#withguilt

[fatescattered]

🐆

random multi-muse pairings | @withguilt | accepting

sophie baek & anton vasilev or george dawson. disclaimer: i watched half a season of bridgerton and didn't read the books BUT sophie seems really interesting from my general knowledge! i could see anton being a bachelor or even a servant (he's a soldier in his canon verse, so i can work something around that), and george is a runaway thief, so i feel like either of those could make for interesting dynamics!

scott mccall & bianca baker. in her modern verse, bianca is a detective always sticking her nose where she's not supposed to, so she could either suspect scott of being a werewolf (or being totally off the mark) OR maybe scott asking for her help investigating something??

frank castle & lucy hayes. i am in the process of watching daredevil and the companion shows (the punisher is next on the list!) so my frank knowledge is only partial. but lucy is a nurse, so maybe she could patch frank up if he shows up at the hospital or if she comes across him and decides to help?

kristi miller & vivian drake. kristi my beloved!!! vivian could end up in fromville since she moves around a lot. she's a thief and would definitely keep that a secret, but she does have a heart of gold, so she would defs try to help kristi in what she can!

anthony bridgerton & anastasia tremaine. in canon, anastasia rises up as queen through lying and scheming, so she could be hiding that she comes from a poor family while trying to marry rich, OR i can keep her poor background and she wouldn't be in the running at all, but they end up meeting by chance?

ekko & caitlyn kiramman. cait is a test muse atm but i had to include her for a chance to write with your arcane muses! honestly these two should've interacted more in the show, so we have to right that wrong. could be something set in canon or an au!

vi & lydia stark. i have an arcane au for lydia where she works under heimerdinger, so we could try to come up with a way for them to meet? either lydia going to the undercity if it's something related to her work orrr them crossing paths when vi's in piltover? (also the generator didn't give us caitvi, but that's on the table too always)

[ofprevioustimes]

@withguilt sent: [ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in / jaime @ cersei

In her dreams, they were one being. Two pieces of the same creature, forming a perfect combination of Tywin and Joanna. There they lived without restraint, indivisible from each other – and no one dared to dismiss her on account of her girlhood when she was one with Jaime. Her dreams were always sweetest when she slept beside him. Cersei had been moody and easily irritable since Father had resigned as Hand of the King and brought her back to Casterly Rock. All the planning to get Jaime appointed to the Kingsguard, only for them to be separated again! She’d already dismissed about her tenth bedmaid by the time he came to visit, just in time to ensure that her chambers would be empty when he arrived, with no one to witness her sneaking out or in.  

The sky displayed its first hints of sunlight by the time she’d dozed off. Next to him, she lost all fear. Cersei forgot to care about getting caught: she hadn’t woken until he was setting her down in her own bed, and she grunted upon recognizing her rooms. “No”, she complained, reaching out to grab his tunic. “I meant to stay there with you…”

[desafia]

@withguilt vi sent: my favorite color changes but it’s always the same,  whatever color you’re wearing. 

color. such a simple thing, a part of the world taken for granted by those unaccustomed to the sort of captivity they have known. her cell at the facility had been soul-sucking drab shades of grey and white. no matter how many paintings she did she could never quite make up for the cement and overbearing presence of cold metal and and even colder souls. but there is color now, all around her. and its all the more brighter and practically luminescent from the warmth this woman's presence provides. nourishment to a starving heart.

she smiles.

magnolia peers down at the sweater of lavender. then to her trousers which have had holes patched with various strips of fabric. some have embroidered flowers, another a poorly cross-stitched image of a cat she managed to sew herself. a few are devoid of anything other than faded yellows and purples. she smiles wider and returns her gaze to her companion's.

