y’all I’m back with commissions!

will write any piece within reason (details in dm). currently 6 slots are open for September. shoot me a dm for details please and thank you!❤️

i don’t think y’all understand how absolutely fucking bonkers hilarious the current coup in russia is. like, putin’s regime was monitoring all the social networks and they were throwing people in jail over peaceful protests and declaring everyone a ‘foreign agent’ left and right for simply saying ‘no war’ and then THEY COMPLETELY OVERLOOKED A DUDE ARMED WITH TANKS AND AN ARMY OF 25 000 PEOPLE STARTING AN ACTUAL GODDAMN COUP ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS INSANELY FUNNY

they all lied. people don’t fall in love with the funny ones so i spent a lifetime cultivating this personality for nothing

she feels it more than she hears it - the warmth of a body next to her going further away, the bed shifting and dipping - and so she rises to sit up before she’s even fully awake. ‘alicent,’ she breathes, blindly reaching for her wife in the dark. ’s’mthing wrong?’

then, she hears a quiet curse, and as her eyes adjust to the dark and the reality of being woken up in the middle of the night, she finally makes out alicent’s shape perched at the edge of their bed. she squints at the bedside clock. it reads one pm.

‘darling, it’s okay,’ her wife whispers. a soft hand cups her cheek; brushes hair from her forehead. ‘go back to sleep.’ 

rhaenyra, now finally conscious enough to process her surroundings, largely ignores that. ‘what happened? are you in pain? Is it your ankles again - do you want me to massage—’

no, no - I’m fine, my love, everything is fine,’ alicent shushes her. ‘i just wanted a pickle. we should really start keeping them by the bed.’ she turns to face rhaenyra more, one hand cradling her very noticeably pregnant belly. ‘I’m sorry i woke you up. in my defense, you’ve become a terrifyingly light sleeper.’ 

i need to keep you safe at all times, rhaenyra thinks. she doesn’t voice it. ‘pickles it is, then.’ 

alicent catches her wrist as she tries to stand up. ‘rhaenyra.’ there’s a fond, exasperated warning in her tone. ‘i’m perfectly capable of getting a pickle myself. Go back to sleep.’ 

she shrugs. ‘it’s alright. I’m already awake, aren’t i? might as well.’ 

her wife raises one unamused brow at her faux-nonchalant grin. rhaenyra tries again. ‘or we could go together?’ 

‘darling. it’s a five minute trip downstairs and back. i think i’ll manage. it’s only my second trimester.’ the hand still holding her wrist turns gentle as it slides over her palm. rhaenyra watches, eyes downcast, as alicent laces their fingers together. ‘rhaenyra. what is it, really?’ 

she sighs. how does she communicate this without sounding completely bonkers? 

alicent’s eyes are soft as they watch her slowly stand up and circle the bed. they’re softer still as rhaenyra kneels in front of her, hands sliding up her warm hips to settle on the baby bump. this new curve of her wife’s body is rhaenyra’s new favorite thing about her. and this new curve of her wife’s body is rhaenyra’s new all-consuming fear. 

‘i don’t like the thought of you alone out there, in the dark,’ she confesses quietly. alicent’s silent as she lets her say her piece, and her brown eyes are filled with the desire to understand. ‘of you both. i know - i know i sound positively mad right now, but — the stairs, and with your ankles having been so sore lately, what if you trip? what if you get that hicks contraction and it’s too much, and I’m too busy snoring my way through the night to help you? i just…’ she takes a deep, shuddering breath as alicent finds her cheek again. ‘what if something happens and i’m not there?’ 

alicent waits a second before replying, and her thumb never stops stroking her cheek. she’s always been like this, rhaenyra thinks with sudden, longing type of gratitude - always endlessly patient with her, even when she didn’t deserve it.

‘you’ve always been quite protective of me,’ her wife murmurs. ‘now that I’m carrying our baby, i can’t even imagine what you must be going through. i know you want to keep me - to keep us safe, and i understand, alright?’ her other hand finds rhaenyra’s, on her stomach, and squeezes. ‘i understand, my love. but we need to work through it so you don’t stress yourself into an early grave, worrying about me. but — that’s a conversation for daytime.’ brown eyes twinkle, even in the dark, as alicent grins at her. ‘Tonight, we’ll go get a pickle together, and then we’ll go to sleep. alright?’ 

rhaenyra breathes out. something in her chest uncoils and settles.

