#axg week

[babyitsbeautiful]

not scared of anything (but saying this to you)   

AxG Week 2020- Let’s Get Drunk 

“You know if the greatest boxing champion of all time tells you that you need the extra practice, you should probably stop bitching and start appreciating the opportunity he’s giving you, stupid.” 

[thevelvetroad]

underneath my being is a road that disappeared

Arya x Gendry Week Day 1 - The Return of Spring 

“Spring brought me here,” she whispered and looked up at him with her dark brows furrowed.

enjoy!

[bookedandbusythough]

let’s run away

“Let’s run away,” Arya murmured under her breath.

Gendry turned his head slightly to look at her. She refused to meet his gaze, so he finally tilted his head back up toward the sky.

They were studying the stars as Arya called it. Here and there, she would point out a certain group of stars or a single star and give Gendry its name. Gendry stared up at the one she’d named Nymeria. He wasn’t sure that’s what the maesters called it, but what difference did it make?

He felt her warm hand grasp his where it rested in the grass between their bodies. She squeezed it.

“Let’s run away,” she repeated.

He squeezed back softly. “Where would we go?”

“To my brother. Or back to Acorn Hall. Or nowhere. We can find a grove of trees and we’ll make it our own. No one would find us unless we wanted them to.”

Gendry lifted their clasped hands, stared at them for a moment then brought their hands to rest on his chest so she had to shift closer to him, so her head was almost touching his.

“How would we get away?” Ever so slightly, Gendry shifted as well so her head was resting flush against his broad shoulder.

“We’ll wait until they’re all fast asleep and we’ll take the horses and the gold. Lem’s on watch tonight; he’s always in his cups and falls asleep.”

Arya lifted her head until it was nestled gently on his chest, Gendry lifted their entwined hands to accommodate her before resting their hands once again, now on her.

“What would we do?” He asked.

This was her favorite game. Make up ways to get away. Imagine what they’d do once they were away. They never followed through no matter how serious Arya sometimes seemed. Gendry would have if she’d asked it of him. The alternative was losing her to her family.

She tilted her head so their eyes met. “Whatever we want. Whenever we want. We’d have all the weapons and horses and gold. We could go get Hot Pie and find Weasel.” Here, Arry’s voice grew wistful. “We could stay together.”

Gendry held her firmly against him, rueing the moment that Hardin or Lem or Anguy would realize they’d been gone a moment longer than necessary for gathering kindling. 

“As m’lady commands,” he whispered into her hair. He grunted a moment later when she elbowed him. But she settled back into his embrace, resting her chin on his chest now so they were facing each other. Her eyes were hard.

“I’m serious this time, Gendry. I heard Thoros and Dondarrion talking about how my mother would banish you. Or worse.” 

Gendry paused from where he’d been rubbing the end of her braid between his thumb and forefinger. He watched her eyes for a moment as they searched his then leaned up only far enough to rest his forehead against hers.

“Let’s run away,” he finally repeated. “Doesn’t matter how or where or what we do.” He rubbed his thumb over her lip. “As long as we’re together.”

Arya pursed her lips against his thumb. Not quite a kiss, but close. Gendry smoothed her hair away from her face and let her rest her head against him once more.

[anxious-acushla]

𝔸𝕣𝕪𝕒 𝕩 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕪 𝕎𝕖𝕖𝕜 𝟚𝟘𝟙𝟡: 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟜 

[wordsdontmeanshit]

That’s Not What I Meant

That’s Not What I Meant 

I finally finished the last prompt from Arya and Gendry Week 2018.

Gendry proposes to Arya, which she refuses because she isn’t a lady. A proposal fix-it.

[babyitsbeautiful]

For the writer asks 6, 11, 12, and 36 (for both CTtS and IRM, if that's not too much). Please and thank you.

Oh, Holls. I adore you. 

6. Favorite character you’ve written?

(Besides Gendry and Arya, bc obviously I love writing those two dorks) I love to write Davos. Especially when he’s being so Dadvos. Hahahaha

11. What are you planning to work on next?

So after I finish this Boy Toy fic, which is hopefully very soon, I’ll be working hard on crash through the surface in which I don’t have a definitive chapter count on yet and I think that in between those chapters I’ll work on more of the Beautiful Dangerous series with Gendrya as married Bounty Hunters. 

12. Which story of yours do you like best? why?

Beautiful Dangerous because it just became this big whirlwind fic that I loved writing. AND Marry Me because that was my first Gendrya fic that got me hooked on writing them in the first place. 

36. Post a snippet

For IRM: 

“You knew Arya was going to win Jon this whole time, so what’s with the bullshit story about her picking and choosing an eligible bachelor?”

Margaery gives him her famous warm, crooked smile, “Look, I love Arya and I’m tired of seeing her so unhappy. I just wanted to give her and you the small push you needed.”

Now he’s even more confused than he was before because the thought of Arya, his best friend being anything other than brilliantly happy all the time is such a foreign concept he’ll never grasp. What in the seven hells is she even talking about?

“What do you mean Arya isn’t happy?”

She smiles and looks over to where Sansa waits, “You’ll figure it out, love. Now go on, don’t keep her waiting.”