❝ w...what if... ❞ she begins with a mischievous glint in her sage hued eyes. ❝ wear...real. really ugly color? ❞

[amongthevipers]

the khaleesi was kat's guest. while her mother certainly wasn't thrilled about it, kat had made it very clear that she wanted orri to stay at least as long as she could. tommen had supported kat's plea and it was his help that had caused cersei to acquiesce. she might be able to say no to kat usual outlandish demands, but not to tommen's kingly decisions. kat ensured orri was treated with the respect owed to her to the best of her ability.

they sat together at the tourney celebrating kat's name day. there had been a long somber speech dedicated to joffrey who would have surely had much more fanfare had he been alive to share the day with kat. he also would have had opinions about kat's choice of friends. some ache for her twin did linger, but she was more than happy to share the events with orri instead. as the knights rode into the arena, kat put her hand on orri's wrist, excitement in her voice as she spoke, "you have to tell me whether you have this where you come from."

STARTER CALL | starter for @withguilt / khaleesi orri *

[wickedpeachie]

@withguilt Said: "My life is my own to ruin" From Zuko

The night air is thick with the scent of burning cedar, lanterns swaying gently in the warm breeze, casting golden ribbons of light across Zuko’s face. The sharp angles of his jaw, the quiet storm in his eyes—he is no longer the boy she once knew, but something steadier, something hardened by duty and sacrifice. And yet, in this moment, he is unraveling before her. 

Was that why he snuck out from the party too? A celebration, one year after the end of the war.

As if they aren't still healing from it.

Katara steps closer, the silk of her robes whispering against the stone beneath her feet. "That isn’t true." Her voice is softer now, but no less firm, no less certain. She reaches for him, fingertips brushing his wrist, as if she can anchor him, as if she can pull him back from the edge he seems so willing to walk. "Your life doesn’t belong to ruin, Zuko. It belongs to the people who believe in you. To the ones who stood beside you through fire and war.”

The last year had been filled with trouble, on all fronts. Ending the war was just one step, it was everything else that seemed— difficult.  He had always carried his burdens alone, but after everything, after all they had been through together—why? Why hadn’t he reached out? Why had he let himself carry this weight in silence?

She had waited. Had wondered, in those quiet moments between healing sessions and council meetings, why there had been no letters, no messages sent by hawk. Aang visited, of course, but even he said little of how Zuko was really doing. And Sokka, for all his jokes and exasperation, had worried too. They all had.

But Zuko had faced the chaos of a fractured nation alone.

Had he thought they wouldn’t come?  Or had he simply not wanted them to? Had he thought this was his battle to fight alone, his punishment to bear? Katara released his wrist, her hands falling back to her side

"You aren't alone anymore."

[preytale]

moved to @withguilt

[wcrriorhearts]

@withguilt said: the path to redemption is paved with trials and tribulations. / aegon @ helaena

It was rare that Aegon and her were alone in close proximity to each other and Helaena never knew how to behave in his presence. Years of being ridiculed or ignored by him during their childhood together had not set them up to have a healthy relationship as adults, least of all because they had been wedded so young. Even after years, she still struggled to think of him as her husband sometimes and not her older brother. These lines had blurred when they had exchanged wedding vows and yet never vanished entirely.

Blinking, she was not sure what to respond to his words. It was rare he said anything as profound as this and though she wanted to retort with something equally deep, words were not her strength. "What are you seeking redemption from?" She could think of a few things, but doubted Aegon was aware enough of his own shortcomings as a husband, father and person to even see them. Nonetheless, something had apparently evoked thought in him and Helaena was not here to douse that feeble flame that was flickering inside of him. "It doesn't have to be, though. Sometimes redemption can be found in the love and understanding of others. Making amends doesn't have to be hard."

[strnza]

for  a  moment,  she  is  able  to  detach  herself  from  the  reality  of  the  scenario  at  hand  -  the  blood,  the  death,  the  overwhelming  feelings  of  both  guilt  and  detachment  in  equal  measure  -  to  play  into  elijah's  theatrics.  eliza  smiles,  half  laughter  and  half  an  awe-stricken  gasp  escaping  her  as  she  marvels  at  her  company’s  rare  vulgarity.

eliza  is  sheepish,  then,  as  she  sinks  into  the  less  savory  of  her  reactionary  emotions  -  beginning  to  thaw  the  high  of  satiated  hunger.  the  younger  vampire  has  to  wonder  whether  or  not  she  will  ever  reach  a  middle  ground  to  find  respite  within;  the  constant  reeling  between  highs  and  lows  in  heightened  feeling  is  exhausting.

