrote some of that experience into this fic.

CW: Death of a parent, childhood trauma, PTSD, traumatic grief, implied violence

EXCERPT FROM SANCTUARY, AN OBITINE STORY:

The night everything changes for the Kryze family, when their world as they know it falls apart, Satine is only twelve. Like most her age, she’s awkward, still growing into her new height. And painfully self-conscious—both of the changes to her body and the sudden blush that touches her cheeks whenever she realizes that she a friend or a peer is rather nice to look at. Her people may be locked in one of its bloodiest civil wars—and her parents may be growing more and more concerned for their family’s safety day-by-day—but to Satine, her existence still has its share of preadolescent concerns.

She is, despite her status as the daughter of Mandalore’s leader, extraordinarily ordinary.

So when the night comes, Satine’s thoughts are not fretting over the danger that might befall their family, even though she is acutely aware of these. For now, she is not even thinking of the war, rare as that is for her. Instead, she finds herself reflecting on the past day with a small smile, thinking back on the modest yet meaningful gifts she received for her birthday and the day she spent with her mother, just the two of them. Days like these are a luxury, with her mother and father’s attention being continually drawn away by politicking and negotiation, so she cherishes a day as her mother’s sole focus like a rare gem.

After this night is over, it will be even more precious.

As Satine drifts to sleep in her bed, warm beneath her quilt, she doesn’t know this will be the last time she’ll sleep peacefully. Doesn’t know that in less than two hours, her world will be turned upside. The only thought on her mind is that she hopes she can have tea with mother tomorrow—and maybe even her father, if times allows. Or maybe this is simply what she dreams of once she’s asleep; trauma and the passage of time will make her memories of this night blur together, making it difficult to determine where one memory starts and another begins.

What she does know for sure is that when she does wake up, her heart is hammering like mad.

At first Satine thinks it is because she has had a bad dream, the ones where her parents and sister are executed right before her eyes. But then she hears the sound of jetpacks firing up and she knows the terror gripping her isn’t from a nightmare. Something has happened, something horrible and dreadful beyond her imagination. Something powerful enough to freeze her in place for what seems like an eternity.

In actuality, Satine only lies there, stock-still in her bed, for only a minute or so. Not very long, in the grand scheme of things—but this hardly comforts her. To be frozen, locked in place, makes her feel powerless and small, as if she is a single grain of sand in the center of a blackhole. As if she is nothing, no one, and never will be again.

If only this would be the last time she feels this way.

Thoughts of the future, however, are far from her mind in this moment. When her body finally lets her move, she’s no longer thinking of how she might again feel small and helpless, at the mercy of the world around her. Instead, Satine feels her whole being coursing with a sudden burst of energy, alight with the adrenaline and fear and a singular need to find her.

To find her mother.

It’s strange, in retrospect—that she somehow knew, in this moment, that it was her mother who was in danger. But this strangeness does not occur to Satine. She does not wonder why her body screams the truth—that her mother is dead, gone, taken from this life—while her mind is still reeling. She doesn’t think of anything, really. All her attention and energy and focus are on moving her body forward, toward the direction of where she last heard the jetpacks.

When she gets to her parents’ bedchamber, it’s just as she feared.

Just as she’d seen in her nightmares.

Where the stone wall of her parents’ chamber should be, there’s simply rubble on all sides, tons of carefully placed rocks and minerals spread like shattered glass across the ground, the night sky suddenly peeking through. Though there are no flames to be seen, she can smell smoke, acrid and tart in the night air. A moment or two later, she actually sees the smoke, curling lazily up from the smoldering debris, and she wonders what could have burned. Especially in this place, where she is surrounded by stone on all sides.

And then her eyes drift downward, and Satine sees her mother.

For as long as she has left to live, Satine never forgets this sight. She never forgets the shock, the disbelief, the sudden feeling that she has lost a part of herself that she could never, ever, get back. And she never loses the memory of how she wasn’t sure what to do—of what she even could do—until…

Until she hears her sister’s voice just behind her, small and uncertain.

