#satine week

[machinerismsx]

Not to be that person but isn’t there already a Satine Week? Making a duplicate event is just going to confuse people.

[cinciri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Tagging: @satineweek

DAY 4: Cat

Quote prompts: “Peace is not absence of conflict, it is the ability to handle conflict by peaceful means.”

“Duchess?..”

Cody’s quiet call almost makes her flinch, but, instantly controlling herself, Satine turns around and with a polite nod accepts her glass of Tihaar from his hands, internally rejoicing that no one is demanding answers for her behavior.

“On Mandalore people believes that physical death is only a continuation of life, whereas during life a mandalorian can die if there is no one to remembered him and his deeds,” shaking the glass, she thoughtfully looks at how the Tihaar slides along a glass's walls, and then raises her hand with the drink high above her head. “Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Jedi and a soldier for the Galaxy, but I will remember him differently. I will remember his mistakes, his fears, his doubts… I will remember the person, and not the ideal, a soulless image which the Holonet is replete. And I know that I will not be alone in this memory.”

Blinking away completely uninvited tears, Satine drained the entire portion of Tihaar in one gulp and lowers the glass, when the doors to the dining room slide apart. Because she is standing on the table, she can see a large red cat frozen for a moment on the threshold and then rushing headlong into the crowd, which starting a wave of altercations with the very first meter covered.

“Ouch.”

“Oh!”

“Kriff.”

“You’re a bantha poodoo…”

“Shab! Whose cat is this?”

“What a hell a cat even do in the barracks?”

“Don't look at me like that. This time it's definitely not me!”

“Catch the whiskered one!”

“A сlanker in my ass! He also bites!”

In the end, the Clone troopers moving apart, but somehow confusingly, asynchronously, and the Cat, meowing desperately, apparently unable to bear it. Judging by the sharp cry, he climbs over one of the soldiers, rises higher – partially on soldier's head – and looks around, gently running its paws over a trooper's hair and shoulders. The Clones those standing nearby are trying to grab him, but the Cat, having caught Satine’s gaze, gracefully, despite its impressive size, jumps onto the shoulders of another trooper, then onto the next one… When he overcomes about half the way – still looking at her – the doors open again, this time revealing Quinlan Vos with a cut, slightly bleeding cheek and several Clones from the 501st Legion, looking inside with curiosity.

“You a Sith's spawn!” the kiffar yells without sparing his throat. “Of the two of us, it always was me who been the pain in the ass, but this is too much even for me! Get out in my way!” with a sharp movement of his hands he pushes the Clones away.

The Cat, turning around for a moment, looks at Satine with completely humanized despair and jumps again, but, not calculating its strength, misses and with some kind of surprised “meow” falls to the floor. Cat's gaze haunts her, and, having passed the glass to someone, she descends in front of the table supported by the Clones, but before their hands leave her hips and elbows, the Cat is literally a couple of meters away and with a hiss, swings a paw at Boil's leg whom standing to her right, when suddenly Quinlan, having broken through the crowd, grabs the Cat by the base of its tail and pulls towards himself.

And then happens something unimaginable.

The Cat, transferring all its weight to its front paws, with a powerful blow from its hind paws to Quinlan's chest who is swearing dirty in the Hutt's language throws him back several tens of meters. And, baring its teeth angrily at him, the Cat in one graceful jump end up on the table behind Satine.

“Oh,” the kiffar, clinking his teeth, rises, carefully rubbing the place of impact. “What a son of…”

Satine feel a warm between her shoulder blades – the Cat rests the top of its head on her back – and then, probably because of the huge tail wrapped around her waist, this warmth spreads to her stomach.

“What a cute tail.” Boil reaches for the tail with admiration, but the Cat, immediately bristling, hits him on the hand, so much so that the Clone grabs his wrist. “Not a cute cat. A bad cat. Very bad cat!”

“A badly-catly!” someone from the crowd enthusiastically suggests.

“No.” another one picks up. “The cat-beast!”

Satine, not knowing what to expect from a clearly enraged animal, carefully turns around.

Continue read on ao3

[cinciri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Tagging: @satineweek

DAY 3: Tears

Quote prompts: “Sometimes heroes fall, despite their strength”

The Cat, which having already crossed the arch, begins to slow down for some reason, desperately clinging to the gaps between the marble slabs, and Quinlan, still screaming, catches him as he runs, and then, stopping with difficulty, also notices her like everyone else. And they silents at once and looking only at her now.

“Duchess Satine,” Quinlan nods, breathing heavily.

