Chaotickylia​ // Kylia Horne

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ? how do they express that pride ?

// Sabine definitely takes gratification in the company they keep. After choosing to leave the Imperial Academy, she was ostracized from their family and spent some time wondering whether or not they deserved the isolation they received. Ketsu’s betrayal only strengthened this resolve and left them in doubt about their worthiness of friendship. This affected her ability to trust, and the first few months with the Spectres were a rough adjustment. Now, though, she loves them all fiercely. Sabine can’t believe that she got lucky enough to make the new family that they did, and they hold the Ghost crew in high respect and admiration. Though they’ll brag about their second family for hours and hours to any willing ear, she might not always vocalize that respect directly to the Spectres. Instead, she likes to focus on silent acts of love. If you find yourself with a new bottle of your favorite spirit of choice, find your blasters checked and polished, or if you feature in one of their artworks, just know-- Sabine truly loves you. // 

@spectreoflasan

thinking about ThemTM

Anonymous asked | Favourite Mandalorian Characters? — The Wren Family

location: mandalore

characters: tarre vizsla, sabine wren, din djarin

finitefm // tarre vizsla

cracks   of   golden   beskar   GLEAMED   under   the   harsh   light   as   they   watched   the   contrasting   pair   of   mandalorians   make   their   way   through   the   ruins   of   the   square.   one,   purely   unadorned   silver   –   the   other,   the   most   eyecatching   burst   of   color   that   they   had   ever   before   seen.   that   alone   would   have   been   enough   to   draw   their   attention   without   the   force   screaming   like   a   JAI’GALAAR   in   their   ears,   a   resounding   call   of   fate   pulling   them   forwards.

the   silhouette   that   had   graced   a   thousand   mandalorian   memorials   stepped   out   of   the   rubble,   a   hand   raised   in   calm   greeting.   they   had   no   darksaber   to   raise,   but   a   blade   lay   sheathed   on   their   hip.   the   shriekhawk   symbol   rested   like   a   crown   on   the   front   of   their   helmet,   their   dark   cape   swaying   behind   them.   they   looked   as   if   they   had   stepped   out   of   a   LEGEND   to   take   physical   form,   and   maybe   they   had   :   tarre   vizsla,   far   from   their   time,   mand’alor   that   was   and   shall   be.

they   stood   where   once   had   been   a   CITY   ,   now   left   for   the   sand   to   reclaim   as   so   many   pieces   of   mandalorian   history   had   been,   preserved   only   in   holos.   it   was   undomed,   no   longer   suitable   for   life,   but   it   had   been   a   home   to   them.   they   had   laid   their   early   plans   here,   had   raised   their   call   for   vengeance   –   the   site   of   the   old   vizsla   compound,   the   old   vizsla   MASSACRE.   they   had   eventually   left   it   abandoned   during   their   lifetime,   privately   named   the   ground   unholy.   battles   had   raged   there.   history   was   made   there.   the   first   true   test   of   their   darksaber.   it   was   a   place   of   memory,   and   it   burned.

but   the   unflinching   metal   of   their   helmet   revealed   nothing   of   the   ache   beneath   their   boots   as   they   came   to   a   stop   in   front   of   the   pair.   ❛   su   cuy’gar,   ❜   they   greeted,   head   tilted   with   curiosity.   ❛   i   had   thought   this   place   FORGOTTEN.   ❜   they   knew   nothing   of   any   remembrance   by   house   vizsla   before   the   purge.   they   had   barely   begun   to   grasp   the   spread   of   their   name.   they   were   simply   glad   to   find   that   they   were   not   ALONE.

.

The pain was overwhelming. Even without an inclination to the Force, the grief filled their bones, pulled the breath from her lungs. The last few days had been...harsh, to say the least. Never had Sabine been more grateful for the friend at their side, for a companion bound by shared creed and skill. A few nights they had traveled, rising by the light of the sun and eating in what privacy and seclusion could be found among the ruins. Guilt filled her every step, shame flooded their senses as she weighed the cost of their actions in the days of the Empire. But that’s what this was about, right? Making peace with the past?

The passage held its own form of healing, like the sting of bacta spray on an open suture. Finally, they were approaching familiar territory, the ruins of their childhood quite literally brought to her feet. Yet, by the light of the suspended star above, a figure stood, dark armor casting shadows across the wasteland. As they drew nearer, the figure rendered itself familiar, a sculpture given life. One memory flashed vivid, a pilgrimage to visit a famed statue with family in tow. The countless times they’d held this visage in sight-- osi’kyr, was this real?

