Microsoft Word Time

Ask me to write an imagine, headcanon, or anything inbetween.

[fae-main]

in my mind, once Ridoc is actually in a relationship he is VERY committed to that person. To the point where he gets blackout drunk and his significant other is flirting with him and he is like “Sorry, you’re hot and all, but I’ve got a partner that I love.” And the partner is just standing there like 🧍‍♀️ DID I COCKBLOCK MYSELF?

[tasha-writes]

I will be staying off most social media until it's time for the election results to be in. I will watch my Mighty Nein campaign and crochet. Then. When it is Time. I will open Tumblr and receive my political news the good old fashioned way.

The Destiel meme.

[tasha-writes]

Whatever Carrie Ann was on when she was judging Halloween night.. get her tf off it.

Dwight and Daniella (all my love) getting the first 10? Everyone after that she gives a 10 right up to Chandler and Brandon, who she gives a 9. BRUNO AND DEREK GAVE THEM 10S???? THEY DESERVED 10S ACROSS THE BOARD.

God I hate Carrie Ann.

[tasha-writes]

Me: Hey did you know Percy died?

Bf: Jackson?

Me: De Rolo.

Bf: Holy Shit?!?!

[tasha-writes]

Ok so I thought that my DND loving bf, like me, knew the endgame of the LoVM campaign (I haven't actually watched it, I just exist on the internet).... APPARANTLY HE DOESNT???? HE THINKS I SPOILED HIS FAVORITE CHARACTERS DEATH 😭😭.

Anyway, as of 10/25/24 he hasn't seen episodes 7-12 of season 3 so...wow. I'm literally astounded.

[tasha-writes]

Me: Hey did you know Percy died?

Bf: Jackson?

Me: De Rolo.

Bf: Holy Shit?!?!

[tasha-writes]

A Stitch in Time - Part 4

Yes this fic is still progressing, I just may or may not have been forgetting to post here instead of ao3, whoopsie.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Alicent grimaced Sunfyre skittered over her lap. The dragon was approximately the size of a cat, but his tiny talons were sharp as knives. Currently, the young dragon was playing fetch of all things with Aegon. Helaena watched attentively from her cradle, the closest she ever got to matching Aegon’s claps and giggles. Aegon had his tempers as a child to be sure, but overall, he had been such a lovely baby. How did that turn into the drunkard rapist in her dream? Her other life? Two days of mulling it over and she still couldn’t be sure. 

She did, however, remember the source of her antipathy towards Rhaenyra and found herself angry all over again. Whether it be months or years of separation from the event, Alicent still found her temper boiling at the lie Rhaenyra had fed her. Their years of friendship apparently meaning nothing. Had Rhaenyra told the truth, Alicent would have protected her. Wouldn’t she? She was almost sure that she would. It was the lie that hurt the most. 

The door to the nursery banged open, throwing Helaena into one of her screaming fits immediately. The screaming infant sent the tiny dragon barreling into the wobbling toddler that was Aegon and knocking him over, sending him into a kicking and screaming tantrum himself. Alicent almost felt bad for the little gold dragon who was now being squeezed for comfort. “You dismissed Ser Criston!” Alicent suddenly felt like screaming and crying in unison with her children. 

Instead, she went to Helaena in an attempt to comfort the ever-crying infant. “Rhaenyra,” 

“What did he tell you?” Alicent sighed. She wondered if Rhaenyra knew she was incriminating herself, although Alicent already knew the truth.

“I will speak plainly, stepdaughter,” Rhaenyra scoffed, “He bloodied his white cloak with your maidenhead, for that alone I should have dismissed him immediately. And then his unsightly behavior at your wedding,” Alicent shook her head, “disgraceful.” Not to mention what Criston did with Alicent years down the line. “Close the door Rhaenyra, and - Aegon for the love of - Rhaenyra could you possibly rescue that poor lizard?” 

Rhaenyra stalked over to her brother and gently pried Sunfyre out of his grubby little hands. “Careful Aegon, kesā ossēnagon se mijegindita run. Se pār skoriot kessa ao sagon?” Alicent frowned over her shoulder at the two siblings, what could Rhaenyra have possibly said to him. ‘Careful’ had been in common tongue, careful what? Careful of your grandfather who would have you usurp me? Careful of your mother that would let him? “Alicent, you’re practically shaking poor Helaena.” Rhaenyra’s angry face was a sharp contrast to her kindly intentioned words. 

“Thank you, Rhaenyra, but I do not need instructions on how to care for mine own children,” Alicent snapped. Rhaenyra just rolled her eyes in response and sat to pet Sunfyre. 

“He confessed his sin, didn’t he. Before the welcome feast?” Rhaenyra asked after the dragon had finally decided he’d had enough and skittered off towards the fireplace. It was infuriating how astute this younger version of the princess could be when she wasn’t so busy being angry at the world. 

“You lied to me, Rhaenyra.” Alicent accused harshly. “You swore to me, on your mother, that you maintained your maidenhood,” Alicent turned towards the window, refusing to let the princess see the tears that threatened to spill. Helaena continued to cry, Alicent bounced her harder. 

“Is this truly what this whole feud has been about?” Rhaeynra scoffed, “I didn’t lie to you Alicent. I swore that Daemon had not touched me, and it is true I did not sully myself on his cock,” Alicent flinched “I never swore that I remained a maiden.” 

“That language is not suitable of a lady, much less a princess,” Alicent hissed, “Do try not to be such an influence on my son.” 

“Apologies, your Grace,” Rhaenyra spit out sarcastically, “I shall endeavor to control my mouth.”

“See that you do,” Alicent said coldly. 

“As you should endeavor to control yours about my lord husband.” Rhaenyra’s demanded, a fiery temper against Alicent’s icy one. The tension was thick enough that you could cut it with a knife, and there was something oddly comforting in that. This was what she was used to. The anger, the resentment. The back and forth of the year between Aegon’s second and third name day had been stressful. Alicent constantly felt as if she had been on eggshells. 

