Delvcaem
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Ripen or Rot (There is no Standing Still) by feyd_meowtha
Fandoms: House of the Dragon (TV)
08 Aug 2026
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Summary
Daeron knows of tortures. Punishments dealt to thieves and traitors, rapists of women and murderers of children. He’s learnt that cruelty is infinitely creative, and that hatred, once stirred, is bottomless to match. For the crime of high treason, men are tied to horses and torn limb from limb. Standing between his sires, he thinks he knows how that feels.
Bookmarked by Delvcaem
09 Aug 2026
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Ormund glanced at them with a disapproving frown. Gwayne held his breath as the other tapped his fingers against the counter edge, jaw tightening as he took in words typed across the top of them. “What are these?” He hissed.
Swallowing around the tightness in his throat, Gwayne explained. “I’m presenting you with a choice. These,” he motioned to the papers on the left, “are permission slips for that trip to Braavos Daeron told us about.” His belly was doing flips as he nervously watched on for Ormond’s reaction.
Nostrils flared, Ormond shifted his shoulders back and jutted his chin up. “Let me guess. You want me to sign them?”
He pondered for a moment if that was what he wanted, before nodding. “Sign them and while Daeron is away, you and I will go to couples therapy and work out our problems. If you don’t, you can sign these instead.” He slid the papers on the right closer to Ormond. “Divorce papers.”
Bookmarked by Delvcaem
08 Aug 2026
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For a pious man, Ormund Hightower’s hands had a queer tendency to wander. And in doing so, they often found things that were best left alone.
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Three years and three lines crossed.
Bookmarked by Delvcaem
03 Aug 2026
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"Tell me you'll stay and I'll make sure your supplication is well rewarded."
The words stuck in his throat as if they were barbed and sharp at their edges. His legs fell apart wider as Ormund fucked against him, forcing punched-out sounds of pleasure from his heaving chest. Gwayne's neck felt wet with spit and the moisture of Ormund's breath, his skin crawling and burning where his cousin palmed over his stomach and hips as if he were a woman Ormund intended to fill with his babes- already dizzy with the thought of planting his seed.
"I'll stay," Gwayne choked out. "With the boy, and with you," came as an added afterthought and clarification: he would not be here to be Ormund's bedwarmer alone. There existed some honour to be claimed in that detail, he told himself.
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ormund tells gwayne of a plan, though not the one he wished to hear.Bookmarked by Delvcaem
03 Aug 2026
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Throwing the Fight by EvilPeaches
Fandoms: House of the Dragon (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
05 Aug 2026
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Summary
He's better than Ormund at many things, always has been. Dueling (not grappling, never grappling), riding (but not hunting), humility over pride.
Over the many years, he's learned that throwing the fight has a better outcome than beating his lordly cousin in any competition.
Ormund is the Head of Hightower House, after all. Sometimes the knee must be bent.
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"He was awful to you, earlier." Daeron looked distinctly uncomfortable as they sat together in what now passed for Gwayne's room in Tumbleton, a chess board between them. His nephew was wringing his hands as though they were wet rags and Daeron a washerwoman. "Those things he said..."{The false empathic look, paired with 'I'm sure you found solace with some of your brothers in arms'}
Gwayne stared at the floor, counting the cracks he found there. "Put it from your mind, Daeron. It was meant to humiliate me, not you. Long has he missed throwing his knives at me, in my absence. That is all that was. His idea of fun. A warm welcome home, if you will."
Bookmarked by Delvcaem
02 Aug 2026