“Satine?”

Satine whirls to face her sister, almost crying out in shock. For an unguarded moment, her sister sees all of her—all of her terror, all of her panic and fear. Then she sees the look on her sister’s face and she knows that she must put on a mask. That she must shield her younger sister and be the strong one, the one who makes sure they all make it to another day.

“Bo,” she says calmly, evenly. “You need to go find Father.”

Bo blinks, tears beginning to pool in her soft green eyes. “But—“

“But now, Bo. Go find Father. He’ll know what to do.”

Bo opens her small mouth again as if to protest, then snaps it shut. She immediately takes off the down the hall, to find wherever their father is instead of being here. Instead of being with their mother.

She feels sick, even thinking this. Because the implication is simple: If he were here, he would be dead, too.

And she doesn’t want this—doesn’t want her father dead alongside her mother. Several years later, when she receives word of his death while attending university on Coruscant, she is almost as devastated as she is now. Almost as broken. It’s just that…it’s difficult for her to define, but perhaps she could describe the feeling as resentment. Resentment that he was somewhere else, that he let the insurgents cut through their guards and security measures and get to their mother. That he let her, and their family, down. Not by being cruel or neglectful, but simply because he fell asleep while reviewing the security measures in the family’s cellar, insulated from the attack that awoke twelve-year-old Satine.

Because this is something people often forget about the Duchess Satine: Despite all her accomplishments and poise, despite her formidability in the political arena, her mother died when she was twelve. Only twelve. And like every other twelve-year-old in the galaxy, she reaches for something familiar to hold onto in this moment. Something to ground her and remind her that the current terror gripping her body is not all there is left in the world.

So as she waits for her sister to return with their Father, as she waits to put on the mask of strength again, the future Duchess of Mandalore reaches into the pocket of her nightgown and holds onto the first thing she touches.

She doesn’t let go.

[now-you-sound-like-a-jedi]

You know what? Fuck it. Here's a list of some of my Bo-Katan and Satine related headcanons

(most of these are dark and/or depressing because, well, it's them)

When they were kids, Satine taught Bo how to make flower crowns. Even after everything that happened, Bo never forgot it. She only ever made one in adulthood: a delicate wreath of white lilies which she left on Satine’s grave.

The first time Satine ever killed someone, she was 16: they were cornered by a rival clan at the start of the civil wars, and she did what she had to do to protect herself and her little sister. The first time Bo-Katan killed someone was also at the age of 16: Pre Vizsla put a blaster in her hand, pointed it at a deserter's head and told her to fire it, or the next shot would be through her own head.

They used to have matching beskar'ta necklaces. When Bo ran away to Concordia, she left hers sitting on her pillow. Satine kept it, and when Bo-Katan went back to Kalevala decades later, long after Satine was dead, she found it and started wearing it again under her armour.

After Bo-Katan left, Satine used to leave the window in Bo's old bedroom open a few inches every night before she went to sleep. Her guards kept trying to dissuade her, saying that it posed a security risk, but Satine didn't care. She just wanted to make sure her little sister had a way to get in if she ever decided to come home.

Bo-Katan got that scar on her forehead from the first and last time she ever spoke up in Satine’s defence in front of Pre Vizsla.

Bo-Katan never wore makeup in her Death Watch days because Pre told her it made her look too much like Satine. After they were both dead, she started wearing it all the time.

Bo-Katan loves and hates talking to Ahsoka about Satine. Ahsoka is the only living friend she has left who actually knew her sister, and Bo likes being able to talk about her with one of the rare people who never believed any of Pre Vizsla's lies about her. But, at the same time, it always leaves her feeling guilty, because Ahsoka did more to help Satine in the few years they were acquainted than Bo did in her entire life.

After reclaiming Mandalore, one of the first things Bo-Katan does is rebuild Peace Park in Sundari. She replaces the war memorial and carves Satine’s name on it, and plants a garden of wildflowers around it.