“It is an open secret,” Alicent scoffed, “the whole of court knows, and duly ignores it. I find I cannot do the same,” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. “Do you think that he will be able to provide you an heir? Any children you have will likely be of dubious parentage at best.” 

“Laenor and I will perform our duty to the realm.” It was almost cute how Rhaenyra actually believed that. 

“Do not act naive Rhaenyra, it does not suit you,” Alicent chided. 

“And what would you have me do?” Rhaenyra snapped, “Have no children at all? Ensure that it is Aegon and his descendants who sit the throne after me?” 

Alicent took a moment to consider courses of action and their various political insinuations. In truth, she had never imagined she would be in the position to advise, although in anger, Rhaenyra’s situation. “Lord Corlys certainly knows his son's preferences, as we all do. Annul the marriage, promise your heir to one of Laena’s children.” A clean solution that allowed for the Lord of the Tides to actually put his blood on the Iron throne, however many generations removed. 

“And how do you suggest I provide this heir?” Rhaenyra sneered, “Shall impregnate myself perhaps?”

And now for the piece de resistance, a sure-fire way for her father’s scheming to come to an end, “We joked about when we were supposed to lunch together, before you stormed off, “Alicent took a breath to steady herself, “Marry my brother. Marry Gwayne.”

Alicent’s suggestion was met with absolute silence, even the children had quieted, Helaena’s sobs having faded into hiccups. The minutes ticked by and Rhaenyra’s face had dropped into a carefully neutral expression. Was she considering Alicents offer, or just how best to say no? Alicent couldn’t blame Rhaenyra if she did, perhaps one of Otto Hightower’s children marrying into the family was more than enough. 

“What would you have done if I had told you the truth?” Rhaenyra asked quietly. “About Ser Cole?”

Why in the name of the Gods were they circling back to this? Alicent shrugged, “I would have honored your trust in me and kept our friendship, I would have acted accordingly with that.” With Helaena finally calmed down, Alicent deemed it safe to place the child in her crib and give herself a break. 

 “I should still like us to be on good terms, But it is hard when you do not trust me and have endeavored to commit sins that have damaged my trust in you as well.” 

“What has brought this on Alicent?” Rhaenyra asked. Almost as if to answer for the queen, Aegon crawled upon his elder sister's lap and started playing with the long strands that fell in front of her shoulders. 

“In truth, I fear for my children. I do not wish for them to be caught in the crossfire of our anger. Nor your children, once you bear them,” Rhaenyra grimaced at the reminder of bearing heirs. “And I am lonely,” Alicent admitted, “something that I have admitted to you previously, when Daemon returned from the Stepstones.” 

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, “We have both hurt and been hurt by half truths. Perhaps we could both endeavor to open our hearts more fully to each other.” Alicent resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the thinly veiled attack. The princess, it seemed, was still upset about Alicent’s marriage to Viserys. 

“I suppose we could,” Alicent allowed. 

“Ser Criston asked me to run away with him.” Alicents gaze shot towards the princess. Rhaenyra was looking down at the prince in her lap. “I said no, of course. My duty lies here, in the keep. He wasn’t satisfied with being my whore as he called it. And that was that.” 

Alicent wasn’t exactly sure what to say to that. She had wondered why Ser Criston had seemed so upset with Rhaenyra. “Thank you,” Alicent sighed, despite every instinct telling her otherwise, she knew she should meet Rhaenyra’s truth with one of her own. “I didn’t set out to marry your father or keep it from you. My father strongly suggested I visit him, provide solace in the aftermath of your mother’s death. Your father asked me not to tell you, I should have regardless.” It wasn’t quite an apology, but it was close as Alicent felt comfortable getting. 

Rhaenyra gently lifted Aegon from her lap and stood, crossed the room and took Alicent’s bloody and bitten hands her own calloused ones, “Thank you, Alicent.

The high valyrian means "Careful Aegon, Careful aegon, you will kill and poor thing. And then where will you be?"

I didn't want to translate in the chapter because it felt like it would take away from the pov being limited to Alicent

[tasha-writes]

A Stitch in Time - Part 3

Alicent dies and finds herself sent back and time and must figure out how to deal with the events of her previous life and find a way forward to avoid them. It's a bit harder than it sounds when she realizes it requires a level of civility and reconciliation with a certain princess.

Chapter 1

https://www.tumblr.com/tasha-writes/758631118332411904/a-stitch-in-time?source=share

Chapter 2

https://www.tumblr.com/tasha-writes/758834603569168384/a-stitch-in-time-part-two?source=share

Alicent grimaced Sunfyre skittered over her lap. The dragon was approximately the size of a cat, but his tiny talons were sharp as knives. Currently, the young dragon was playing fetch of all things with Aegon. Helaena watched attentively from her cradle, the closest she ever got to matching Aegon’s claps and giggles. Aegon had his temper’s as a child to be sure, but overall he had been such a lovely baby. How did that turn into the drunkard rapist in her dream? Her other life? Two days of mulling it over and she still couldn’t be sure. 

She did however, remember the source of her antipathy towards Rhaenyra and found herself angry all over again. Whether it be months or years of separation from the event, Alicent still found her temper boiling at the lie Rhaenyra had fed her. Their years of friendship apparently meaning nothing. Had Rhaenyra told the truth, Alicent would have protected her. Wouldn’t she? She was almost sure that she would. It was the lie that hurt the most. 

The door to the nursery banged open, throwing Helaena into one of her screaming fits immediately. The screaming infant sent the tiny dragon barreling into the wobbling toddler that was Aegon and knocking him over, sending him into a kicking and screaming tantrum himself. Alicent almost felt bad for the little gold dragon who was now being squeezed for comfort. “You dismissed Ser Criston!” Alicent suddenly felt like screaming and crying in unison with her children. 