How was this possible? Sure, Sabine didn’t understand much about the Force, but this? This seemed too haamyc to be true. But, who else had this armor? The stature? Shit, how was she supposed to respond? If they were right, then this was none other than--

“Tarre Vizsla? By the Ka’ra...”

Paralyzed with shock, they fell on one knee, head bowed in respect. Hundreds of times she had seen their image, had read their teachings, but this was something else entirely. And, if they were wrong, at least she had her vod to cover her six.

@spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

“I am cool,” Zeb snapped. “You know what’s not cool? Karking up your guts before it’s even hit kriffing midnight because you don’t know how to hold your liquor.” Karabast, he’s going to have to set a good example, isn’t he. With once last wistful glance at the mutlicolored and very potent-looking drink in their hand, Zeb slid it down the bar to the person on their other side and grumbled, “Knock yourself out, mate. You! Barkeep! Two waters, now.” Zeb’s gruff edge lingered as he turned back to Sabine. “Now hydration, that’s cool. You want to actually enjoy your drinks? Then pace yourself.”

Oh, for the love of Alderaan. ‘Hydration, that’s cool’ ?  Zeb had never felt so old in their kriffing life. But that’s what Sabine needed right now. Guilt twisted his stomach as they stumbled against him. Hadn’t Zeb’s lousy excuse for a parallel-timeline counterpart bothered to teach her to drink properly? Zeb set a steadying hand on Sabine’s shoulder, even as their last comment provoked a growl. “And for the last time, Kallus is not my boyfriend. ‘Sides, he’s in no state to be looking after anybody right now.”

“I w-would hold my liquor fine! If you would give it back to me!” They yelped as he pawed her reaching hand away. (Heh. Pawed). They shot the bartender a nasty glare and tried standing on her own. Feet felt like lead and head too thin, and the metal of the counter dug into their skin. 

“Zebbbbb, don’t you think I deserve a drink after the shit year I’ve had?! W-why not! Why not get fuck-king shitfaced?” She huffed. This had to be a joke. First all of the-- the shit! The shit with Ezra and Kanan and Mandalore, and-- and it hurt! It hurt and it was scary and it made her hands shake and her chest tight and!  And they just wanted it to mute, just for a moment! Moisture pooled at their eyes as Zeb spoke, as they responded. At his words, her face fell immediately, turning from anger and fear to...to something that ached deeper. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

“Wh-what do you mean he isn’t your boyfriend? Did. Did something happen?”

galaxywon​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Kallus  scanned  the  cluttered  vicinity,  but  found  no  issue  with  it.  He’d  been  in  much  tighter  situations  before,  both  as  an  Imperial  and  as  a  rebel.  Their  ship  seemed  homey,  lived  in,  more  clutter  than  he  had  ever  allowed  in  his  own  but  nothing  to  make  him  uncomfortable.  “  Thank  you.  “  he  nodded  politely,  back  set  straight  as  they  sat  down.  He  had  planned  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible,  melt  into  the  wall  if  he  was  able,  but  Sabine’s  words  cut  through  his  plans  almost  immediately.  He  cleared  his  throat,  careful  not  to  meet  their  eyes  as  reached  for  the  data  padd  in  his  pack.  “  We’ve  spoken,  “  he  started  off,  not  knowing  how  much  he  wanted  to  tell  Sabine,  or  how  much  Zeb  would.  They  were  from  this  time,  knew  that  he  and  Xeb  had  been  much  more  than  roommates.  He  could  speak  freely  about  it  in  these  walls  if  he  wanted  to.  

He  wasn’t  sure  he  could  without  feeling  sick.  “  We  met  at  a  party  a  while  back.  They  hadn’t  been  back  for  too  long.  “  he  explained.  “  I  was…..  Inebriated.  Not  of  my  own  doing,  of  course.  “  He  explained.  She  would  knew  what  he  was  talking  about.  The  talk  of  that  evening  would  go  on  for  quite  a  while  he  assumed.  “  It  didn’t  go  well.  I  didn’t……  I  couldn’t  tell  him.  I’m  not  going  to  change  his  whole  perception  of  reality.  It  would  be  selfish.  “  

.

They listened while lines bloomed on the screen beneath her fingertips. They could feel his mounting anxiety, could tell the subject was a sensitive one. It marked him like a line of sutures, and she wasn’t looking to deepen the cut. Uneasy humor nestled on their tongue at the mention of the fundraiser.

“Oh fuck, that party? Yeah, I think we all had our fair share of embarrassment.”

But, he continued, and emotions settled, like a fine sediment sinking to the bottom of a riverbed. Strokes became longer, less even, as they reflected upon the silence in between words. Measured the pauses that gave depth to the hurt.

