Fanifiction - Tumblr Posts

I have a fanfiction and a work of art, both need to be completed by next month and instead of actually doing anything about it, I'm just going to just imagine myself doing it until it's too late and I rush it all in a frenzy only to hope my outcome of it doesn't look pathetic

What We’ve Become (A Gendrya Fic)

Arya had been walking back from the training grounds when the first dragon flew overhead.  A sight that would be burnt in her mind forever. All black with red in its wings like the fire that lived in its belly was seeping out.  The second dragon was smaller, but no less exhilarating to behold. She had turned then and made her way to the tallest bridge in Winterfell.

She could see the Queen’s caravan, but even from her perch, she was only glimpsing a portion of the armies. Horse lords from the plains of Essos littered the fields with more horses than Arya had ever seen in her life. Along the road, cart after cart of dragon glass was being wheeled toward Winterfell’s forge.  The only thing capable of killing the White Walkers beside Valyrian steel and good old fashioned fire.  And above the slew of soldiers, the twin dragons circled in big, lazy lopes.

Arya knew she should have been down in the courtyard with Bran and Sansa.  She was meant to be down there greeting their new queen.  More than that, she knew she should want to be down there.  Jon was down there.  She hadn’t seen Jon since he’d given her Needle and set off for the Wall.  But she couldn’t bring herself to leave the bridge.  To tear her eyes from the magnificent creatures that were long thought extinct.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, watching the dragons and eyeing the caravan, but the sun had arched its way high into the sky.  Footsteps crunched in the snow behind her.  She stilled.  She didn’t recognize the footsteps.  She kept her eyes trained on the swooping beasts, but her attention was now on her newly arrived company.

“Arya?”

She turned then, at the familiar voice.  His eyes were wide as saucers as he looked at her.  Arya took him in as well.  His hair was longer.  His face harder.  But it was something in his eyes that caught her interest.  He was different.  Different like Bran was different.  Like Sansa was different.  Like she was different.  But there was more to him.  Something she recognized, but couldn’t place quite yet.

“Is it really you?” He asked, breathlessly.

She smiled.  She had to work to put the expression on her face. Had there ever been a time when she had smiled with ease?  Jon had always been her favorite.  She should be grinning like a fool at the sight of him.  But too much had happened for her to smile so easily.  She had seen too much.  Lost too much.  

Jon didn’t seem to notice her struggle.  He crossed the distance between them and scooped her up into his arms.  He’d gotten smaller.  She noticed as he held her.  Or she’d gotten bigger.  She hadn’t thought so before, but she used to have to jump to put her arms around his neck, now she reached it with ease.

As if suddenly sensing Arya’s internal conflict, Jon released her and stepped back.  He was beaming.  Smiling with his whole face the way she should’ve been.  She mimicked his expression, forcing a lightness she did not feel.  One of the dragons screamed in the background drawing both of their eyes back to the sky.

Two dragons, she remembered why that was wrong.  The Dragon Queen was meant to have three dragons.  Three dragons like the Targaryen sigil.  One was missing.

“An army of the dead,” Arya said.  She had heard Jon and a small band of warriors had travelled beyond the Wall to capture a Wight.  They must be more fearsome than any of the stories would have her believe if they were capable of taking down a dragon.

“I’ll protect you,” Jon promised. “You, Sansa, and Bran I’ll keep you all safe.”

He didn’t understand. She wasn’t asking for protection. She only wanted to know what he knew. He’d fought off the White Walkers more than once and he was still standing.  Still, Arya smiled at the sentiment.  It was easier this time.

“Maybe I’ll protect you.”

Jon laughed.  Five years before, even three years before, she would have gotten angry at his laughing.  Arya didn’t get upset when people underestimated her anymore.  She could always twist it to her advantage. She could walk freely wherever she pleased and if anyone tried to harm her, they’d be too close to evade her blade.

“You should come down and meet Daenerys.  She’s nothing like Cersei, I promise.” Jon said after he finished laughing.

“Maybe later.”

Jon frowned.  The old Arya could never say no to him.  Poor Jon.  He still didn’t know that the old Arya was dead.  No matter how hard Arya was trying to revive her.

“You know, if you met her, she might introduce you to her dragons.”

Arya had to admit, that was pretty tempting.  She frowned out at the caravan.  The dragons were circling each other.  They were clearly missing their sibling.  They kept letting out terrible cries.  To anyone else, they might sound frightening, but Arya could hear the mournful sigh in them. Below, the horse lords and Unsullied were setting up tents.  Winterfell wasn’t big enough to house them all within its walls.  Such a large sweeping army and they were all here for Daenerys Targaryen.  Arya turned to face her brother completely.