it's  a  rollercoaster  of  an  adjustment  period;  for  all  intents  and  purposes,  elijah  is  the  one  shred  of  understanding  in  this  newfound  life  (death?)  that  she  clings  to  -  oh,  how  she  clings  to  him.  a  transformation  robbed  of  her  own  autonomy,  an  absent  maker  and  all  that  she  now  has  to  learn:  she  doesn't  want  to  push  him  away.  he's  all  that  she's  got  left.  (he'll  have  a  hard  time  prying  her  nails  from  the  confines  of  his  undead  skin.)    "i'm  sorry,"    eliza  whines,  defeated  as  she  finds  herself  now  unable  to  recoup  the  mess  she's  made,    "i'm  sorry  –"    she  reiterates,  massaging  her  temples  with  bloodied  fingertips  as  she  stands  to  bridge  the  gap  between  them,  "–  i  didn't  mean  t'make  a  mess,  i  just  ...  can't  exactly�� be  bleedin'  assholes  to  death  in  the  street."    (she  has  more  eyes  on  her  than  most.)  and  this  asshole  deserved  it.

sometimes he must wonder if having the patience of a saint has really done him any good in life.  surely – he has avoided many catastrophic moments, always assessed the situations and thought leagues ahead of his current situation. but finding himself in the position of watching out for a young vampire once more was something he found was trying his patience. he has dealt with many like her before, has exercised the time required for a new vampire to accept and take steps in their new role without intervening so often. and yet here he is, intervening once more.

blood on the cuff of his sleeve. brows furrow as a manicured nail scratches over the surface of the stained fabric. she has made a mess of him with her messes, it would seem. (and oh does he loathe the eyesore. he's meant to be pristine, cleancut. her faults have soiled him.)

❝ do mind my language for a moment here, but you have heard the saying ‘you shouldn’t shit where you eat' – i'm assuming? ❞ oh, how ill of him. seldom one to use poor language, and yet … she has soiled him. and he is left with a body todispose of and a room to clean. (but will he ever be clean again?)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ@strnza : starter call.

[guiltedwith]

ㅤㅤsideblog to @withguilt / just an organization zone.

[ofprevioustimes]

@withguilt sent: [ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too / drogo @ dany training together maybe :')

The arakh moved with grace and ease in his hands. Wide-eyed, Daenerys watched in fascination as the blade danced and cut through the air, the steel gleaming with sun rays. He was still impressive as the day they’d met. Not an ounce of Drogo’s majestic figure suggested that he was a man in recuperation: the fire seemed to have ignited the vigor back into his bones, his flesh – just like it did to her. They were hungry and thirsty, but strong. The same could not be said of what had remained of his khalasar, however: mile after mile they weakened and perished, and each life she could not save ate away at another piece of her.

Determined, her fingers tightened around the golden hilt of the arakh Cohollo had given them as a wedding gift. Alas, Dany lacked all of her khal’s grace with the weapon. It took her two hands to lift it, and when she tried to mimic his gesture she could not bring it half as high as he did, but her resolve remained unshaken. She looked at the endless wasteland ahead of them, then at her three little hatchlings with their curious, childlike eyes. Then she swung the blade again, and again, and again. The sun had reached its peak and begun to set: her arms throbbed with ache, her back was sore all over from the effort. Sweat covered her skin from head to toe. 

She still had not mastered the weapon in the way that he did by the end of the practice, but it didn’t matter. All the hurt accumulated into her body from the efforts had made her feel fierce. It gave her strength to push forward, when the world told her to cave.

“My sun-and-stars”, she dropped the blade on the ground and stepped towards him, pressing her palm to the scar on his chest. “Night comes. It’s time we march forward…”

[d011zk1ll]

Aidlyn.ansgt fic happy or sad ending help

[banishmark]

zuko is being moved to @preytale @withguilt

[wickedpeachie]

@withguilt

If he seeks to ignite a fire within her, he has done the job well. Despite the bite that lingers on the edge of her tongue, Tauriel is well aware of the boundaries that have been placed. The prisoners, meant to be searched and detained. If she was wise, she would seek a way to remove herself from his presence and escape. Yet, she remains rooted in the spot. A disobedient air engulfing her.

