The Miracle (Part 3)

Gwayne Hightower x f!reader x Ormund Hightower

Summary: You fall asleep watching HOTD and wake up in Westeros, having fallen through the roof of the Starry Sept under divine light, right in front of the Hightowers. The septons and the crowd declare you a miracle from the Seven Gods. You must keep up the act so your strange appearance won't get you labeled a heretic and killed. But Hightowers have their own motivations. See part 1 here, part 2 here. Warnings: fictional religion, possessiveness, sexist views, some angst cuz Gwayne is a yearner and Ormund is schemer, arranged marriage, smut?, dual pov.

She slept for twelve hours. When she woke, the headache was gone and the milk of the poppy had released its hold on her mind, leaving behind only a vague memory of strange dreams and a dry mouth. She remembered Gwayne being there. She remembered talking. She did not remember what she had said.

Gwayne remembered all of it.

He had spent the night in the chapel, kneeling on the cold stone until his knees ached, turning her words over and over in his mind like a jeweler examining a flawed gem. She knows things. She knew Daemon. She spoke of his death. The prayers he offered were not the formal invocations of the Seven-Pointed Star but a silent plea for understanding that felt more like a demand.

If the gods were listening, they gave no sign.

At dawn, he rose, bathed, dressed, and went to break his fast with the composure of a man who had not just had the foundations of his world cracked open. Daeron was already at the table, picking at a plate of smoked fish with the enthusiasm of someone who would rather be anywhere else. Ormund was absent, meeting with the harbor master, a servant informed them. It felt like a reprieve.

"How is she?" Daeron asked immediately, his fork hovering forgotten above his plate. "Is she still unwell? The maester said it was only a woman's complaint, but she looked so ill yesterday."

"She is resting," Gwayne said, taking his seat. "The maester's draught was stronger than anticipated. She will recover."

"I want to see her. Later. When she's awake." Daeron hesitated, his youthful face clouding with an anxiety that looked out of place on such young features. "Is that permitted? Ormund said we shouldn't disturb her."

"Ormund is not her gaoler," Gwayne said more sharply than he intended. Daeron flinched. Gwayne softened his tone. "Of course you may see her. She would welcome the company. You know she enjoys your visits."

I Only See Daylight [ 4 ]

݈݇—Pairings: Ser Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen Princess!Reader. ݈݇—Themes/Warning: This is a love story with a tragic ending. Smut [18+]: wedding night, first time, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected pnv (wrap it up!), missionary, cowgirl/riding, manhandling, pinning, dirty talk, body worship, size kink? creampie, gwayne you hungry man, intimate/passionate sex with feelings. Chapter contains characters struggling to conceive. Courtly romance. Strangers to lovers to forced-enemies. S1–S3 HOTD canon divergence. Inspired by "DAYLIGHT" by Taylor Swift & "PROVIDER" by Sleep Token.

Masterlist - Part Three

Author’s Note: Say goodbye to the last happy chapter, because it's a downward spiral after this. I am so sorry.....kind of.

The Great Sept of Baelor was filled with light.

Sunlight poured through the high crystal windows in long golden shafts, catching on incense smoke and the pale stone of the pillars until the air itself seemed to shimmer. The court stood in hushed ranks but the sound of them felt distant, as though the world had drawn back to give the two of you this one unbroken moment.

You stood at the centre of it all, heart beating hard against the bodice of your gown.

Gwayne stood opposite you.

He was dressed in deep Hightower green, the fabric rich and severe against the strong lines of his frame. His auburn hair had been neatly combed, though a single stubborn strand had already fallen across his brow. And his clear blue eyes had not left yours since the moment you stepped into the sept. 

The Miracle (Part 2)

Gwayne Hightower x f!reader x Ormund Hightower

Summary: You fall asleep watching HOTD and wake up in Westeros, having fallen through the roof of the Starry Sept under divine light, right in front of the Hightowers. The septons and the crowd declare you a miracle from the Seven Gods. You must keep up the act so your strange appearance won't get you labeled a heretic and killed. But Hightowers have their own motivations. See part 1 here. Warnings: fictional religion, possessiveness, sexist views, some angst cuz Gwayne is a yearner, arranged marriage, eventual smut.

Gwayne had been praying more since she arrived.

It was not a fact he would have admitted aloud. Not to Ormund, certainly, who viewed piety as a tool rather than a practice, and not to Daeron, who was young enough that his faith still held the uncomplicated purity of childhood. But it was true. Every morning since the miracle in the Starry Sept, Gwayne had risen before dawn, knelt on the cold stone of the Hightower's private chapel, and prayed.

He prayed for guidance, mostly. For the wisdom to understand what the Seven intended by dropping a woman through the ceiling of the holiest place in Oldtown. For the clarity to see his role in whatever divine plan was unfolding. He prayed for his family: for Ormund, whose ambition sometimes frightened him; for Daeron, whose gentle heart seemed ill-suited to the brutal world they inhabited; for the cousins and uncles and distant relations scattered across the Reach like seeds thrown to the wind.

And he prayed for her.