“Is that Needle?” Jon asked, nodding to her hip.

Arya’s hand dropped to the hilt almost on instinct.  She gave her brother a small smile.  She remembered practicing with Micah after Jon had given it to her.  She remembered her dancing lessons with Syrio after her father had found her with it.  She remembered spearing the stable boy through the gut after her father was arrested. She remembered losing it when the gold cloaks had come for Gendry.  She remembered Polliver using it to kill Lommy.  Arya curled her fist around the grip.

“I’m not sure which gift was better; the sword you gave me or the lessons father arranged to help me use it.”

Jon’s brows shot up in surprise.  “And have you?  Used it?”

Arya patted the hilt. Her expression darkened.  “Not as much as I would have liked.”

“We’re down in the hall,” Jon said after a beat.  “There’s a few more due to come back by tonight.  Daenerys’ general, translator, and our new smith are all down with the Dothraki now, but they should be back for dinner.”  When Arya didn’t reply, he turned to walk away.

“You’ve seen him.” She said, deciding on that look in his eyes.

“Hm?” He asked, turning back to her.

“The God of Death. You’ve seen him.”

Jon paled.  His brow knit together in confusion.  “Who told you that?”

“It’s in your eyes.” She decided against telling Jon about her time in the House of Black and White.  “I’ve seen that look before.  I knew a man who’d been killed and brought back six times by a Priest for the Lord of Light.  Who brought you back?”

“A Priestess called Melisandre.” Jon confessed.  “That man that was brought back six times wouldn’t happen to be Beric Dondarrion?”

It was Arya’s turn to be surprised.  “You’ve heard of him?”

Jon laughed again. “I’ve fought with him.  He was with us when we went beyond the Wall. The Priest who brought him back all those times didn’t make it, but Beric is here with us.”

Arya scowled.  “I’ll kill him.”  She snarled.

Jon put a hand on Arya’s shoulder.  “He’s a good fighter.  We need good fighters.  Whatever squabbles you have with him, stow them away.”

Arya huffed.  She could spare Lord Beric.  She didn’t have to like it, but she didn’t have to kill him. The Red Witch wasn’t going to be so lucky.  Beric may have sold him, but it was the witch that killed him.  When she saw her again, as the witch had promised, it would be the same minute that Arya cut the woman’s throat.

She turned back to the dragons.  Jon stayed for a few minutes more, but left when he realized Arya would say no more. She stayed on the bridge until the dragons disappeared from the sky, following the sun.  She wondered where they had decided to take up roost for the night.  Winterfell was not fit to house such large beasts and Arya knew of no caves for them to sleep in.

Her stomach growled and it would seem she could avoid it no longer.  She had meant to take a bath after her training session that morning. Sansa had insisted that while she need not wear a dress, Arya must at least be clean for the Queen’s arrival. Arya sniffed at herself.  She didn’t smell terrible.  Besides she had no intentions of getting close enough for the Dragon Queen to smell her.

Arya turned for the great hall.  It was time to go make nice with the Targaryen girl.

“Arya!” Sansa scolded in an impeccable imitation of their mother.  “Where on earth have you been?”

Arya stared at her sister stoically until the older girl folded and looked away.  Sansa was still scared of her though she did everything she could to hide it.  Arya knew just as she knew that Sansa truly had nothing to fear.  Arya could no more harm her sister than she could birth a dragon.

“You Grace,” Sansa said, addressing the woman to her left, “may I introduce my younger sister, Arya.”

Arya looked at the silver haired woman.  She’d heard tales of the Targaryens all her life.  How their beauty was otherworldly.  Arya could see now that those tales held true.  Daenerys was gorgeous.  She had creamy skin to rival Sansa’s.  No wonder her sister despised the woman so much though Arya knew it had to do with more than just her looks.  Sansa had wanted nothing more her whole life than to be queen.  She never would with Daenerys and her dragons around.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Arya.” Her voice was stronger than Arya would have guessed.  Strong, but undeniably kind.  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Arya flicked her eyes over to Jon.  She noticed how close he was sitting to the Queen and remembered how he had called her Daenerys.  No title. Arya bit her lip and turned her eyes back to Daenerys.  She smiled.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to what I’ve heard of you.  And, please, it’s just Arya, Your Grace.  I’m no lady.”

An amused smile danced across the Queen’s plump lips.  Arya couldn’t blame Jon.  Any man would find a woman like her irresistible.  What could it be like, Arya wondered, to wear that face?