Instead she went to Helaena in an attempt to comfort the ever crying infant. “Rhaenyra,” 

“What did he tell you?” Alicent sighed. She wondered if Rhaenyra knew she was incriminating herself, although Alicent already knew the truth.

“I will speak plainly, stepdaughter,” Rhaenyra scoffed, “He bloodied his white cloak with your maidenhead, for that alone I should have dismissed him immediately. And then his unsightly behavior at your wedding,” Alicent shook her head, “disgraceful.” Not to mention what Criston did with Alicent years down the line. “Close the door Rhaenyra, and - Aegon for the love of - Rhaenyra could you possibly rescue that poor lizard?” 

Rhaenyra stalked over to her brother and gently pried Sunfyre out of his grubby little hands. “Careful Aegon, kesā ossēnagon se mijegindita run. Se pār skoriot kessa ao sagon?” Alicent frowned over her shoulder at the two siblings, what could Rhaenyra have possibly said to him. ‘Careful’ had been in common tongue, careful what? Careful of your grandfather who would have you usurp me? Careful of your mother that would let him? “Alicent, you’re practically shaking poor Helaena.” Rhaenyra’s angry face was a sharp contrast to her kindly intentioned words. 

“Thank you Rhaenyra, but I do not need instructions on how to care for mine own children,” Alicent snapped. Rhaenyra just rolled her eyes in response and sat to pet Sunfyre. 

“He confessed his sin, didn’t he. Before the welcome feast?” Rhaenyra asked after the dragon had finally decided he’d had enough, and skittered off towards the fireplace. It was infuriating how astute this younger version of the princess could be when she wasn’t so busy being angry at the world. 

“You lied to me, Rhaenyra.” Alicent accused harshly. “You swore to me, on your mother, that you maintained your maidenhood,” Alicent turned towards the window, refusing to let the princess see the tears that threatened to spill. Helaena continued to cry, Alicent bounced her harder. 

“Is this truly what this whole feud has been about?” Rhaeynra scoffed, “I didn’t lie to you Alicent. I swore that Daemon had not touched me, and it is true I did not sully myself on his cock,” Alicent flinched  “I never swore that I remained a maiden.” 

“That language is not suitable of a lady, much less a princess,” Alicent hissed, “Do try not to be such an influence on my son.” 

“Apologies, your Grace,” Rhaenyra spit out sarcastically, “I shall endeavor to control my mouth.”

“See that you do,” Alicent said coldly. 

“As you should endeavor to control yours about my lord husband.” Rhaenyra’s demanded, a fiery temper against Alicent’s icy one. The tension was thick enough that you could cut it with a knife, and there was something oddly comforting in that. This was what she was used to. The anger, the resentment. The back and forth of the year between Aegon’s second and third name day had been stressful. Alicent constantly felt as if she had been on egg shells. 

“It is an open secret,” Alicent scoffed, “the whole of court knows, and duly ignores it. I find I can not do the same,” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. “Do you think that he will be able to provide you an heir? Any children you have will likely be of dubious parentage at best.” 

“Laenor and I will perform our duty to the realm.” It was almost cute how Rhaenyra actually believed that. 

“Do not act naive Rhaenyra, it does not suit you,” Alicent chided. 

“And what would you have me do?” Rhaenyra snapped, “Have no children at all? Ensure that it is Aegon and his descendants who sit the throne after me?” 

Alicent took a moment to consider courses of action and their various political insinuations. In truth, she had never imagined she would be in the position to advise, although in anger, Rhaenyra’s situation. “Lord Corlys certainly knows his sons preferences, as we all do. Annul the marriage, promise your heir to one of Laena’s children.” A clean solution that allowed for the Lord of the Tides to actually put his blood on the Iron throne, however many generations removed. 

“And how do you suggest I provide this heir?” Rhaenyra sneered, “Shall impregnate myself perhaps?”

And now for the piece de resistance, a sure fire way for her father’s scheming to come to an end, “We joked about when we were supposed to lunch together, before you stormed off, “ Alicent took a breath to steady herself, “Marry my brother. Marry Gwayne.”

Alicent’s suggestion was met with absolute silence, even the children had quieted, Helaena’s sobs having faded into hiccups. The minutes ticked by and Rhaenyra’s face had dropped into a carefully neutral expression. Was she considering Alicents offer, or just how best to say no? Alicent couldn’t blame Rhaenyra if she did, perhaps one of Otto Hightower’s children marrying into the family was more than enough. 

“What would you done if I had told you the truth?” Rhaenyra asked quietly. “About Ser Cole?”

Why in the name of the Gods were they circling back to this? Alicent shrugged, “I would have honored your trust in me and kept our friendship, I would have acted accordingly with that.” With Helaena finally calmed down, Alicent deemed it safe to place the child in her crib and give herself a break. 

 “I should still like us to be on good terms,  But it is hard when you do not trust me, and have endeavored to commit sins that have damaged my trust in you as well.” 

“What has brought this on Alicent?” Rhaenyra asked. Almost as if to answer for the queen, Aegon crawled upon his elder sisters lap and started playing with the long strands that fell in front of her shoulders. 

“In truth, I fear for my children. I do not wish for them to be caught in the crossfire of our anger. Nor your children, once you bear them,” Rhaenyra grimaced at the reminder of bearing heirs. “And I am lonely,” Alicent admitted, “something that I have admitted to you previously, when Daemon returned from the Stepstones.” 

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, “We have both hurt and been hurt by half truths. Perhaps we could both endeavor to open our hearts more fully to each other.” Alicent resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the thinly veiled attack. The princess, it seemed, was still upset about Alicent’s marriage to Viserys. 

“I suppose we could,” Alicent allowed. 

“Ser Criston asked me to run away with him.” Alicents gaze shot towards the princess. Rhaenyra was looking down at the prince in her lap. “I said no, of course. My duty lies here, in the keep. He wasn’t satisfied with being my whore as he called it. And that was that.” 