Since I haven’t written a word of CTTS since the first chapter other than that Rickon/Gendry meeting I already teased, here’s a snippet from the AxG Week one shot I’m currently working on. Hope this will suffice. 

All the built-up tension that’s been simmering all day comes to the surface and he’s seeing red, “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been busting my ass all day, doing everything you’ve told me to do and I’m bloody beat for fuck’s sake.”

He’s yelling, not caring for a second at the attention he’s causing when he feels a shadow creep up on his left side, smaller than him but still just as deadly.

It’s not until he hears her voice for the first time does some of that tension radiating throughout his body start to dissipate ever so slightly, “You know if the greatest boxing champion of all time tells you that you need the extra practice, you should probably stop bitching and start appreciating the opportunity he’s giving you, stupid.”

[babyitsbeautiful]

Gendrya Week 2020 || Day One || Songs & Lyrics / Celebration

‘The Last Time’ By The Script 

We said that it would last, but how come it's the last time? I'm tryna hold your hand but feeling like my hand's tied

[bookedandbusythough]

something like family

[based more off the books than the show]

_________________________________________________

the thing about communicating with gendry was that neither of them held back. if there was something to be said, they spoke the words.

from the inconsequential...

those soft little things?

you don’t, you stink!

to those matters they couldn’t keep from their minds...

i’m too bloody lowborn to be kin to m’lady high.

you can still make swords if you want...you can make them for my brother robb when we get to riverrun.

they’d griped, argued and joked back and forth so often that, listening to them, one might think they communicated exclusively using words. but every interaction between them told a different story.

and if you asked them, they’d probably eventually, if stubbornly, admit that more important things passed between them through their eyes than through their lips.

her and hot pie and lommy, they’re slowing us down, and they’re going to get us killed.

he’d said.

but even as he’d said it, arya could see the pain in his eyes at the thought of actually doing it. abandoning their three young companions who were more helpless than they themselves were. if she were to ever consciously think on it, that would be one of the moments he’d solidified himself as the one person outside her family she could trust.

why don’t you go back to stoney sept and ring that stupid girl’s bells?

she’d said.

but even as she spoke with a furrow in her brow and a grim twist of her lips, gendry could see the anger in her eyes wasn’t directed at his comments about her father’s bastard, but rather at the thought of him ringing those bells. even though she acted furious toward him the rest of the day, his heart swelled at that look in her eyes, implying she someone cared that much about him.

it was this gift of understanding between them, which they had so swiftly built, that contributed to their survival, so against the odds that it was.

behind you!

he’d said.

but it had been the exclamation of warning in his look at her in the split seconds before the assault that had prompted her to duck in time.

a sword. for me. break the lock with your hammer.

she’d said.

and though he’d grumbled and moaned before agreeing to help her them escape harrenhall, he’d decided the moment she’d first asked. there had been that earnest stubbornness in her eyes that told him this was no attempt to escape. she was going to get them out. it took nothing to trust her unconditionally.

communicating with gendry by a mere look, from the first moment they’d locked eyes, had been as natural to her as the feel of needle in her hand.

if he falls off, who do you think will find him first, the wolves or the mummers?

she’d said.

he felt much the same as her. but as he’d grown up without brothers to be close to, the feeling of familiarity had been a shock. he’d grown used to it quickly and had come to depend heavily upon it: that natural ability they seemed to share only with each other, to fully understand the other without the need to speak a word.

the wolves.

he’d said back.

even now that they had been involuntarily separated, their eyes, rather than their voices, continued to better communicate their feelings when dwelling on the other.

him.

it hadn’t turned out to be the hound, but the way gendry’s eyes had burned at the sight of the man told the undeniable story of what he’d be willing to do to undo the moment she had been taken.

she could ride with gendry and be an outlaw.

she’d dared not speak the words aloud, not in front of the hound. but the fire in her eyes at just the thought in that moment had been fierce enough for the hound to actually worry about what she was planning in order to escape. that was how brightly her desire burned to get back to his side.

often, arya no one absently wondered whether anyone from her past life, her little lady arya stark life, would recognize her, disguised as she was by the faceless men. jon? bran? perhaps. but her thoughts inevitably wandered back to gendry and his piercing blue eyes, the way he’d always seemed to know what she was thinking before she even got a chance to speak.

no.

she’d say.

sometimes aloud, risking being heard by the kindly man. but the no was always accompanied with the absolute recognition that gendry, with one look, might be able to undo the veil she’d created between her true face and the rest of the world. the certainty that he’d know her no matter: that was the strongest thread of her past to which she clung, much as she might deny it.

ser gendry, now a knight of the hollow hill, often nearly constantly wondered whether he’d ever lay eyes on her again. her: the reason his eyes were brimmed full of anger no matter the time of day. not at her. but at the odds that once he’d found something like family, he would not be allowed to keep her.

yes.

he always told himself in response, his voice muffled by the loud ringing of metal hitting metal. he didn’t question that she was alive. or that she would come back, if not for him, then for her family. foolishly, though, he hoped they were one and the same, much as he might deny it.