‘alright,’ she says, and leans up to brush her lips against alicent’s waiting ones. ‘alright. i love you. i love you so much my heart drowns in it, sometimes.’ 

‘oh,’ alicent sighs. ‘i know exactly what that feels like. that’s how i love you too.’

hot take of the day: alicent hightower has bpd

full disclosure: i listened to taylor swift’s ‘dress’ while writing this

“Mrs Hightower—‘ 

“It’s Ms Hightower, Coleen.”

The young assistant gulps. “Yes. Of course. I’m so sorry—“

Alicent sighs. “What is it, Coleen?” 

“Well,” the man - the boy, really, just a wisp over twenty one - falters, clasping his thin fingers together. He really tries, bless his heart. It can’t be easy being an assistant to them both. Not that Alicent had any say in that. 

“Well?” She prompts him when it becomes clear he won’t follow up. 

Coleen gulps again. “Mrs Targaryen is here for her scheduled meeting.” 

Of course she is. 

Alicent sighs again, glancing at the clock. “You how, technically, she is also Ms Targaryen,” she points out, unnecessarily and largely rhetorically. “Just - let her in, and you may go. I mean it, Coleen. It’s a quarter past six, why are you still here?” 

“Mrs Targaryen - I mean, Ms Targaryen — she really insists on being addresses as Mrs, you know, “ Coleen babbles, his face growing more and more red with each word, and - Gods, she really needs to make it easier for the lad. At the same time, perhaps Coleen would feel more comfortable with a different manager. 

“Fine,” she cuts him off just before he’s seemingly about to hyperventilate. “Please send her in.” 

Coleen barely squeaks out a goodbye as he dashes out of her office. An exact minute later, the self-proclaimed Mrs Targaryen waltz in like she owns the place - which, she will, in a couple of years at most. 

Alicent doesn’t even lift her head from the printed out financial reports. “I would appreciate it if you got right to it, Rhaenyra,” she says, her voice neutral. “I was hoping to finish early.”

Her ex-wife - and current headache - cocks her head to the right, looking very much like a very naughty, very self-assured puppy. “Oh? Have a hot date or something of the sorts?” 

“Not that it’s any of your business since we’ve signed those papers,” Alicent retorts, finally meeting Rhaenyra’s twinkling blue eyes, “but no. The only ‘hot date’ I have is myself.” 

That stupid smirk. “Speaking from personal experience,” Rhaenyra drawls, quietly, “it’s arguably the hottest date you’ll ever have.” 

Alicent sighs. Again. Seems like all she does lately is fucking sigh. “Rhaenyra.”

“Alicent.” 

“Is there an actual point to this charade, or are you simply exploiting another opportunity to harass me?” 

At that, Rhaenyra looks actually hurt; Alicent hates how the look on her stupid handsome face makes something deep within her chest twinge with guilt. 

A second passes, and it’s gone. Rhaenyra clears her throat and speaks. “I do have a work-related reason for this meeting, believe it or not. Spending time with you is just an added bonus.” Before Alicent can scoff and retort, Rhaenyra’s face grows serious. Actually serious. “I need your help.” 

Despite the sincerity of Rhaenyra’s gaze, Alicent snorts. “What could I possibly help you with?” 

“Financial fraud,” Rhaenyra says quietly. At Alicent’s frozen expression, she snorts. “Not committing it, obviously. But.” She glances around, which is honestly ridiculous considering thy are in a closed, very private office. “Look - I have reason to believe the Stepstones documents are… murky, at best. I need a trained eye to take a look at them.” Blue eyes search hers, earnest and serious for once. “You’re the best in the field. And, more importantly, you have my absolute trust.” 

Alicent can’t hold back a scoff. “Wish I could say the same,” she mutters under her breath. 

