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The Lovers

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COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!!

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final chapter people

Sister Beatrice does not repent. She goes home to Ava.   But really, that in itself is something holy. 

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chapter 15 - psalm 46:5

The silence in the room is suffocating. He stares them down as though daring a challenge, expecting no resistance from his once faithful charges. But standing before him now, they are not women Vincent recognises: they are unyielding – the four horsemen of the apocalypse. They will not be moved.

“I have no other choice,” Vincent repeats.

Beatrice doesn’t blink. “I do.”

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chap 14 - leviticus 26:9

“Is she okay?” Lilith murmurs, though the answer is clear enough, all three of them stepping forward to ring their friends protectively. Beatrice doesn’t bother responding - just pulls Ava’s head back into her shoulder and holds her, holds her tight enough to stop her from shattering completely.

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chap 13 - psalm 10:1

So that morning, they wake with their habit. But then Beatrice shifts imperceptibly closer to the warm body beside her and drifts back into a half-sleep. And so does Ava.

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being self aware suuuucks like yeah this thought pattern/behavior is stupid and pointless and a symptom. i know this. [does it anyways

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chapter 12 - isaiah 53:5

“You think this is easy for me?” she says. “I didn’t ask to have a fucking monster attack me and kill my best friend. I didn’t ask to be the stupid cure, Beatrice. I don’t get a choice in this. I just - “ she falters, her voice quivering. “I am doing the best that I can, okay? But I just wanted one night where I got to make my own choice.”

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thinking about leatin again. thinking about a “The Flatshare” AU for them. oh no how did this document get opened why am i typing

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i want to get a master's degree i want to take a cake decorating class i want to dance i want to sing i want to write and remember how to think i want to swim i want to be free

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everything feels one room over

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chap 11 ft sam & henry :(

She kisses Ava like she’s starving, like she hasn’t taken a breath in years and Ava is air. Desperate and rushed and messy, Ava winding her fingers into Beatrice’s hair and teasing loose the neat little bun at the base of her skull so her hair spills free.

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worrying is like worshipping the problem

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when the blind man shows frankenstein’s creature the pleasures of life he shows him cigarette and music. notice how he doesn’t show him linkedin and email

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hey sorry i can't come to that thing on saturday. yeah im being executed on friday. yeah it's because i made a joke but it came off as way meaner than i expected. if you want we could grab coffee thursday though. huh? oh a million billion explosions. yeah seemed a little much to me too but whatever.

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I could have lived in peace (stayed warm in my bed) but my enemies (job that pays my bills) brought me war (e-mails i have to respond to)