ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴼˡᵈᵗᵒʷᶰ

Currently Inactive. Independent Satin from asoiaf. 21+ мσвιƖє ηανιgαтιση

[satincrow]

“And now his watch is ended…”

For now at least. 

I don’t even know how to express how much writing this character has meant to me over the years. If I had more time, I would have gone on writing him forever. I did once joke that I hoped I would be still writing Satin at 90. And who knows? Maybe when I’m 90, I will be. Perhaps then I will finally have conquered my own life and will have more time for all the things I love. For now, you will still be able to find me at @nancy-birch​ and @saltxwolf​.

I want to thank all of my writing partners who I wrote with on this blog! All of you were so incredible! But I want to specifically thank those who have written with me since the beginning: @ladyoftheneck​, @armandlucienduval​, @muses-searching-for-peace​, @r-e-i-d​, @itswasteland​, @gclden​, @wxldchxld​ @chevalier-de-la-fleurs​, @needlcd​, @longmayshereignxcersei​, @severityforgreatness​ and @zcldrizes​. I am so impressed by all of you- your creativity and talent and also so grateful you took a chance on me!

And of course,

@fistofhnsw​ Your magnificent and illuminating Theon Greyjoy got me into RP in the first place. Without you, this blog would not exist- and neither would any of my any RP blogs or my confidence to try to write anything. I seriously can’t thank you enough for your guidance, encouragement, and of course, your friendship. 

@killthebxy ( @tocxmply​ ) Fil… FIL THE BOY! Your understanding and portrayal of Jon is INSPIRING and the time I have spent RPing Jon/Satin with you was the happiest I’ve ever been writing. Thank you for all your headcanons and metas! Thank you for being such a positive force in the RP community and keeping us all under your cloak of protection. Thank you so much for taking a chance on me. And for being my (and Satin’s) “Light that brings the dawn.” ❄️ 💔

( gif by @killthebxy ​)

[killthebxy]

let’s pretend i’m not horribly late for this, as i have been for everything within the past two months because work and university are eating me alive. you see, this is exactly why i need a steward. and honestly i couldn’t have found a better one, much as i have found such a beautiful, talented, amazing, wonderful friend. you take care, my dear Elsie, and keep being the lovely human being you are, and here’s to us meeting again soon because i have no doubt it’s gonna happen! thank you for everything and for being such a blessing of the old gods ❤︎❤︎❤︎

[satincrow]

Love you sweet friend! Keep in touch! And hopefully I’ll be back here one day!

[satincrow]

“And now his watch is ended...”

For now at least. 

I don’t even know how to express how much writing this character has meant to me over the years. If I had more time, I would have gone on writing him forever. I did once joke that I hoped I would be still writing Satin at 90. And who knows? Maybe when I’m 90, I will be. Perhaps then I will finally have conquered my own life and will have more time for all the things I love. For now, you will still be able to find me at @nancy-birch​ and @saltxwolf​.

I want to thank all of my writing partners who I wrote with on this blog! All of you were so incredible! But I want to specifically thank those who have written with me since the beginning: @ladyoftheneck​, @armandlucienduval​, @muses-searching-for-peace​, @r-e-i-d​, @itswasteland​, @gclden​, @wxldchxld​ @chevalier-de-la-fleurs​, @needlcd​, @longmayshereignxcersei​, @severityforgreatness​ and @zcldrizes​. I am so impressed by all of you- your creativity and talent and also so grateful you took a chance on me!

And of course,

@fistofhnsw​ Your magnificent and illuminating Theon Greyjoy got me into RP in the first place. Without you, this blog would not exist- and neither would any of my any RP blogs or my confidence to try to write anything. I seriously can’t thank you enough for your guidance, encouragement, and of course, your friendship. 

@killthebxy ( @tocxmply​ ) Fil... FIL THE BOY! Your understanding and portrayal of Jon is INSPIRING and the time I have spent RPing Jon/Satin with you was the happiest I’ve ever been writing. Thank you for all your headcanons and metas! Thank you for being such a positive force in the RP community and keeping us all under your cloak of protection. Thank you so much for taking a chance on me. And for being my (and Satin’s) “Light that brings the dawn.” ❄️ 💔

( gif by @killthebxy ​)

[satincrow]

Hiatus

Hey everyone! I’m sorry to say that I’m having too much trouble keeping up with Satin because of everything going on and I am going to put this blog on an indefinite hiatus for now. I’ll be back eventually! Will still be trying to keep active on @nancy-birch and @saltxwolf and I’m only writing with one person (for now) on @ashayara. I hope everyone is safe and healthy. Please reach out on my other blogs if you need anything! 💜

[boredpanda]

[severityforgreatness-ar-deactiv]

+  @satincrow​ : “ you’ve got blood on your shirt. ”

A squeak leaves her lips in surprise. Blinking at his sudden words she looks down to see in fact, blood on her shirt. “I wonder how that got there.” She grabs a towel from the kitchen and runs it under some water before scrubbing the spot on her shirt. Avoiding any questions that may be lingering in Satin’s head. 