That prayer was the newest and the one he returned to most often. He prayed for her safety and comfort. For her strange, sad eyes and her laugh, which burst out of her at unexpected moments like sunlight through storm clouds. He prayed that the gods had not been cruel in bringing her here, to this world of war and blood and dragonfire, where a woman alone was a woman in danger, no matter how many miracles preceded her arrival.

The gods, he was beginning to suspect, were cruel indeed.

At least Daeron had a friend.

She's being so big and brave.

The long awaited sequel.

✿ captainfern’s a knight of the seven kingdoms masterlist ✿

below the cut are my oneshots and drabbles for akotsk. please assume all work is 18+ unless labelled otherwise (sfw).

happy reading :)

(side note: sex pollen fics are marked with 🍃)

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

not doing work and thinking about tboy lo'ak.. i think theres a level of misogyny inherent to the different way jake treats his kids that would inform how he'd navigate having a trans kid + how lo'ak would define masculinity for himself... much to consider

𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲

Ser Gwayne Hightower x Lady Redwayne!reader

Where the light endures (2/?)

Part 1

For the first time in years you sleep deeply.

There is nothing extraordinary about the bed or the quiet night air, although both are comforting. This is a strange place, far from the halls you have known all your life, yet some part of you settles here.

It surprises you.

When Ormund died and the relief you expected never came, you feared it never would. Perhaps you were destined to carry that dread beneath your skin forever. But when you wake the next morning in King’s Landing, something feels different. You feel lighter. Not whole, but lighter.

As you begin to dress for the day, a servant arrives to request you join the King to break your fast. Margery helps prepare you, dressing in another black mourning gown, though this time you leave the veil behind. You slip your ring on your finger, readying yourself for the day.

Without thinking, your hand reaches toward one of the many small glass vials on your vanity. You uncork it, your body remembering the motion before your mind catches up. Lavender blooms in the air. And you freeze.

The Red Keep fades around you, replaced by another room, another morning. The memory comes not as a thought, but as a sensation. The ache in your body, the grip of his hands, the sharp edge of his voice filling the silence.

Your fingers tighten around the glass. For a long moment you don’t move. Then, with shaking hands, you set it back among the others.

"Please," you begin, your voice catching and you force it steady. "Please see that these are removed."

"Of course, my lady," Margery says gently. "Would you like new scented waters?"

You shake your head.

"No. And see to it there is no more lavender in my baths. Or rose.”

Margery dips her head. "Yes, my lady."

pairing: ser gwayne hightower x wife!reader

word count: 3,4k~4k

genre: fluff, domestic softness, married idiots in love

warnings: none really — one (1) mention of the coming war, some mild kissing, gwayne being insufferable about his hair

summary: a morning in the gardens beneath OldTown, a basket of peaches, and a knight who has never once in his life won an argument with his wife.

(set a year or so before the dance. everyone is alive. everyone is happy. we do not speak of what comes next.)

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 | gwayne hightower

| gif credits: @/barbieaemond |

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

Life in King's Landing after the wedding was a silent, armed dance. Officially, peace reigned—of course, that had been the entire purpose of it all from the very start, despite your—and especially Daemon’s—persistent objections, your mother had been adamant.

However, unofficially, the black and green servants still avoided one another in the castle's endless hallways, the black guards would grit their teeth whenever they crossed paths with the green ones, whilst you and Gwayne Hightower shared chambers that felt more like a wintry battleground than a bridal retreat.

-ˋˏ ༻ A Dalliance ༺ ˎˊ-

━ ⚔︎━  

Your squire comes to visit you quite often.

Every day, in fact. It made you worry that the next generation of knights might be missing crucial training if all of them had as much free time as he seemed to. Of course, you couldn't complain, as he'd become your sweet friend in the short amount of time you'd known him. You'd even go as far as admitting you harbored romantic interest in him.

i am wherever you are

pairings aged-up neteyam x na’vi!fem reader

notes accidental pregnancy, betrayal, angst, heavy grovelling (as it should 🤨), pregnancy and birth journey, mentions of blood, trauma, and violence, dad neteyam <33, cutest baby on pandora (neteyam’s fictional babies are ALWAYS cute), smut and suggestive themes, oral (f&m receiving),

(quick message: hello, guys! 🥹 i sweaaar, i really tried to get this ready by monday or tuesday, but i totally underestimated my irl demands and overestimated how much free time i actually had. i hated missing last week’s update and posting late this week, but that is just life right now since i just started my research paper. 🥲 i am absolutely not leaving! i still have so many ideas for meteyam, + also eyeing your requests. i am still so excited to write for everyone who wants to read, so stay tuned! i love you all and i’ve read your sweet messages 🥲 i seriously miss you guys, and i hope everyone is doing well. 🥹🙏)

synopsis as a nomad who travels around eywa’eveng to learn the ways of the other clans, being accepted into the clan of toruk makto was an honor. more especially, perhaps, when you developed something beyond friendship with neteyam. little did you know, everything you thought he was... was a lie.

word count 26.8k

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

You bit your lip to stifle an excited smile, forcefully trying to calm down even though you are already on the verge of spilling the secret that made your heart hammer against your ribs like a trapped forest ikran.