Alicent wasn’t exactly sure what to say to that. She had wondered why Ser Criston had seemed so upset with Rhaenyra. “Thank you,” Alicent sighed, despite every instinct telling her otherwise, she knew she should meet Rhaenyra’s truth with one of her own. “I didn’t set out to marry your father, or keep it from you. My father strongly suggested I visit him, provide solace in the aftermath of your mother’s death. You’re father asked me not to tell you, I should have regardless.” It wasn’t quite an apology, but it was close as Alicent felt comfortable getting. 

Rhaenyra gently lifted Aegon from her lap and stood, crossed the room and took Alicent’s bloody and bitten hands her own calloused ones, “Thank you, Alicent.”

[tasha-writes]

ACOTAR college AU bc I can. I originally wrote this while avoiding a math quiz and I just found it in my drafts.

Riceand

Political Science fashion design double major, you can pry this hc from my cold dead hands.

Comes from a long line of successful politicians, but fashion's the passion. Especially formal wear. Could've gone Ivy league bc of Daddy's money and influence bs, but decided to go to where Cassian and Azriel committed instead

Cassian

Probably Sports Medicine major and plans to become a certified personal trainer after college. He's on the fencing team, and in multiple martial arts clubs.

Somehow he got stuck with Eris as a roommate so he usually crashes in Azriel and Rhysands room.

Azriel

Computer science major with a focus in Cyber Security. He interns with Rhys's dad over the summers. As good as Azriel is at building firewalls, he's better at breaking them down

Feyre

Miss maam doesn't go to college. She had a Fiona Gallagher moment and dropped out of school to support her family. Eventually she starts dating Tamlin, who is like, this successful business owner in some sort of plant/gardening thing. He encourages her to get her GED. At some point she ends up with Rhysand and he encourages her to go to college and she gets a degree in Art and opens a successful gallery with art lessons.

Elaine

This bitch is an Ag major. She wants to open one of those super fancy bouquet shops after graduation. It's giving Lily Bloom

Nesta

Miss maam is a double major in political science and dance. Her mother made her choose poli sci as a major so she would prepared to be a senator's wife.

Once she and Rhys get over their little (huge) pissing contest they bond over their asshole controlling parents

She and Elaine met the bat boys when Feyre invited them over for a Christmas party. She doesn't go to the same school as they do, but an all-girls one about a 30-45 min drive away depending on traffic.

She eventually becomes a personal trainer.

Morrigan

She didn't go to college because her parents suck and tried to marry her off instead. She ends up being a polygraph operator ;)

Amren

She went to college. No body knows where or what her major was.

[prophetic-writer]

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

[tasha-writes]

A Stitch in Time - Part Two

Alicent dies and finds herself in the past. She sets out to right the wrongs of her past and more importantly, save her children.

Part 1 linked below

https://www.tumblr.com/tasha-writes/758631118332411904/a-stitch-in-time?source=share

A late night in the nursery discussing when to begin Aegon’s lessons, led to a late morning for the queen. As much as Alicent would like to say she woke peacefully in the rays of the sun, she in fact violently out of sleep thanks to a particularly nasty dream. The night the war truly had started, though no one knew at the time. When Aemond lost an eye but gained a dragon. The fear, the blood, the anger. That night had been a driving force for much of Alicent’s adult life, and it left her feeling more exhausted than when she had fallen asleep. 

Alicent allowed herself to lay in bed for a while longer before dragging herself to her vanity and beginning the process of styling her hair for the coming day. From high in the sky she heard Syrax screech, Rhaenyra must be taking her out for an afternoon flight, something she had dwindling opportunity for if Alicent remembered correctly. Soon Rhaenyra would be with child, the bastard Jacaerys, and Alicent herself would be carrying Aemond. A year after Aemond would be Daeron, and then finally Alicent would be done bearing children. Rhaenyra still had many more to go. 

By the time Alicent finished brushing and braiding her hair, it must have been close to noon. She and Rhaenyra had agreed to lunch together, which meant Alicent couldn’t hide in her rooms and remain in her dressing gown. The first trunk Alicent opened was bursting with the green dresses she had favored since Rhaenyra’s wedding. A wave of nausea came over Alicent and she slammed the lid shut. Absolutely not. 

The queen stood straight and place her hands on hips to survey the room. She knew the servants hadn’t discarded her red and black dresses despite her demands, it was just a matter of where they had put them. 5 trunks of dresses and color induced vomit session later, Alicent had selected one of the simpler designs gifted to her upon her marriage. Pure, Targaryen red, full sleeves and cut close to her throat, with a black belt pulling it in at the waist. More suited for a woman that looked older than Alicent currently did. 

After deeming her appearance acceptable for the queen of the realm, Alicent exited her rooms only slightly after the clocks had chimed noon. It had been years since Alicent had been to the library, not since she had married Viserys and taken up more useful tasks like plotting to usurp the throne with her father. Alicent grimaced, the man had been removed from court for now, but he would be back with the death of Lord Strong. Until he returned, Alicent would weave her and her children’s defenses. 

When Alicent arrived at the library, Rhaenyra was already seated at a table in the back. Aegon was bouncing on her laugh and pawing at a history book while Rhaenyra muttered to him in High Valyrian. “I think this might be the first time anyone has spoken to him in that language.” Alicent said quietly. 

Rhaenyra looked up at her, brows furrowing in confusion. “Has my father not taken the time with him?” 

Alicent shook her head and sat down across from Rhaenyra. Some remaining part of her heart ached at Rhaenyra’s claim. Her father, just hers. Not Aegon’s, not Helaena’s, as it had always been. “His Grace does not deign his second or third born worthy of his time. He treats them as they are, spares to your heir.” Rhaenyra had the humor to look slightly alarmed at this claim, and maybe even a bit pitiful. Alicent turned her eyes to her wrecked fingers and continued to pick at them. She could hear her father scolding her as if he were truly there. 