Rhaenyra hears. Judging by her tense jaw, she hates that remark. Yet, impressively, she lets it slide. “I can’t order a full-scale audit because they’ll just cover it up before it even starts. It can’t be anything official at this point. It has to be quiet. But if I’m right…” Alicent watches as Rhaenyra takes a deep, steadying breath. “That would mean enormous proceedings. Might mean actual sentences for some people. I’m barely holding Daemon back, at this point, but we’re running out of time — ”

“Gods,” Alicent interrupts her, with a roll of her eyes. “Daemon is involved?” 

“I couldn’t very well take it to my father, now could I?” 

“Could have been a wiser choice. Actually, let me rephrase that. Anyone but Daemon would have been a wiser choice.” 

“Well. I’m taking it to you, aren’t I?” 

Gods. She could never truly say no to Rhaenyra’s begging gaze. Unless your marriage was involved. 

Alicent swallows, and pushes that thought back to the back of her mind. “Fine. I’ll take a look,” she half-says, half-warns as Rhaenyra’s whole face lights up. “That’s it. And if it turns out to be a fluke, you owe me.” 

Blue eyes are alight with badly hidden longing. “I’ll owe you either way.” 

// 

Rhaenyra absolutely set this up on purpose. 

“I can quite literally find out if there’s any discrepancies if you get me excel files of all this,” Alicent points out, brow arched as she takes a look at all of the paper folders currently flooding her desk. “It would take me about an hour. Most of the work would be done by my laptop.” 

Her ex-wife blinks at her. 

“We don’t have access to those,” she says, innocently. “If Laena tries to download them, we’ll be breaking the law, too, won’t we?” 

Not really - at least not to any serious extent, Alicent doesn’t think. But it’s the sight of Rhaenyra clutching a folder in one hand and their takeout sushi in the other, suit jacket unbuttoned and tie skewed. 

Don’t lie to yourself, at least. Lie to anyone but yourself, Alicent. 

She sighs. “Fine. Let’s just get to it.” 

//

Rhaenyra starts her old song as early as their second night together, spent hunched over historical Stepstones reports. “You were always a vision in green, you know.” 

Alicent throws a chopstick her way without looking. “Do shut up, darling.” 

//

She doesn’t shut up. But Alicent should’ve known. And she had, really - had known all along what she had signed up for, why she has signed up for it, even. 

She just hasn’t anticipated, in all honestly, for this to blow over this spectacularly. 

“I was willing to work through this!” Rhaenyra all but shouts, jaw locked and fists clenched, top buttons of her shirt undone. Angry, aggressive, attractive. “You were the one who served me papers—“

“—After two years of neglect,” Alicent hisses right back. “Two years, Rhaenyra. Two years I stood by you and watched you self-destruct with no end in sight. You’d disappear for weeks, and then come back looking half-dead. You wouldn’t listen to me no matter how I tried, and so - I stopped trying.” 

For almost a minute, no one speaks. Alicent’s breath is ragged, and heavy, like it used to be back when they’d get into this. Rhaenyra is frozen, unmoving.

Then, she swallows. “I want to try,” she says, quiet and - pleading, almost. The silver of her hair is escaping her simple updo, and Alicent has to fight the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. “I know - I know I was an absolute arsehole throughout this entire ordeal, but - I just,” she grins that self-deprecating grin that never failed to make Alicent want to soothe it with her lips, and really, is there even a point in fighting about this? “I can’t do this without you. Or - really, I can, but I don’t want to. You’re the only one I’ve ever really wanted. The only thing I ever truly needed was being with you.” 

And really, how is a woman supposed to turn that down?

Well, quite easily, of course, if it were simply that. But it’s not. For the past year, Rhaenyra has been consistently stepping up. From rehab to finally taking the rightful reins and accepting responsibility at Viserys’s company - being a pain in Alicent’s arse in the process notwithstanding - she’s been proving herself. 

And even if she hadn’t, Alicent has simply missed her wife too much to say no to this improved version of her.

//

It’s somewhere around round number three that Alicent finally figures it out. 

“The contractor companies,” she all but pants as Rhaenyra slowly nuzzles her neck, revving her up for round four. It's entirely unfair just how well she knows her body. “Rhaenyra. Wait. It’s not the income versus profits. It’s in the third-party payouts.” 