Yesterday, when you connected at the Tree of Souls, you had felt it. Soft and faint, but unmistakable. A heartbeat echoing inside your own body. There were no other symptoms yet, but you knew. You knew.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your eyes twinkling as Neteyam led you deeper into the woods. You were practically skipping, unable to contain the dizzying excitement bubbling up inside you.

He looked back at you over his shoulder. His golden eyes solemn, his expression obviously weighed down by something. “There is something I want to tell you,” he said, his voice thick, sounding as though he had to physically force the words past his throat.

But you were too excited to read through the subtlety of his expressions. You skipped a few quick steps to level your pace with his long strides. “Me, too!” you said, grinning up at him before a sudden wave of shy bashfulness made you pipe down. “I have something to tell you, too... Good news, I hope...” Your cheeks burned, and you looked away before you could see how he reacted.

One night of many

1.9k of pure filth and I’m not even sorry

18+ MDNI!! Fem!reader! Oral f!receving, riding, piv, GxG, MxM more off page but still present, sharing, watching, face riding, cuming inside, giggly sex, dom!nyra, dom!harwin, switch!gwayne, subbyswitch!reader, praise, my queen, princess, not proofread, tell me if I forget anything!

“Stop staring at them.” Rhaenyra whispers into your ear while you’re both stood on the balcony looking over the training yard. Gwayne and Harwin training together, both their shirts discarded as they are the only ones who can match the other in skill.

The events of this blurb take place after "Wrapped around your finger..." but this can also be read as a standalone blurb. Content tags are canon divergence, reader uses she/her pronouns, no physical description of reader, smut, fluff, pet names, gwayne and his wife are both bi and i love that for them, oral, slight overstimulation, reader continues to walk him like a dog :) thank you to @httpsvalarr for suggesting this part <3

While Gwayne is putting his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, he feels like he is stepping out of a dream, and coming to terms with reality again. He notes the sights and sensations around him: green curtains, woolen rug beneath his feet, rose fragrance from your hair, the sticky aroma of sweat and spend lingering on his skin.

And then he remembers. "A letter came for you while you were out." Gwayne nods to the wax sealed parchment lying on your bed.

Where the light endures (1/?)

Masterlist

When you are a girl, you dream of the day you will marry a true knight who will love you as faithfully as the heroes in the songs.

Your father promises he will find you a good and honorable lord to wed. He speaks of great castles beyond the Reach and noble houses far from home, but your heart seeks another much closer than the distant lords your father imagines.

You long for Gwayne Hightower, looking forward to the days he visits alongside his father. There is a tenderness in him that seems so absent from the men around you. Even the simple courtesy of the way he presses a kiss to the back of your hand feels like something out of the songs you cherish. You imagine a day he might look upon you the same.

It is a dream you guard closely, never daring to give it voice for fear that speaking it aloud will make it vanish. Yet you hold onto the hope that once your sister is wed to his cousin, Lord Ormund, your father might look kindly upon such a match.

Then sickness comes, and with it the Stranger. He claims your sister and the future you imagined. Dury destroys what little remains.  

Weeks later, it is you who stands beneath the vaulted ceiling of the Starry Sept and accepts the richly embroidered bride cloak from Lord Ormund Hightower as sunlight pours through the windows.  

His eyes are impossibly blue and gentle, his bearing every inch the noble lord the stories have promised. You believe him kind. You believe him true.

That illusion does not survive the night.

All For Me

Aerion Targaryen x fem!reader

✿ a/n: part three !!! so many people requested this, so here it is, and i hope you enjoy :)

part one here — part two here

my love, mine. all mine.

you don't agree with the way ormund berates daeron. after a small disagreement with your husband over this, gwayne finds himself at the end of some silent treatment. but it's not just your son daeron you're worried about, it's the little one in your tummy that gwayne is yet to discover.

husband! gwayne x wife! pregnant! reader, parent! reader & gwayne x daeron. (love this boy sm- he's fab & needs to be protected.) fluff! slight angst! comfort fic! pregnancy! mentions of difficult getting pregnant. mentions of violence off screen (my guy gwayne would knock ts out of ormund i just know it)

"you are upset."

he does not need to be loud to be heard in the library. the whistle of the wind carries his declaration with a profound softness till it reaches your ears and yet, it's not enough to lift your gaze from the book your eyes are militantly trained to uphold. he's sure you're going to set that book alight with the intensity of your stare.

"i am not." right, or perhaps rather with the flame of your curt replies.

"then you are quiet."

"you would rather me be quiet than be bitten with my anger right now, husband."

"i would not, my love," he takes a seat next to yours on the table, his hands gripping the edge of your wooden chair with an effortless ease to tug you closer. when hes successfully minimised the distance, his hands hook under your knees and bring your legs across his lap. in turn, your body just shifts in his direction, the blanket perched across your abdomen shifts slightly and he tries not to focus on the way you pull it back with instinctious ease, "bite me, dearest," he whispers tenderly, fingers tracing in soft lines up your calves "i can take it."