And his disheveled appearance, the way he tries to hold on the struggling Cat, breaks the last wall of her restraint.

“And you also called yourself his best friend, Master Vos,” Satine recalls in an icy tone. “Where were you when his body was burned? Hanging out with your new best friend?”

She waves her hand, pointing to the Cat floundering in his arms.

“Satine,” Padmé jumps up to her. “Let's get out of here.”

“Oh, I will,” mercilessly throwing her hand off her forearm, she glances at everyone with burning look. “I will, but first I will have a good look at all these hypocrites who dared to call themselves his friends.”

“Duchess,” Plo Koon nods at her again, very politely. “The loss of Master Kenobi is very difficult for the Order. He was a hero and…”

“Yes, yes, of course, Master Koon,” Satine nods in response, grinning. “He was a hero, and sometimes heroes fall, despite their strength. But he was not a hero or a Jedi or a general to me. To me he was just a hunam. He was my friend. My true friend.”

“Satine,” Padmé again tries to take her hand, but she, snatching her wrist, moves away from her.

“You are all cowards who don’t have the courage to admit that he meant something to you,” she turns to Anakin, who is just looking away from Padmé, full of despair. “You was like a little brother to him. You told me yourself that he is more than just a friend to you.”

Anakin wants to answer something - to justify himself, no doubt - but she is already looking at Plo Koon.

“You was his main support when Qui-Gon died on Naboo. You replaced him a father whom he never knew… And you,” her eyes, when she looks at Quinlan again, are full of tears, so his outlines are slightly blurred at the edges. “I’ve only seen you once, Quinlan Vos. Two minutes and a dozen sentences, and it already became clear to me how dear you are to him. And you didn't come…”

“Duchess,” Quinlan, taking the noticeably quiet Cat more comfortably, carefully moves closer. “Duchess, please…”

“You didn’t come to say goodbye to him, Quinlan,” she’s shaking all over, and her voice is very hoarse. “You were not with him in the last minutes of his life and did not even come to say last goodbye.”

He takes another step towards her, but Satine, shaking her head, retreats again.

“You are all pathetic, cowardly pretenders! But, unlike all of you, I’m not afraid or ashamed to admit my feelings,” raising her head proudly, she wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I loved him. My ancestors are witnesses to this, I loved him like no one else and will love him until the end of my life! But you bunch of droids will never understand my feelings.”

Continue read on ao3

[cinciri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Tagging: @satineweek

DAY 2: Mother

Quote prompts: “What do you see when you think about the future?”

It becomes so quiet that everything can hear is the hum of the speeders running somewhere outside the hangar and the droids repairing the fighters. In this oppressive silence, the Clones look at her, and she looks at them, proudly accepting a new wave of discontent, which has quickly replaced such a ringing laugh. It seems to her that one of them is leaving, but those standing closer don't move, and she, not wanting to lose her chance, doesn't dare to find out whether it is true or not.

“We are soldiers,” Cody finally begins to say again, and this is a first time in her memory that she has no idea what is hidden behind the calm expression on the face her interlocutor. “We are good soldiers. And good soldiers follow orders.”

“This war will end someday,” while she speaks her gaze does not leave his face. “What will you all do then? What do you see when you think about the future?”

Another pause almost causes a shiver, but she is a Mando, she will not allow fear to make her retreat and continues to boldly look into the brown eyes almost ten meters away from her.

“You are asking a very dangerous questions, Duchess,” Cody’s voice is now noticeably quieter and even trembles a little. “Dangerous and too political. Don't involve us in your games with the Senate.”

“These are not games, Commander.”

She speaks more quietly too, almost in a whisper, and the Clones, not wanting to miss their words, move closer, tightening the ring that has formed around her, in any other situation - with any other creature - perceived as an approaching danger.

“It's worry. Because you are children,” Satine puts her right hand on Crys's shoulder standing next to her. “You are the children of Mandalore. You are my children,” with a sad smile turning to the left, towards Boil, she touches his temple with her fingertips, and leaves her palm on his cheeks. “And as your mother, I will worry about you and want the best for you.”

“We are clones,” Rex interjects. “And as people in your sector like to say, Jango Fett was not a Mando.”

“Mando is not blood and, despite our traditions, it is far from just the oaths. This is the spirit. This is the rod. And Jango gave you this, even if his gift was passed on to you only in fight training,” with a smile, still a little sad, she glances at them. “Duty is not an empty phrase for me, and the fact that you do not refuse it does you honor. But when the war is over, when you don't know where to go, you can always come to me. And I will give you shelter, I will give you protection, I will give you… a clan, if that is what your heart desires.”