“Or nothing—” She halts her speech, eyes narrowing at the dig, and it seethes deep into the pit of her stomach. He had managed to fluster her into speaking.

Willing herself to move, Tauirel takes a step forward as her arms lace behind her. Tauriel wants to break away from his gaze, letting her own wander the room with great interest. "You, by far are the most vexing" She adds, giving him another side way glance. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

[amongthevipers]

when the woman with the face paint approached the throne, kat was worried someone was going to send her away before they got to know what she wanted. tommen wouldn't, but someone was always fearing for him. the gaurds were itching for a reason to escort her out, but kat, kat was itching for a reason to leave with her. the moment the woman pointed at her, she half expected for her to start spitting curses. it took them all all moment to realize she was pointing at her dress, and what she had dropped were coins, not something more frightening. "you want my dress?" kat asked, brow furrowing. this was not something that had ever happened at one of these opportunities when people were able to petition the court. "if i may be so bold, who are you? where have you come from?" she knew she couldn't be from this side of the sea.

people in this world across the sea generally look at her oddly. they know she is different; not of westeros. if it's not the way her common tongue is lacking (she is trying to learn), or the fact that her features don't resemble all others here, then it's certainly the fact that she's yet to given up the paint worn as a mask streaked across her face. she looks so out of place standing in the hall of the keep. people have been lined up all day, sharing their grievances and needs with the one who sits the throne. she's been in king's landing all but a few weeks and has picked up on just enough to keep her going. but she hadn't known there's a time and place for everything. and tossing a bag of coin to the ground at the bottom steps of a throne and pointing at a princess was ill appropriate of her, when she finally speaks, ❝ dress. i want. ❞ only running on a few outfits in constant rotation and she really wanted a dress like the princess wore.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ@amongthevipers

[wcrriorhearts]

@withguilt said: I should've known it was a matter of time. / harwin @ lysandra

Her gaze drifted up to her brother and, once again, she sincerely questioned why he had to be so tall. No person needed to be such a mountain of a man in her humble opinion and it was not pleasant to crane her neck just to look up properly. Naturally, she didn't for one second think that perhaps that she was just small.

"Yes, perhaps", she said nonchalantly and shrugged her shoulders, very unimpressed by the whole situation. As they spoke, she was caked in mud from head to toe. There was a bloody gash across her cheek and she was fairly certain that she could feel a black eye blossoming as well, given the throbbing in her face. Did she have any regrets? No.

"As a matter of fact, anyone should have seen it coming. They're uncultured, poorly mannered swines and they needed a good beating. Well, Aegon did, to say the truth. Aemond just tries to keep up with his older brother and is usually the preferred victim. Nonetheless, I've had it with their arrogance." Aegon had continuously made fun of all the other boys and started a fight with Jace that day, which soon escalated in all of the children fighting during the training of the boys. Lyssa often lingered on the side to watch and had just decided to involve herself.

"But don't worry. He will not tell his mother that he was beaten up by a girl. His arrogance and misplaced pride prevent that from happening." It was perhaps unwise to get into a fist fight with the princelings, especially given she was the daughter of the hand, but even so...Lyssa was rather pleased with herself.

[shadowbrn]

scott  mccall  (  @withguilt​  )  said  to  cora  hale  ;  ❛  it’s not a story ― it really happened.  ❜

cora  often  doesn’t  have  the  energy  to  deal  with  other  people.  she  doesn’t  feel  like  dealing  with  whatever  chaos  it  is  that  they  distribute,  and  scott  and  his  pack  are  often  at  the  heart  of  it  all  .  .  .  unsurprisingly.  so  when  scott  comes  to  her  like  this?  she  just  sighs,  ❝  why  does  everything  that  happens  to  you  guys  sound  like  a  really  bad  movie?  ❞  she  shakes  her  head,  ❝  like  .  .  .  one  with  no  budget  at  all.  ❞