“I wish I could say that I am surprised,” Rhaenyra said, sadness tinging her voice, “but father paid me no true mind until he made me his heir to spite my uncle. He has always been single minded. And although I am not surprised, I am sorry. Your children deserve a father.” Rhaenyra reached across the table, but Alicent did not reach back. It was too soon. 

Rhaenyra seemed eager to repair their relationship now, but what if it was all fake? Could she trust this kindness, or was the princess just drawing her in to betray her once again? Was it even Rhaenyra who had begun this feud between them? When had this madness begun? Alicent couldn’t even remember anymore. The beginning of the antipathy the girls held towards each other too far buried beneath murdered kin. 

“I admit,” said Alicent, “I saw how your father behaved with you in your childhood, with your mother. I don’t know why I expected any better. Why I let my father convince me that it was worth it. I find being queen is much too tedious.” She laughed self deprecatingly. 

“And what of your father?” Rhaenyra asked. Alicent raised a brow at the blonde. “How was he as a father?” 

Alicent shrugged, “When he was not occupied with guiding your father’s judgment, he was molding my future. In some ways I think he might have been too attentive to me,” Alicent ripped part of the nail off her left pointer finger, leaving it down to the quick, “I often feel the Kingdom would be better served with my father leaving me in Oldtown, rather than my brother.” too much. She had said too much, but with the shadow of their old relationship looming over them, with Rhaenyra’s purple eyes looking at her with

Rhaenyra barked a short laugh, “Yes, perhaps then he would have schemed for me to marry Gwayne rather than you my father.” The giggle that bubbled up out of Alicent almost sent her into a state of shock. How long had it been since she had been gifted genuine laughter? 

“Laenor is lovely, but I must admit, you would be lucky to have Gwayne. My brother is almost impossibly kind, and,” Alicent wanted to stop talking, she was approaching something adjacent to happy, but some angry piece of her heart refused to stop, “much fonder of women than your lord husband.”

The merriment washed off Rhaenyra’s face as quickly as it had come. “You should have more care when speaking of the prince. Someone might overhear and take your words the wrong way.” before Alicent could protest it was joke or some slip of the tongue, Aegon was in her arms and Rhaenyra gone from the library.

[tasha-writes]

A stitch in time

Just a little brain worm about Alicent slipping back in time instead of, well, dying. let me know if I should keep this going.

Word count: 2400

The last thing Alicent remembered was feeling absolutely frigid. Despite what the Maesters said about a raging fever, her teeth chattered, and her body was wrecked with violent shivers under 4 layers of blankets. It had been 3 days of this madness, the sickness had set in quickly, as Winter Fever tended to do. As the sun faded behind the walls of Kings Landing, Alicent gave into the exhaustion plaguing her mind and body, hoping the blackness brought with it the embrace of the Stranger. 

Of course, she could not be so lucky, the Gods, it seemed, would have her suffer as long as possible for her past misdeeds. She awoke feeling more physically refreshed than she had felt in ages, bar the bone deep exhaustion that had settled into her after the war. The Dance of Dragon the smallfolk had taken to calling it. Such a graceful name for such a violent thing. 

Knowing no more sleep would come to her, although judging by the darkness it must be the early hours of morning, Alicent slowly peeled herself from her bed. Gently she picked the brush up from her vanity and lowered herself into the seat and began the lengthy process of brushing out her hair. Alicent spent the better part of an hour and a half in front of the mirror, brushing, twisting, braiding, reflecting, never once looking into the reflective surface. 

Long ago this ritual of reflecting on her mistakes had replaced her morning prayer. Her faith withering away with her sanity and beauty. Alicent gripped the handle of the brush harder and resisted the urge to throw it, to break, and rage, and bring guards running to her chambers who's only job was to keep her alive and suffering. Even winter fever could not take her, she was cursed to a long life that had been stolen from her children. 

A sharp knock startled Alicent enough that she dropped the brush in her hand. She shouldn't have been, most days she was left to her isolation, but the last couple days had seen Maesters in and out of her rooms. When no one entered Alicent trudged over to heavy doors and cracked them open. Outside stood a grouchy looking white cloak, and a rather harried looking wetnurse with a crying white haired baby. The former queen felt the phantom sensation of milk swelling in her breasts. 

"Apologies my queen, but the prince is refusing to latch, and it is bothering the princess so. I thought you might have better luck with him. I must hurry back to the nursery and see to the girl," the wetnurse shoved the crying babe into Alicents arms and scurried away. 

The guard made no move to take the young prince from Alicent, so unsure what else to do she retreated into her room to sit at the foot of her bed. It had been a long time since she had held a babe, perhaps not since she had ordered a newly born Joffrey to be brought to her chambers. When Helaena's children had been born Alicent had been more concerned with politicking than her grandchildren. 

Alicent scowled as the child in her arms made grabby hands at her chest and held it a bit farther away. This must be the offspring of Aegon and Daenaera. A child of zero relation to her thrust into her care for whatever reason. The child returned to cacophonous cried and the former queen wondered at the physical similarities to her own Aegon at this age. Targaryen genes were strong she supposed, such a shame it hadn't worked in Rhaenyra’s favor. 

Finally the babe exhausted himself and quieted down, falling asleep in her arms. Alicent still wasn't sure what to do with him. She wasn't permitted to leave her rooms, but she doubted she was supposed to have one of the heirs to the iron throne in here with her either. It was then Alicent finally looked up and made eye contact with herself in the mirror - and nearly dropped the babe on the floor.

It was like looking at her royal portrait, herself, but not. Impossibly young, haunted with responsibilities and experiences she shouldn't have had to endure. She had officially lost it, there was no possible way she had shed decades. There was no way the wet nurse had addressed her as queen in any other way than a slip of the tongue. There was no possibility that the babe in her arms did not belong to Aegon III but in fact was her own eldest child. 

Alicent screamed.  