“I’ll need to change before we head out. Probably should go shopping too!” Luckily for Margaery, Satin had his connections to get into the latest dance club - so waiting in line wouldn’t be a problem for her, making them have more time to shop for cuter clothes.

[satincrow]

They were going to Three Blind Dragons for the night. Satin had been looking forward to it all day. He still had connections to get them in, having sung there regularly with Sunset back in their post vaudeville days. He was just about to ask Margie if she liked his new neck scarf when he noticed the blood on her dress.

She acted like it was nothing. Of course she acting like it was nothing. But alarm bells were going off in Satin’s brain as he closed the distance between them.

“Margie... you can talk to me you know. I know you are technically my boss... My benefactor really,” he said with a grateful little smirk. “But I have truly come to think of you as a sister. If anything is wrong. You can trust me with it.”

[severityforgreatness-ar-deactiv]

+ @satincrow​ : “ we should get a pet. ” 

“How about we focus on keeping our magnolias alive first? If she can bloom by this summer, than we’ll get you a pet.. perhaps a goldfish.” As if Margaery is talking to a child. She couldn’t see Satin having enough time to take care of anything, not that he couldn’t but she didn’t want to end up being the one taking care of his things. 

[satincrow]

He looked up at her from where he was kneeling arranging Rose bouquets for one of their client’s wedding.

“Surely you are not insinuating that I can’t handle a pet more challenging than a goldfish...” he scoffed. “Jon has a dog you know.” ( Though “dog” was a rather kind word for Jon’s gigantic beast. ) “Ghost is quite taken with me. I think I’d be as good with animals as I am with arranging flowers... Which I am excellent at, by the way,” he grumbled. He knew he should just let the matter lie for a bit but he continued.

“It would be nice to have an animal- we could bring him in the shop too. Not one like Ghost, of course, but it’s different with coppers’ dogs. We could get a more delicate, small pet. Like a french poodle. Or a cat! It is very chic. And it brings in business. look at the Algonquin. Their pet cat is as famous as the hotel! He just wandered in off the street one day and he’s stayed there ever since, charming the customers...”

Satin gave her a winning smile, knowing that the story of how he became a fixture in Margie’s flower shop bore a striking similarity to the story of the alley cat who wandered into a high end hotel in Times Square.

[cat-tully]

[watcherswall-moved]

“I shall live and die at my post.”

[chaoticreation]

© @chaoticreation 2020

It’s my boy, Armand again, because I love him. There’s an uncropped version, but I’m not sure how to go about that here. I could save it for patreon, but as a disabled artist, I have to worry if I’ll lose what little I get from the gov’t if I have one. Until I figure that out, you can show your support by reblogging this SFW version.

Commissions are open.

[satincrow]

❛   I represent to you 

       all the sins 

                        you never had the courage to commit  ❜

                                                                                  ~Oscar Wilde

Independent Satin from GRRM’S A Song of Ice and Fire Graphic Credit by @killthebxy

[satincrow]

icekraken‌:

The gratitude did nothing to warm his heart, if anything, it made him feel far worse. He stopped just outside the door to the quarters he had claimed as his own, what once felt a fine victory to have the Lord’s room as his own, now feeling as a weight on his very soul. “Satin.” He tested the name, finding it rang with the softness that did not belong at Castle Black. How he’d ended up there was a mystery, but it was no surprise he’d sought an escape. A pretty face like that, with those doe-like eyes, hardly belonged in such a place.

Good? Would a good man have allowed the murder of two boys? Would a good man have killed Rodrik Cassel for merely exhibiting the anger that was rightfully placed? Not at all.

“I’m not a good man.” He said quietly. “Best you figure that out now.” His guilt weighed on him, exhausted him, but it was too late to turn back. He’d burned his bridges with the Starks, all he had left now were the Greyjoys, and he wasn’t even certain they would ever fully accept him. 

Theon walked briskly into the bedroom, pushing the door shut as Satin followed, as if to somehow protect them both from the monstrosities outside. “Winterfell has been taken in Balon Greyjoy’s name, I’m to hold it.” For now. There had been no word from his father since, no clue of the approval that Theon was desperately seeking. “No one beyond this room will likely be friendly to you.” With horrified and enraged northerners, and violent Ironborn, this was not a good place for traitors–something that could be said for both of them.