“Do we need to make room?” Daenerys asked, unaware of the horrendous thoughts happening in Arya’s head. She looked around the long table for a spare seat for Arya.  Arya looked beyond Jon for the first time and saw that she recognized one more person at the table.  Tyrion Lannister.

“No need, Your Grace, I am perfectly happy sitting down here.”  She gave a small bow and turned away.  She’d be asking Jon about the imp’s presence the moment they were alone again.

“Should’ve guessed you’d be skulking around here.”

Arya felt every muscle in her body lock up.  She turned her gaze up, up, up until she saw his face and could deny it no longer. The Hound was standing in front of her. The bloody fucking Hound.

“You should be dead.” Arya told him as if he had forgotten.

“He should be going hungry,” Jon muttered from his seat.  Arya looked at him curiously.

“How was I to know, eh? You and your stupid mission.”  The Hound growled.

“You’re lucky Queen Daenerys was there to save our asses.” Jon snapped back.

“Not all our asses, Lord Snow.”  Arya cast her eyes on Beric Dondarrion.  He smiled down at her.  “Glad to see you made it home safely, little lady.”

Arya scowled at him. “Shame you didn’t have the chance to sell me off, too.”

Beric opened his mouth. Arya just knew he was going to give her more yarn about how it was for ‘the greater good’ or whatever.  Luckily, Jon stepped in.  Probably more to keep Arya from gutting the scoundrel in front of his new lady love.

“Lord Beric, could I see you for a bit?” Jon was around the table and ushering Beric away from Arya and out of the hall.

“Arya!” Sansa hissed at her.

She looked back at her sister.  Sansa swiped her hand through the air in front of her neck and mouthed the words ‘cut it out’.  Arya rolled her eyes.  The Hound stepped around Arya and bowed in front of Sansa and Daenerys.  He may have earned his way off her list, but Arya still didn’t exactly like the Hound.  He was the antithesis to her father in terms of what a man should be.  He wasn’t noble or refined, but he was alive.  She couldn’t decide if that made her happy or not.

“Where’s Bran?” Arya asked Sansa.

“Same place as always.” Sansa answered, bored.

Arya took a plate of food and sat down to eat.  The hall was brimming with people of all sorts.  She finished her first plate and went back for seconds.  She hadn’t thought about eating since seeing the dragons. Now she couldn’t get enough.  She downed two glasses of ale and sighed, content only after her third helping.

Arya wiped her mouth and stood.  She had no desire to stay in present company any longer than necessary.  Jon was still away with Beric when Arya made her way back to the long table to say her goodnights.  Daenerys smiled at her when she approached again.  Arya forced herself to smile back.

“Are you leaving?”

“I have other matters to attend to.” Arya said delicately.

“Are you sure?  I would like to know you better.  All I have to go on are the stories your brother and Lord Tyrion have told me on our journey here and what little your sister seems to be willing to divulge.”

Arya eyed the imp who seemed entirely too focused on the plate in front of him.  Arya smiled at Daenerys politely.

“There really isn’t much else to know.”

“I don’t believe that. You escaped a whole army of men when you were what?  Ten? Anyone capable of something like that must have only grown more skilled.  And you carry a sword and a dagger.  I don’t know many women that do that.”

“Maybe some other time?” Arya said, desperate to leave the hall.

Daenerys’ face dropped. “Alright, then.”

Arya gave a small bow to Daenerys and a nod to her sister before moving for the exit.  She only made it a few steps before the door opened and a small troop of people lumbered inside.  A dark skinned man with the grimmest face Arya’d ever seen stormed inside followed by a beautiful dark skinned woman and two soldiers.  The door shut behind the fifth person.

Arya’s heart stopped. His hair was shorter.  Almost nonexistent making his ears stick out comically.  But it was him.  Arya gave her head a small shake.  It couldn’t be him.  The witch had killed him.  His blue eyes locked on hers.  His mouth fell open in surprise.  Then, a slow, delicious smile spread across his face.

He stopped a foot or two in front of her, still smiling that easy grin of his and Arya still couldn’t find her breath.  She watched every movement.  She was sure it was still loud in the hall, but her ears were filled with buzzing. Gendry dropped into a low, ridiculous bow.

“M’lady,” he greeted.

Arya let out a small, strangled noise that seemed to start her breathing again.  Gendry straightened back up and looked at her with concern. Arya’s whole body was shaking as she threw her arms around him, hopping up to catch him around the neck.  She felt a bit of pride in how strong she’d become when he had to take a step back to keep his balance.