Alicent wasn't entirely sure of she blacked out or went into shock, but but but the time her brain was properly processing information again she was sat at a large dinner table a very alive, if sick, Viserys to her left at the head. Across from her sat Rhaenyra, diligently avoiding looked at her. Laenor was sat next to Rhaenyra. On Alicents other side was two-year old Aegon, and on her lap a very tiny Helaena. Perhaps not even six-months old. Viserys was taking to Rhaenyra, something about Daemon, and Alicent squeezed her little girl tighter to her, the horror of seeing her body impaled on the spikes still a fresh wound after all these years. 

Unless… unless it had all been a dream? Or was this the dream? Had the gods blessed her with foresight, or was this her life flashing before her eyes before death finally claimed her? Alicent lifted her glass of wine with a shaking hand and didn't remove the glass from her lips until it was empty. She caught a strange look from Set Strong, hovering behind Rhaenyra, but otherwise was ignored.  

“What is your opinion on the matter, my dear?” Alicents hand halted half way towards waving the cupbearer over. 

“Sorry, opinion about what?”

“Daemon and his engagement to the Velaryon girl, we received news of the upcoming nuptials this afternoon if you recall,” Viserys reminded her. Did they? Alicent couldn't remember. She did recall Laena eventually died in labor with their third child. Died in Vaghar’s fire by the lady’s own command. 

Alicent spoke without thinking, “I suppose I feel for the poor girl. I wouldn't want to be married to the brute.” Across the table Laenor began hacking, spitting out the wine that he had been sipping on. Rhaenyra immediately began rubbing his back, a look of genuine concern passing over her face. Perfect at the role of diligent wife. 

A frowned marred Visery’s face, “That is my brother you speak of.” 

Alicent started mashing a small potato off her plate, “And so dear husband, you must know his temperament as well as I do, better even. Of the two, you have received all gentleness.” having said her piece Alicent began cooing at the baby in her lap 

“You are in rare form tonight, My Queen,” Laenor complemented, voice strained from choking on the wine. Out of the corner of her eye, Alicent saw Rhaenyra purse her lips, eyes darting between her husband, step-mother, and father, attempting to get a read on the situation. Silence filled between them, broken only by Helaena’s babbling. 

“I fear my humors are disturbed by the strangest of dreams I had last night,” Alicent allowed. She fidgeted with her fingers, staring down at her daughter’s head. The men moved on rather quickly after that, discussing matters of hunting and state, but Alicent could feel Rhaenyra’s eyes remained on her. The princess and queen remained silent for the rest of the meal, the princess studying the queen, and the queen picking at her finger nails and debating which life was reality and which was dream. And if this life was reality then what was she going to do about saving her children? Would repairing her relationship with her step-daughter be the answer? Or would truly exiling her father beyond the domain of the Iron throne be the answer? Would anything she could think to do make any difference if the Gods were determined for the dance to occur? But why would the God’s wish destruction on house Targeryean? Was she to be forced once again to lie with, to care for Viserys? Would she again be forced to reckon with her father’s scheming? Was this again? Was this for the first time or the second? Was this the only time? Had she ever truly lived past this evening as she was in it now? Had the God’s shown her the future or had her own brain manifested the worst conclusion in response to her father’s warnings? Or was she delirious and dying of white fever in that moment? 

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra’s quiet voice cut like a knife through the deafening noise in Alicent’s head. “Breathe, Alicent.” Alicent’s gaze shot up, wild with fear to meet the princess’s discerning gaze. “Are you alright?” Was she alright? No, absolutely no. She had lived a whole and terrible life and didn’t know if it was real or not. But either way, it haunted her. And she simply could not stomach sitting at a table of ghosts one moment longer. 

“Alas,” Alicent choked out, “I am not feeling my best. Quite queasy, in fact. I must excuse myself. Aegon, come” Alicent stood sharply and stalked out of the hall. Between the sharp steps of her heels, she could hear the uneasy footsteps of a toddler and the more sure ones of his maid behind her. As well as a third pair of gliding steps. Rhaenyra, no doubt, had excused herself front dinner as well and made to follow her. Alicent refused to look back or acknowledge that she was there. 

Alicent waved the wetnurse away as she came to claim Helaena from the queen’s arms, opting to tuck the babe into the cradle herself. It was strange, Alicent couldn’t remember ever doing this before with any of her children. She had lacked general attachment to her children until they were old enough to have personalities. Perhaps that was part of what led her boys to be so … unhinged. If, of course, her dream was another reality, or a future. Once Aegon was tucked in and mumbling nonsense in his sleep and Alicent had somewhat pulled together the pieces of her mental break, she deemed it safe to address Rhaenyra. 

“Are you just going to hover there, or is there something that I can do for you?” Alicent asked, voice coming out cold in her attempt to keep it even. “I can’t imagine this is you finally showing some interest in your siblings.” Rhaenyra sat on the chair next to Aegon’s bed and Alicent had to fight the terror slowly rising at the proximity of the half-siblings. 

“You seemed disturbed at dinner, and,” Rhaenyra took a breath and combed her hand through Aegon's silky baby hair, “despite everything, I still hold some affection for you.” Rhaenyra stood, “It is you who ultimately cut of our friendship, Alicent. Were you to accept peace I would gladly have it.” 

Alicent considered for a moment, but images of a burnt Aegon, a one-eyed Aemond, and a dead Helaena held her back from fully embracing the idea of peace between her and Rhaenyra. No matter what, no matter if she and her children bent the knee to Rhaenyra, there would always be lords of the realm that called for the first born son to sit the Iron Throne after Viserys. Rhaenyra would have no choice but to kill or exile Alicent’s children. She would either have to fully convince Visery’s to name Aegon his heir, or war it seemed, would be inevitable. How awful. 