Rhaenyra’s sharp lips form the most textbook pout known to humankind. “Really,” she states more than asks. “You’re thinking about that now?” To further demonstrate her point, she digs her fingers into the flesh of Alicent’s naked hips under the hiked pencil skirt. 

Alicent gasps. And, after a quick yet wonderfully deep and dirty kiss pressed to Rhaenyra’s pout, she pushes her ex-wife off of her. 

“Oh, come on,” Rhaenyra complains, half-heartedly, but Alicent is already on her feet, back to her renewed mission. 

“Hush, you,” she throws over her naked shoulder. “You’ll get to have me as many times as you’d like once we head home.” 

Strong arms circle her waist while she pours over the papers with new determination. 

“Home,” Rhaenyra murmurs. “I quite like the sound of that. Would you like your mushy peas now, my love?”  

She presses a distracted kiss to Rhaenyra’s brow. “Yes, please. Thank you, darling.” 

“Also - see? It wasn’t just a ruse to get you back.” 

Alicent rolls her eyes at that, sparing her - ex? - wife an impatient glance. “As if you’d need a ruse,” she says. “I only agreed because I clearly knew where this would end up.” 

“With me knuckles deep inside y—“ 

“Peas, please. Now.” 

It’s only after another deep kiss that Rhaenyra wills herself to saunter off, a self-satisfied smirk firm on her lips. “I am deeply and irrevocably in love with you, Alicent Hightower,” she says, as they part. “Just so you know. Thought I’d make that perfectly clear.” 

“Oh,” Alicent says. 

“Shall I swing by your favourite chippy, too?” 

“Gods,” Alicent sighs. “You really do love me.” 

That stupid, lovely smirk. “I really, really do.” 

By the time Rhaenyra’s back, Alicent has it all figured out. As a thank you, Rhaenyra keeps her up till sunrise. 

yes they are currently happily married !!

thank youuuu it was a joy to write!

it's an eventful end to an uneventful day. unsurprisingly, it all starts with one raven reyes and her affinity for making clarke's life as annoyingly entertaining as possible. the current source of her entertainment pouts next to her. 'are you mad at me?' she sighs as she starts the car. 'no, baby. i'm not mad at you. i do have to say, when you texted me saying you're being offered weed and i told you to go for it, i didn't actually expect you to listen.'

'i just - never tried,' an insanely high lexa tries to explain, even as she all but melts into the passenger seat. 'your college stories seemed fun - everything is tingly now, clarke - can we stop by burger king?'

'burger king - oh my god, raven broke you.' clarke can't help but laugh, shaking her head. 'i take it the munchies have started?'

lexa, too preoccupied with staring at her while wearing the loopiest smile in existence, fails to reply. then: 'are you mad at me?'

'no,' she says, with a chuckle, and leans over to help her wife put on the seatbelt. lexa sighs, content and enamored, and clarke has to tell herself to focus as she pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving. 'i am a little annoyed you're high and im not, though.'

'oh!' out of the corner of her eye, clarke sees lexa busily and unproductively dig through her pockets. 'raven gave me a -- here!'

at the intersection, clarke stops at the red light and stares, entirely unamused and entirely unsurprised, as lexa proudly holds up a baggie with two miraculously un-crushed joints. 'of course,' she says. 'of course she did.'

lexa blinks. 'you don't wanna?'

'i'm driving, baby,' clarke points out, with a huff.

'oh.'

'just - put those away before we get pulled over. and before you ask, i am very not mad at you and i love you very much, okay?"

lexa's new smile - loopy and dopey and still unfairly attractive - makes a blinding return. 'okay. i love you too, clarke. my clarke.'

'your clarke,' she laughs, allowing her wife to lean in for a quick nuzzle. 'also. ask me if i wanna when we get home. and it's not just about the weed, by the way.'

lexa grins all the way home.

gera's bi-annual drabble event

y'all send me asks with rhaenicent (or any other) prompts i gotta battle this writer's block

im currenty figuring out what would be the best way to post it on tumblr lol