“You’re alive,” she heard herself gasp.  “You’re alive.  You’re alive! Gendry, you’re alive!” She marveled.

Gendry’s strong arms were around her, squeezing her like they used to.  She buried her face in his neck, surprised at the tears she felt on her cheeks.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried.

“You, too, though it’s not so much a surprise.  You’ll be the only one of us to survive this mess.  I’m sure of it.” Gendry answered, still holding her tight.

“And you!” Arya argued. She had him back!  She couldn’t think about losing him again, now.

Gendry set her down, keeping his hands on her arms.  He smiled down at her face.  His eyes were shining with tears, too, though they had not yet fallen.  He reached up with one hand and tugged the ends of her hair.

“Look how long it’s gotten.” He teased.  “You almost look like a real princess.”

Arya laughed, surprising even herself and reached her hand up to rub his nearly bald head.  “You’ve gone and cut all yours off!  Wanted a sneak preview of what you’ll look like in thirty years?” She teased back.  She hadn’t teased anyone in years.  She hadn’t laughed in longer.

“You come work a forge with hair like that, your head’ll catch fire.” Gendry told her, touching his head, self-consciously.

Arya was still trembling. All she wanted was to hug Gendry again and never let go.  It was an insane desire.  There was an army of undead soldiers marching for them as they spoke and all she wanted was to take Gendry and disappear into the woods.

“Excuse me.” Arya looked up to see the dark skinned woman standing beside them.  “Queen Daenerys would like to speak to you.”  She told Gendry.

Gendry looked startled at the woman’s appearance.  He looked around, abashedly and nodded.  His hands dropped from Arya’s arms and he stepped away from her.  Arya’s heart squeezed.  She didn’t want him to be even one step away from her.  She fought down the impulse to cling to his shirt.

Arya shook herself. It was ridiculous.  She was acting like someone gone mad.  She glanced up at Sansa who was giving her a smug little smile. Arya scowled at her and turned her back, hurrying out of the hall and well away from Gendry.

So distracted was she, that she didn’t notice the drunken red haired man slumped against the stables. She rammed her face into his back toppling them both into the mud.  Arya growled and jumped to her feet.  The red haired man didn’t stand back up.  Arya had a sudden fear that he was dead.  She reached down and pulled him up until he was sitting.

“Hey, hey, are you dead?” Arya demanded.

“Nnno.” The man answered. “Not yet.” His eyes were shut and he was swaying.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Tormund.” He hummed. “You seen a woman around here?”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s a big woman.  Like a bear.  Big, blonde bear.  Lovely woman.” He slurred.

Arya stood up and put her hands on her hips.  The filthy drunk was covered in mud and searching for Brienne.  She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Brienne knew this man in the first place unless it was through combat.

“Arya!” Gendry called behind her.  She yelled at herself to behave.  It was just Gendry.  She didn’t know why she was acting like it was a big deal.  He wasn’t a dragon. He was just Gendry.

Just Gendry grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him.  “Hey, what did you run off for?”

“I didn’t run off.  I was already leaving when you came in.” Arya told him coolly.

“Leaving?” Gendry parroted. “Leaving Winterfell?”

“Leaving for bed.” Arya clarified, though she didn’t think she should need to.

“Oh.” Gendry tucked his hands under his arms and tried to hide a shiver.  “I just thought….”

“You’re the new smith Jon was talking about, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Gendry laughed. “Well, there’s loads of new smiths right now, yeah?  The forge is being added onto as we speak.  Jon’s made me overseer.  Sounds like a good thing, but any mistakes in the weapons comes down on me now.”

Arya smiled at him. “You can handle it.  You’re the best.”

Gendry smiled and looked down at the mud and snow at their feet.  He looked back at the hall when the door opened and a couple soldiers filtered out.  He cleared his throat.

“Surprised to see the Hound still walking around.  I figured he was good as dead the second you laid eyes on him.”

Arya frowned.  “Why would you assume that?”

“Well he was on your list, wasn’t he?  Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, Meryn Trant, the Mountain, and the Hound.” Gendry recited.

“You remembered my list?”

Gendry chuckled. “Arya, you must’ve recited that list in my ear a million times a night.  Sometimes when I’m working, I start saying it as I swing my hammer.  I heard Meryn Trant was killed in a brothel in Braavos and Joffrey choked to death at his own wedding.  You take out the Hound and you’ll be half through your list.”

Arya shook her head. “I already took him off.”

“Why?”

Arya shrugged.  “I just did.”

“Well someone oughta kill him after what he did North of the Wall.” Gendry grumbled.