“And why would you do this?” the Clone that looking at her has a prosthetic eye instead of a right eye, and she feels sad that she doesn't have the opportunity to turn back time and protect him. “We are not your people, no matter what you say. We are just clones. We were created to fight. To the war.”

“No one is created for war,” Satine objects gently.

Continue read on ao3

[satineweek]

Satine Week: Day 1 - Jewel

Over the course of the week, I'll do my best to collect posts that people have intentionally made for Satine Week so that after all seven days, we have a master list of sorts. I'll keep updating as people post, so look for the most recent version!

(If I miss something that's been posted, kindly draw my attention to it in the comments!)

I highly encourage you to enjoy your fellow celebrants' work and lavish them profusely with praise and adoration (including comments, tags, kudos, likes, and reblogs)!

Thanks to all who have participated so far! -Jess

Phoenix_Rose Jewels (fic)

@cinciri День 1: Украшение - Day 1: Decoration (fic)

@impossibleprincess35 The Sundari Archives (fic)

@queenpinesofdomino Space Vogue Cover (art) @voidartisan (TelerinJedi) where the stolen roses grow (fic)

@mercysong-tardis Jeweled-armor dress (art)

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Satine Week

Hello, friends! It's Jess! I'm your friendly neighborhood mod for Satine Week this year, but I'm also hoping to participate. Unfortunately ... (gestures all around) life.

But now that a big work project is done and I'm back home two states over and Easter is done (He is risen!), Satine Week is the biggest thing on my radar this week. I'm hoping to do a bit of writing, but also update some old metas and write some new ones.

Thanks so much to those who have already participated! Also, if (gestures all around) life is also keeping you from creating new fic or art, I encourage you to put it out of your mind! We're just here to celebrate a pacifist duchess, so feel free to share gifs and screencaps and posts about your favorite things about Satine and anything like that!

[cinciri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Tagging: @satineweek

DAY 1: Jewel

Quote prompts: “When your life is on display, you cherish the things that are yours alone.”

As she approaches, his gaze slides along her body several times, almost without stopping. To her great regret, he clenched his hands, which were previously hanging loosely at his hips, into fists, but as soon as she stops in front of him he unclenches it with an exhalation.

“To be honest, I’m still not sure that this is a bracelet,” while Satine, lifting her sleeve, unfastens the beskar clasp on the leather cord, his attentive gaze doesn't leave her wrist. “My father wore his around his neck, and my mother… I don’t know. I’ve never seen it.”

“Me too,” Obi-Wan responds quietly and, when her eyebrows arch questioningly, he explains: “If one of your parents gave it to you personally, then you could only receive it before… before we met. But I didn't see this one. Never.”

“When your life is on display, you cherish the things that are yours alone. Cherish and hide. Here,” with the clasp finally is done, and she hands him the leather cord with a smile. “I wish you had it.”

“What?” blinking in surprise, he even retreats. “I… I can’t accept it.”

She squints suspiciously, still holding her hand outstretched.

“You said that Jedi are not forbidden to accept a gifts.”

“I did. But it belonged to one of your parents.”

“Yes, it belonged. And I really want it to belong to you now,” her gaze falls on the leather cord, against the background of her pale skin it seems even darker than it really is. “It always seemed to me that I was more of its temporary custodian than its real owner.”

“But…”

“Obi-Wan, please.”

Pursing his lips and yet nodding somehow completely exhausted, Obi-Wan nevertheless takes the cord - carefully, trying not to touch her palm - and, to her delight, wraps it around his neck and begins to fasten it.

“You know,” she allowed to sound herself a little flirtatiously, “they were passed down in my mother’s family for several dozen generations. She gave the second one to my father during their marriage vows.”

His fingers, still gripping the beskar clasp, tremble slightly.

“It's warm,” he says quietly.

“Really?” Satine open her mouth in surprise. “I've always had a cold one. May I?..”

Continue read on ao3

[satineweek]

Hey there! I notice that posts for the event week are tagged with obitine and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Are other ships allowed? Or is this an obitine event?

Hi Nonny, good question! In general, I have been tagging Satine Week marketing posts with Obitine and Obi-Wan Kenobi in an attempt to spread the word to fans searching for those specific tags because there is likely to be significant overlap for people who like Satine.

Once we are in Satine Week, I will not do that unless I'm posting/reposting something related to those tags.

Obitine Week will be happening later this summer, but you can write about any or all ships during Satine Week.

Hope that helps!