“Rhaenyra, you should leave.” Alicent could almost hear the small hope Rhaenyra fostered within her heart cracking like glass. In truth she missed her friend, but she feared the arbitrator of her family’s deaths more. As Rhaenyra stood to leave, a strong wave of anxiety flooded Alicent, overcoming any of her good sense. “What will you do to my children, Rhaenyra,” Alicent wished she had drank more wine at dinner, “when your father can no longer back your claim, and the lords call for a king rather than a queen?” 

The silence that followed Alicent’s question was nerve wracking, and she wished nothing more than to bit at her nailbeds until they bled, but a show of weakness in this moment was unthinkable. “Where does this question come from, Alicent?” 

The queen resisted the urge to grate her teeth, a nonanswer at best. “My father, he has warned me that once you become queen my children’s lives might be forfeit to ensure your claim. I simply want to know what your intentions are.” Alicent’s eyes burned. Too many times she had come to Rhaenyra, for peace, friendship, and had been turned away. 

The princess sat back down and placed her hand on the queens knee. Alicent resisted the urge to jerk away, it felt like any sudden movements would destroy the fragile atmosphere of understanding. “I do not wish to hurt my brother and sister, and what other siblings may come. Given that my siblings bend the knee, you have my word their safety is guaranteed.” Rhaenyra cleared her throat and continued, “I would have them as part of my court in some capacity. One of my siblings might be hand one day, or commander of the Kings Guard. It depends what they wish for themselves, what they show capacity for.” 

The two girls sat in silence. Alicent wasn’t exactly sure how to respond, processing what the princess had told her, putting it up against her father’s paranoid warnings. Warnings she had originally dismissed, believing herself to know Rhaenyra’s character better. Warnings she had let poison her own feelings towards her former friend. That had poisoned her children towards their sister and nephews. That had planted the seeds of the war. Perhaps, perhaps it was not unavoidable after all. Perhaps, her mission to protect her children was one and the same repairing a relationship with Rhaenyra. Her father was wrong. She had known that once and lost her way. 

“You are so close with Syrax,” Alicent began, “Aegon could use such guidance with Sunfyre, I am sure. Your father is far to busy to teach him the ways of a dragon rider, and I am no expert myself. An older sister is the perfect guide.” 

Rhaenyra gifted Alicent’s outreach with a genuine smile, “I would be honored.” Perhaps, the friendship was not so unsalvageable after all.

[alrightyxaphroditee]

nsfw alphabet for jacaerys velaryon

word count: 2.02k words pairing: jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader warning(s): explicit sexual content author's note: just a quick self-indulgent set of headcanons to warm up my writing muscles! I haven't written in 3 years so I figured this was the perfect way to get back into it. hope you all enjoy ₊˚⊹♡

nsfw content beneath the cut!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jace is not one to shy away from aftercare. He loves the feeling of vulnerability as he lays with you in the afterglow, his arms encircled around your body tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Sometimes he’s very chatty, other times he allows his actions to do the speaking for him. Gentle caresses of your skin, chaste kisses pressed to your cheeks and forehead, soft squeezes of the supple flesh of your thighs - his worship of your body extends beyond the act of sex. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hair is both his favorite and least favorite part of him. On the one hand, it’s a stark reminder of the reality of his parentage, something that haunts him day in and day out. And yet the feeling of you tugging on his hair as he slowly slides in and out of you nearly sends him to heaven prematurely. He takes pride in the way that he looks, and always makes sure that his hair looks perfect.

His favorite part of you is your lips. He adores the way that you bite your lip when you’re deep in thought, often imagining that it was him biting it instead. He loves to run his thumb along your bottom lip as you’re on your knees preparing to take him into your mouth. He shivers at the feeling of your lips trailing down his neck as you ride him, the action magnifying all pleasurable sensations by tenfold.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jace will always take the opportunity to finish inside of you. Even if you are not actively trying for a pregnancy, he sometimes cannot bring himself to pull out first. If you specifically tell him not to come inside of you, he’ll likely spill on your belly or your thighs. He would never do anything that you were uncomfortable with.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Bonus points if you have silver hair and/or are a Targaryen Hahaha what (credits to my bestie bc I actually couldn’t come up with this on my own, thanks @tasha-writes)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Jace is a virgin the first time you lay together, but that does not mean he has no tricks up his sleeves. He is familiar with female anatomy to an extent, and knows the basics of how to please you. Although clumsy at first, he is an attentive lover, and quickly picks up on what makes you shiver, what makes you clench your thighs, and what makes you gasp in pleasure. He prefers to focus on giving you your pleasure, and takes pride in bringing you to your peak over and over again - that blissed out look on your face brings him to his knees every time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Jace favors any position that allows him to kiss you with no problem and that gives him an unobscured view of your face. A few favorites are the mating press, lotus, cowgirl, and missionary.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To him, sex is an act of love, so he does not mind laughing during the act. After all, what is the point if you cannot have fun with it?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Jace has exceptional hygiene, although he doesn’t put a lot of thought into grooming down there. Occasionally he will do a quick trim, but otherwise he leaves it all natural. His hair is dark and curly, just like the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This man is incredibly romantic, every time you have sex it’s a tender and intense experience. He is huge on making eye contact with you, savoring the expressions you make as he drives in and out of you, reaching the deepest parts of your body. When he’s close, he almost always presses his forehead pressed against yours, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. When he comes, he presses his face into your neck, compliments and declarations of love rolling off his tongue over and over again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only once before he married you, and he felt immensely guilty afterwards, as though he had dishonored you. Only when you are unavailable to him after marriage. When he leaves you behind for a political meeting, or when you are away visiting family without him, he will indulge himself. It is never satisfactory, as he has grown accustomed to the warmth of your body, leaving him to miss you even more.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jace is pretty vanilla as a whole, however, he does have a few mild kinks that he enjoys exploring with you. He has a pretty strong praise kink - if you compliment him during sex (or at all really), an involuntary whimper will likely fall from his lips and his hips will stutter. He’ll have to fight the urge not to finish right then.