“I’m Theon Greyjoy.” He could not even gloat with his new titles, and he had been so known for being one to proudly brag in the past. “Food, water, and wine on the table there. Take time to recover, somehow I doubt the present calm will last.” He sat heavily in the chair by the fire as he said it, one hand running through his hair as he heaved a sigh and tried to focus on what step to take next. No work from his father meant no guidance, and here he was alone trying to reign in the chaos he’d unleashed. 

“For what reason were you sent to the wall?” He asked, leveling his eyes with the flickering flames before him. “And what sent you on such a high risk escape?”

There was NO QUESTION that Satin believed his new Lord was a good man. He had just spared his life! Yet he didn’t argue. If he wanted to think badly of himself, he wouldn’t stop him. After all, a Lord who was a bit humble was easier to deal with than the opposite. There was nothing more dangerous than a master who thinks himself too good.

“Well that’s a relief,” he said, the beginnings of a mischievous smile gracing his lips. “I’ve been hurt the most by men who thought themselves honorable and good. So I prefer the bad men I suppose.”

He sat down gratefully before the food and wine. “Thank you, my Lord,” he said, already trying to adopt the highborn speech he assumed a squire would possess, and not run his words together as much. He tried to eat delicately as well, though he was ravenous and soon his growling stomach got the best of him. He sighed in pleasure as he filled his mouth with warm bread. But his pleasure was short lived as Lord Greyjoy began to ask how he had ended up at the wall. 

“Oh that. Well, it turns out I was a better brothel boy than I was a thief” he said trying to make light of it, but under Lord Greyjoy’s gaze his throat tightened and he knew he had to give more of an explanation than that. “I was born in a brothel in Oldtown. The Silk Rose. My mother was one of the girls there and when I came of age, I worked there too. But I got it into my head that life held more for me so I left.” He cringed at having to hear his own naive explanation. “I made it as far as Gullstown before I was arrested for stealing from one of my clients. While I was in the dungeons a man came round, asking for recruits to the Night’s Watch. It was either that or risk losing a hand. So, I volunteered.”  Another mistake... suddenly he realized he was trembling again, his fingers worrying at the bruises on his face that were beginning to heal. 

“As for why I left. It’s an ugly story my lord... you won’t want to hear it...” he said before trailing off. “I should never have left Oldtown,” he whispered more to himself than Lord Greyjoy. “At least there, I was paid for my trouble. But at the Wall... they... they never even ask.” He fell silent at that, his charms failing him.

[characterdevelopmentasks]

Hi!

Some of you have already been in the first round–but to make it brief:  this account is a semi-automated question generator that asks random blogs random questions about their muses!

The point is:  reblog this post to get yourself added onto the list, to show me that you’re ok with receiving questions, and to get even more people aware of the process.  I’ll still seek out blogs on my own, but you can do this to expedite the process!

Multimuses, in the tags, you can list the muses you want questions directed to in the following format:  (muse1-muse2-muse3) and so on and so forth.  If not, it just won’t be directed to anyone!

Thanks and happy developing!

(In which I realize you can’t put commas in tags.)

[satincrow]

icekraken‌:

His hands had been so coated with blood already. Still the screams echoed in the back of his mind as he went on pretending, all the while screaming himself. Kraken or wolf? It had been a long imposing question, and his heart had ripped at the moment he had been forced to choose. Robb would never forgive him, by the Drowned God he could never forgive himself, and yet he was still here, holding the home he had secretly come to love over the years.

But this was not his home, and he was not a Stark–no matter how much he wished it.

Theon was tired already, what goodness left in him feeling cold and numb, and still these voices gnawed at him to do more, to make himself known as a Greyjoy rather than a Stark pet, and for it to be forever remembered. The blood still soaked into the ground, the looks of horror and disgust thrown his way….this was not how he wanted to be remembered. In his heart, he knew it was wrong, all of it, but he’d been lashed with cruel words for years and had been so desperate to belong.

A call to punish a captive that had broken their oath, and Theon allowed his thoughts to drift to Jon, dread burning in his gut that he might have to turn his sword, truly, on one of the Stark children he’d grown up with. Bastard or not, Jon had been a brother to him, even if Theon had not treated him as such more often than not, but upon seeing the young man forced to the ground on his knees, Theon was allowed a small sliver of relief.

It didn’t last, for once again he was being pressed to swing his sword, and he was certain he lacked the strength to do it.

Grey-blue eyes met those of the captive, and he knew had Eddard been here, or Robb, there would be no pity extended. The law was the law, and as the new Lord of Winterfell (something that sickened him now) he should bring down judgment. 

If I could run…I would.

He dared not say it, but it was there in his gaze and his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. No, he couldn’t do it. Perhaps this was weakness, but it would make him far weaker to finally crack in the presence of his men. 

“The laws of the North are not mine to withhold.” He said sternly, finding some sort of strength to harshen his voice. “But given no one is allowed to leave Winterfell, you will serve as my squire until I decide further what to do with you.” His men seemed content with that at least, sneering as they shoved the man forward, and Theon turned, heading back inside so that he might find a moment of peace in this chaos. 