[sapphicsparkles]

nobody asked for Bo and Satine's info book pages to be photoshopped together but you're welcome

[callmevexx]

Live action Satine when?

@impossibleprincess35 's Cate post reminded me I still had this somewhere ^^

[impossibleprincess35]

Just rewatched this episode last night and this is the best way to explain the Satine and Bo-Katan dynamic as it exists in "Asphodel."

The scene I'm referring to is below the cut. (Curse words, FYI.)

[Excerpt from chapter 51 - "Damage Control"]

The sisters looked at each other, silent for a moment as though they were weighing one another’s mettle.

Satine finally broke through the silence and insisted, “I will not fight.”

Bo squinted in disgust.

“Not in the way you fight,” Satine added.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bo asked.

“You will not manipulate me or guilt me into forsaking my ideology,” Satine articulated as she pointed her long, thin index finger in her sister’s direction. “Your people don’t trust me? Good, because I don’t trust them, either. If you want to fix this mess that you’ve made, you need to summon the courage to go to them and plead your case.”

Frustration made Bo-Katan’s voice crack as she replied in a frenzy, “And what are you going to do?”

Satine recoiled just as visibly as her sister had done earlier, blinking at the audacity she had to ask her such a thing. When she found the words to speak, she practically spit them out like venom as she answered, “I’ll spend my days fucking the Jetii for all it matters,” and she managed not to cringe at the vulgarity of her answer.

“You have work to do, little sister, and if you manage to orchestrate a united front of your terrorist friends, then we’ll talk about what I will do,” Satine continued.

Before Bo-Katan could rise to her feet, Satine hurried to hers and turned to snatch the empty martini glass up with her hand. She muttered loudly enough for her sister to hear her, “Who would have thought that Death Watch would scatter like roaches to all corners of the system? I find it wildly entertaining that for all the loyalty that required carrying out such an egregious attack on Sundari, you all have shown yourselves to be selfish and cowardly.”

The sisters found themselves face to face when Bo-Katan rose up, clutching her helmet at her side, and although Satine towered over her by a few inches, even she could see that her sister was a formidable foe.

“The armor your Jetii stole, I need it back,” Bo growled as her nostrils flared and she glared at her older counterpart. “It belongs with his family and they want it, since his body went up in flames with that death trap of a ship Kenobi arrived in.”

Satine held a stern look as she replied, “I’ll send along the request.”

“Is that all?” Bo-Katan audaciously asked.

“What do you expect me to do?” Satine snapped back with fire in her voice.

Bo-Katan was torn between anger and a pathological need to please someone in charge, and her sister was the closest thing she had at the moment to a leader. The sudden taste of bile came to her, but she swallowed back her pride and leaned into that desire to prove herself.

Her angry eyes lowered and she nodded.

“I’ll get in touch with my contacts and see what I can arrange,” she said obediently, though begrudgingly.

Satine glared as her fingers gripped the stem of the glass dangerously. Her anger was palpable, but she noticed how her sister responded submissively to a harsh talking to, and she decided it was a suitable strategy for dealing with her - at least until she knew her better, until Bo-Katan opened up to her and helped her understand the life they’d missed out on.

“Good. When you have a bit of might behind you, then we’ll talk about what we do next,” Satine said flippantly, raising her chin to look down the slope of her nose at the girl.

Bo-Katan nodded. “I will.”

“Now, go, get out of here,” Satine ordered, angling her head in the direction of the path that led back out of the Outlander Club, and then she turned away to dismiss her sister in a manner she would find easy to comprehend and obey.

The younger Kryze sister responded as though it was a reflex with a nod before she pulled on her helmet. The oxygenation seal activated, and as the interior screen of the T-visor came to life, her sister walked towards the bar where Caepo Goss was nursing a beer and Bo took a deep breath, tasting the sterile air inside her buy’ce.

She had her orders.

(from this chapter on Ao3)