Arya stared at him. “North of the Wall.  You went North of the Wall?”

Gendry smirked. “Jealous?”

Arya smacked his arm. “Idiot!”

Gendry laughed.  He nodded to the red haired man on the ground behind her.  “He went, too.  I think you’d really like it up there, you know.  It’s all wild and dangerous.  We were attacked by an undead bear soon as we stepped foot outside Eastwatch.  Oh, you’d love it.”

Arya rolled her eyes.  She was a bit jealous, but there was something else. She was angry that Gendry had risked White Walkers and nearly got himself killed before she’d gotten to see him again.

They stood in silence for a bit.  There was so much to say between them it seemed neither of them knew where to start. She didn’t know what to ask him first. She wanted to know more about what happened with the White Walkers.  She wanted to know where he’d been all this time.  How he had survived the Red Witch.  Why he hadn’t tried to find her sooner to let her know he wasn’t dead.  

“What happened?” Gendry asked, beating her to it.

Arya looked up at him. Searching for clarity.  Was he asking why she hadn’t chased after him when they’d tied him up and thrown him in the back of a cart like luggage?  Why she hadn’t fought tooth and nail to keep him at her side?

“When I heard about the Red Wedding – about your brother and mother – I kept waiting for news of you. The Brotherhood was taking you to them and I thought if they’d taken you there, you’d be dead.  I thought, surely not.  Not Arya.  I didn’t know your brother, but I knew you and I thought maybe they could get the best of the King in the North, but not my Arya.”

“I got there in the middle of it all.” Arya told him, ignoring the thrill that ran up her spine at hearing him call her ‘his Arya.’  “I couldn’t do anything to stop it, but I saw.  I saw when they paraded my brother’s body around with Grey Wind’s head sewn on his body where his head should’ve been.  But the Freys didn’t know I was there.  They didn’t see me.  None of them ever saw me until it was too late.” She finished, darkly.

“That was you, then? The Frey massacre?”

Arya scoffed. “Massacre. They only drank poison.  It was a kinder death than any of them deserved.”

Gendry frowned.  “How many people have you killed now?”  The question was only curious.  There was no judgement behind it.  Not like when Sansa had asked.  Or demanded.  Arya shrugged.  “You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?”

“I guess I just stopped counting.”

There was a pause. The silence between them twisted in the air and threatened to strangle the very breath from Arya.  She didn’t know if she could handle Gendry being horrified by her.  Anyone but him.

“So unladylike.” He said at last.

Arya’s eyebrows shot up and she barked out a surprised laugh.  Relief washed over her. She pushed Gendry, lightly.  He caught her hand up when she pulled away and gave it a small squeeze.

“What about you?  I thought for sure that witch was going to kill you.”

“No.” Gendry said.  He flushed, curiously.  “She was going to, but she didn’t.”

Arya frowned at his red face, visible even in the low moonlight. Behind her, Tormund let out a laugh that sounded more like he was choking.  Arya looked down at him.

“She tied the boy to the bed and had her way with ‘im!” He crowed.

Arya looked back to Gendry for denial.  He only burned brighter.  Arya felt a crazy, jealous rage in her gut.  It didn’t make any sense, the jealousy.  The rage she understood completely.

“She put leeches on me.” Gendry muttered pathetically.

“She didn’t kill you.” Arya snapped back.

Gendry was quiet.  He shot a withering glare at Tormund on the ground who only laughed harder.  Arya was warring with herself.  She wanted to leave.  To go to bed. But at the same time, she didn’t want to let Gendry out of her sight.  Not ever again.

Arya huffed and turned for her room.  Gendry’s hand shot out to grab her, but she evaded him neatly.

“Arya, come back!” Gendry cried.  “What about Tormund?”

“You like redheads so much, you take care of him.” She lobbed back without stopping.

Also available HERE on AO3!!!

I'm thinking of making an au for LU, all the links are going to all be messed up as in their all going to be different heros. So like legend would be the hero of twilight and so on. Its called misplaced heros au. Thats the basic idea of it but there will be more to it. It will be its own adventure and not the games. If you have any questions just message me :)

Note: this idea came from a fanfiction so not all credit goes to me. All I'm doing is taking the idea and making it my own.

Here is the fanfic I'm taking the idea from

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26898145/chapters/65635627

(I have just found a fanfic I've been looking for)

MY LOVE, YOU HAVE RETURNED TO ME AT LAST!!

YOUR NAME RINGS OUT LIKE A BELL FROM THE HEAVENS ABOVE!!

PACIFIC RIM AU!!