Only once they had entered the keep’s warm halls did he speak, his voice far softer than before. “What is your name?”

Satin didn’t flinch as the Lord’s eyes focused in on him. Instead he opened his dark ones even larger to take them in. They were blue grey, the color of the sunset sea and just as troubled. He scarcely dared to breathe as he awaited his answer and when the answer came he felt himself crumble. If he had not already been kneeling he would have fallen to his knees. But since he was already there, he rose shakily, his heart pounding. 

“Thank you, thank you m’lord,” he said, wringing his hands together for some inexplicable reason. It was as if his body were slower to catch up with what had just happened. He had been saved. He just wanted to be away from everyone’s sight for a moment. To crumple into a corner and sob for joy, for grief, for everything he had been bottling up inside since he had taken it into his head to leave Oldtown.

Before he knew it, he was following the Ironborn Lord into the keep’s warm hall. The first thing that struck his senses was that it was warm. He almost broke into tears right then at that grateful realization. It had been so long since he had experienced warmth. True warmth didn’t seem to exist this far north- and certainly not in any corner of Castle Black that he could find. He wondered at how wealthy the Lords who kept this castle must have been to keep the fortress so warm this far north.

The Lord’s voice managed to reach him through his reverie. His voice was warm too. Warm and gentle and it seemed to make everything in his chest go soft.

“Satin. I’m from Oldtown,” he said. Now, as when he had first come to Castle Black, he had been presented with the opportunity to change his name into something that sounded less like that of a brothel boy. But again, he was too proud ( or too stupid ) to change the name his poor mother had thought so fine...  He didn’t know it it was the sudden thought of his mother or the sudden, unexpected gift of life, but tears laced his voice as he thanked the lord again.

“You are so good. You are a good man, m’lord.”

[satincrow]

(  Discussed starter for @icekraken​    )

Satin clasped his hands together as he was shoved roughly forward. So this was it? After everything he’d survived- the dungeons in Gulltown, the harrowing trip to the north in chains, and then the living death that was Castle Black. The unwanted hands upon him in the nights, the beatings... to escape all of that, only to be thrust before this Lord who looked to be no older than himself and to lose his life at the icy edge of a northern blade. 

No, No... Satin’s whole body shook with the denial as he frantically sought some way to stop what was about to happen to him. He had been through too much, far too much to give up now without a fight. His knees crashed to the ground as he desperately sought the man’s eyes in front of him. Eye contact... Ayana had always taught him the crucial importance of that. Make them see you as a person, not an object and they will be less likely to hurt you. 

The man who stood before him was imposing but he looked to be around his own age. As Satin’s eyes flickered over his clothing he realized that he was not a northerner, but Ironborn. He had had a few Ironborn at The Silk Rose. The Ironborn were fierce but not as cruel in bed as their reputation would have one believe. Not nearly so cruel as the northerners turned out to be... Perhaps this one could be reasoned with.

“Please, M’lord, you don’t have to do this,” he stammered, “We are both strangers here in the North. But their laws need not apply to you. I know... I did wrong to run but... I had cause. Please...”

[satincrow]

I am so sorry for the delay everyone! I hope everyone has been staying safe and healthy. I will be working on my replies very soon. Thanks for your patience!

[faramircaptainofgondor]

{ make me choose } onvavoirs asked → the old gods or the seven

[satincrow]

reekcd‌:

@satincrow​ liked for a short starter!

         “I… wasn’t always… like this.” 

Satin watched him from under the warm furs of the small bed. The dance of flames in the hearth lighted Theon’s face, revealing it to be one that was still young and handsome, in spite of the regret and shame that seemed to be permanently etched there.

“What you are is nothing but kind and honorable,” he said gently. He lifted himself and put his hand out welcoming Theon to join him in the bed if he wanted to.. Satin had felt so lucky to be sharing a room with Theon- packed as they all were in the castle of Winterfell, here to fight for their lives as soon as the army of THE DEAD deigned to show up. He had struck up a hesitant friendship with the man that had slowly grown into something more as they practiced in the training yard, and broke their bread together. Until Satin had ruined everything with his cruel judgment after learning what had happened when Theon held Winterfell.

“I was unfair to you before- when you told me of... of those boys. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. I was a beast to say that. It’s just...” Satin drew the furs closer around him and his hands balled into fists, “well I was always a lowborn boy myself... and all of my life highborn men have used me for their purposes... and if my death would have helped any of them...” He shook his head. “I suppose I compared you to them. But what I said to you, knowing what you endured, was... it’s not true.” The tears threatened. “You have been nothing but good to me even now when you should despise me. Because no one deserves what happened to you, no matter what they did.”