“Fuck. I’m. I’m sorry, Alexsandr. I know how much he means to you. But, for what it’s worth,” they spoke, this time meeting his tired gaze. “I don’t think you’re selfish. Love is...it’s weird, and complicated. Sometimes it fucking sucks.” They offered a smile, though one marked with an untraceable sadness. How long had it been since the Mandalorian had been in love? Real, true love? Still, this wasn’t about her.

“Look, maybe you can find your way back to where you were, maybe you can’t, but. But, please, Alex.” they leaned forward even from across the cabin, reaching for him in a way no physical touch could ever convey.  “I’m here for you. Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” Family is more than blood. With that admission, the Mandalorian leaned back and picked up the pace of the stylus between their fingers. This tattoo, it seemed, might be a distraction from them both. Family is more than blood, but what if you were the one holding the knife?

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Kallus  wouldn’t  pull  his  own  weapon  on  them,  just  a  small  blaster,  something  that  he  felt  more  comforted  when  he  had  on  his  hip.  Just  another  Imperial  regulation  that  he  had  never  quite  slipped  out  of.  He  didn’t  carry  on  Lira  San.  But  now  that  he  had  slowly  been  working  outside  of  the  planet,  he  felt  the  need  to.  Especially  now  that  he  had  actively  started  tracking  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn.  But  he  knew  the  Mandalorian  understood  the  need  for  a  weapon.  He  watched  closely,  waiting  for  a  moment  where  Sabine’s  dominant  arm  would  aim  to  fire.  Thankfully,  it  never  happened.  His  shoulders  relaxed  slightly,  though  their  question  had  him  pause.  

His  own  justification  was  that  Zeb  was  worried  about  Sabine  but  trusted  her  too  much  to  actually  do  anything  about  his  worry.  He  didn’t  want  to  admit  that  he  was  worried  too,  worried  about  all  of  the  Spectres.  The  loss  of  Ezra  had  hit  them  all  hard,  just  after  getting  him  back.  “  Like  I  said,  we  were  concerned.  “  he  replied,  stepping  closer  now  that  their  weapon  was  holstered.  “  I  was  in  the  area.  Zeb  was  not.  “  the  area  was  a  very  vague  statement,  vague  enough  that  he  didn’t  have  to  explain  that  he  wasn’t  on  Lira  San  and  that’s  why  it  was  easier  for  him  than  her  fellow  Spectre.  “  I  thought  it  would  assuage  his  worries  if  he  knew  I  saw  you.  “  it  would  lessen  his  own,  certainly.  

Sabine  could,  without  a  doubt,  take  care  of  any  situation  that  arrived.  But  this  wasn’t  something  able  to  be  handled.  It  was  the  death  of  someone  very  close  to  them  all.  It  wasn’t  as  simple  as  planting  a  bomb  or  shooting  a  blaster.  He  wished  it  was.  “  You  should  come  visit.  I  know  Zeb  misses  you.  “  

She stood still, rooted to the spot by the mention of her friend’s name. It was a punch to the gut, an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Sabine had left Zeb (and so many others) in the dark for weeks, months now. They didn’t mean to cause any pain. She just needed time, distance away from everyone. It had always been easier to figure things out alone.

When situations started to tense and sour at home, Sabine had joined the Imperial Academy. When she realized just what they were using her for, they had defected into the Rebellion. Even after the Ghost crew had given them a home, a real family, she had left. And, here she was, running again.

At last they shifted their weight uneasily, heavy with guilt and shame.

“Thank you. I-I should have reached out sooner, I just...” needed to do this on my own, she wanted to say. But instead, they let the words hang in the air, taking up the uneasy space between the two. 

“I’m fine, Kallus. I appreciate you coming out here and all, but really, I’m good.” She stepped forward, stance relaxed now that they knew they were in the presence of a friend, not an enemy. Instead of expressing the emotions gnawing at her inside, they attempted to make light of the conversation.

“What are you and Zeb up to these days, anyways?”

// sabine’s graffiti mix: a little playlist for my favorite mandalorian

(songs listed below)

listen here!

- Sabine’s Theme ~ Star Wars Lofi // SuperDope

- space girl // Frances Forever

- Bad Reputation // Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

- Weird Girl // Mommy Long Legs

- Pray For Me (ft. Kendrick Lamar) // The Weeknd, Kendrick Lamar

- R.I.P. 2 My Youth // The Neighbourhood

- Cherry Bomb // The Runaways

- What’s Up Danger // Blackway, Black Caviar

- Celebrity Skin // Hole

- Gender Binary (Fuck You) // Ryan Cassata

- Chaotic Gender Neutral // Murder Person for Hire

- Rebel Girl // Bikini Kill

- Homemade Dynamite // Lorde

- Empires on Fire // BANNERS

- Smells Like Teen Spirit // Nirvana

- Seven Nation Army // The White Stripes

- Am I A Girl? // Poppy

- Cigarette Ahegao // Penelope Scott

- Hayloft // Mother Mother

- I Was a Teenage Anarchist // Against Me!