His praise kink goes both ways, though. He’s very chatty during sex and 99.9% of the words coming out of his mouth are compliments directed towards you.

Additionally, he enjoys being edged on occasion, especially if you’re on top of him taking your own pleasure. 

The idea of you carrying his heir fills him with pride, and a fiery heat unlike anything he has ever felt before. There is a reason he loves to spill himself inside of you, beyond simple pleasure. Jace is a family man through and through, so the idea of making you round with his child definitely spurs him on.

Also, hair pulling. This one is pretty self explanatory. Have you seen this man’s hair?

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Preferably in private, he’s not shy about the way that he feels about you, and sometimes the thought of someone overhearing gives him a spike of adrenaline, but overall Jace is opposed to anyone potentially being able to walk in on you. Because of that, he sticks to pretty mundane locations - your bedchambers, his bedchambers, the bathing chambers, and when he’s feeling particularly adventurous (typically after a couple goblets of wine) once or twice in the dragonpit.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It really does not take much to get Jace going - a caress of his cheek, you playing with his hair, a soft smile at him from across the room…any attention that he gets from you has the potential to rile him up.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Jace would not be willing to share, and would probably feel a bit hurt if you were to ask for a threeesome. He already feels as though he is not good enough (for you, for his mother, for the realm, the list goes on…), so this would be an especially cruel stab through the heart. 

Jace likes for sex to be a way for him to worship you, so anything that could potentially harm you is completely out of the question. This includes choking, slapping, biting, and anything else that could be considered rough. In the same vein, he would be entirely unwilling to participate in degradation towards you of any kind. After all of the whispers that he has endured throughout his life, he would hardly want to bestow the same upon you, regardless of the intentions behind the jabs. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jace definitely prefers giving, enjoys receiving sometimes but prefers not to finish that way. He’s awkward and clumsy at first, but as I mentioned above, he’s very quick to learn what you like. He particularly enjoys pressing his tongue all the way inside of you and using his thumb to rub gentle circles on your clit, reveling in the reactions he pulls from you. 

He loves the feeling of your juices all over his lips and chin, but loves the taste of you even more. Jace is prone to making lewd comments about your taste, completely shameless and drunk on the high of giving you pleasure. 

He would be content with you being his last meal.

He enjoys receiving as well, but never asks for it outright. He prefers getting his pleasure from other acts, so he would honestly be content without it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jace tends to be more slow and sensual - he loves to take his time with you. He’s very romantic, and knows how to hit each and every angle that has you squirming and sighing in pleasure. If he’s feeling particularly in the mood, he’ll sometimes fuck you with slow, hard strokes, or fast, shallow strokes. He refuses to be rough with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If the two of you have a quickie, there's never any penetration involved. He’ll push you against the wall of your chambers before a council meeting and lap at your core until you’re begging him to stop, but that’s as far as he’s willing to go when it comes to quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jace isn’t much of a risk taker when it comes to sex. He’s willing to experiment from time to time if you suggest it, but he is very, very rarely the one to suggest it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last a good bit. On average he’ll push for two rounds - one round where he spends the majority pleasuring you in a way that does not include penetration (aka eating you out), then fucks you and finds his release a bit…too early. The second time he fucks you for a good while and pulls another orgasm from you both. Unless one of you is too tired to follow through, this is typically the route he will take.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

If it was up to Jace, there wouldn’t be the use of any toys. If he did use them, it would not be his idea, but he would use it for you. He wouldn’t be comfortable with the use of toys on himself, though, so the only toys you two would ever use would be for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jace is definitely not one to tease by nature. He loves to bring you to your release, and wastes no time in doing so. But, if you’re into teasing, he’ll try it out (and might even like it) for you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Definitely vocal. Lots of soft groans, definitely moans if/when you give him head, whimpers if you run your tongue up the side of his neck. Overall, he’s very reactive to your touch both physically and audibly.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He bites his lip and screws his eyes shut when he’s concentrating really hard on not finishing too early.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7in/17.78cm , curved upward, thick. I don’t know, I feel like it’s pretty and he knows it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jace has a very healthy sex drive for someone his age. He isn’t insufferable about it, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tends to fall asleep thirty minutes to an hour afterwards. He will not sleep until he feels that he has shown you the proper amount of attention and affection. Sometimes he’ll suggest taking a bath together before heading off to bed. He’ll take any excuse to take care of you ◡̈

author's note: thank u for reading! I hope I did him justice, this is my first time writing for him :,)

my requests are OPEN! ◡̈ dividers by cafekitsune

[tasha-writes]

I'm just going to leave this here

[tasha-writes]

I'm watching One Piece and I just made it to the Marineford arc and wow. I'm honestly kind of loving the way Buggy is gaslight, gatekeep, girlbossing way too close to the sun.

It's hilarious honestly.

[tasha-writes]

Seasonal depression

Seasonal depression is such a trip. Like yeah, for half the year I’m mostly fine. But for the other half of the year, I’m clinically sad. Existing is a chore and it feels like everything the universe does is working against me. The things that usually make me happy feel like obligation, and it takes effort to interact with the people that usually make me happy. 

For half the year I feel like there’s a weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe fully. My emotions are at the same time far too much and not at all. I feel like crying all the time, but the tears just will. not. fall. I wish I could cry, because maybe there would be some relief and I wouldn’t feel like this all. the. time. 

I often wonder how my boyfriend can even stand it. Stand me. I can’t even stand myself right now. I know it’s all ridiculous. I have no reason to feel this way except for the fact that my brain chemicals are kind of fucky. 

Seasonal Depresson. It sure is something. 

[tasha-writes]

Family recipes >>

As we approach on potluck season (I’m in way too many clubs), I have begun looking for recipes to my favorite foods. Upon looking for a chocolate pie recipe I realized that truly, no recipe can compare to my Great Aunt’s

[tasha-writes]

Being in an LDR on V-day is almost as bad as being single on V-day.