- bury a friend // Billie Eilish

- Home // Vance Staples, Richie Kohan

- Dear Fellow Traveller // Sea Wolf

- Andromeda // Weyes Blood

- i need to be alone. // girl in red

- After the War // Reinaeiry

- The Mandalorian // The Hyphenate

- Rebels Theme // Kevin Kiner

- Sabine Wren // AtinPiano

galaxywon​ // Hera Syndulla

Where  are  they  ??  Hera’s  heart  is  racing,  the  adrenaline  pumping  through  their  veins.  It’s  the  only  way  she’s  ignoring  the  pain  all  over  her  body,  the  fresh  burns  that  had  been  from  the  explosions  just  minutes  after  midnight.  Lekku  damaged,  tattoos  previously  there  now  scattered  with  marred  skin.  Had  it  been  minutes  ??  she  can’t  tell,  can’t  think  straight.  A  flash  of  purple  fabric  has  them  looking  closer,  voice  horse,  “  Sabine  ?!  “  Were  the  others  with  them?  

.

The voice rang clear and familiar even through the erupted chaos around them. They’d heard that voice in firefights and stealth operations alike, from late night confessions to hurried commands of battle. It sent a renewed wave of strength through her bones, pushed her forward, past the bodies and rubble. 

“Buir! Thank fuck you’re alive!” A pause, measuring the damage done to Hera’s lekku, no doubt a result of the flames. “Have you seen anyone else?” The question was vague, but she knew they’d understand. Both needed to know if their family was alive.

“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.“

Fingers itched to grasp the vibroblade at her waist, but paused. Of all of their interactions, this was the closest Sabine had come to an actual threat of violence. To hatred-- pure and unadulterated.

“Trust, Armitage, that when you join the silence of my ancestors, no one will mourn you, let alone notice your departure. Despite all your efforts to be remembered, no one will feel joy or pain or heartbreak, because no one will have cared enough about your life to waste the energy.”

Anger read cleanly across their face, cool and unwavering. Motionless.

“At least I have a family, even if they are ghosts. Can you really say the same?”

@generally-scheming

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

If nothing else, Hux had to credit the photographer for so clearly capturing a moment he did not remember himself. The walk from the gala to Alton’s yacht was extremely fuzzy, but he’d hoped that — even inebriated — he’d had the decorum to keep his kriffing hands to himself until they were out of sight. Yet that was unmistakably Armitage Hux in the image, pulling a man into a yacht by his necktie. And that man was unmistakably Alton Kastle with his hand on Hux’s ass.

Hux knew better than to reach for the datapad. That didn’t stop his fingers from twitching when they stowed it out of sight.   (She’d won this round.)   No one who saw that image would have any doubt of what happened on Alton’s yacht afterwards. He narrowed his eyes. Their gown wasn’t so sheer that he could count out hidden armor or weapons. With a gaze every bit as sharp as the dagger up his sleeve, his eyes traced the skin above their neckline for vulnerable arteries. But that was only fantasy — he was not so keen to die today that he would take on a Mandalorian in hand-to-hand combat without backup. Especially not after he’d read Sabine Wren’s file.

“Yet you brought your concerns to me first. How courteous.”  Hux knew as well as she did — she was ex-Imperial — that countless cutthroat officers would love to get their hands on any ammunition that could be used against him. Not to mention that connecting a New Republic reporter to a man who’d tortured Padme Amidala would kill Alton’s career.  “What is it you want from me that you could not get from them?”

_

His eyes turned upon the image, and they smirked at his shift in tone. Like a glacier breaking into the ocean, he grew ever colder with the passing seconds. No doubt he wanted to react with some measure of calculated anger or violence, but he kept his composure all the same. The Mandalorian had to admit, given the brevity of the situation, that it was almost impressive.

“Hey, I’m a nice person, Hux. You ought to know this by now.”

They sipped the wine he’d ordered, looking at him over the rim of the glass the whole time. She took a breath before responding, took the conversation on their own time.

“I want you to owe me a favor.” They exaggerated the words, left them with weight unseen. “I won’t come calling today, or tomorrow, but I will come calling. And when I do, I just want to know that you’re willing to help. Nothing difficult, nothing incriminating. Just good old-fashioned reciprocity, one friend to another.”

Sabine folded their hands together in the space between them, leaning forward and never wavering from his steely gaze.

“What do you say, general?”