#But this playfulness between Ava and Beatrice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

words-put-together · 2 years ago

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Again - Avatrice training AU

[Beatrice is tasked with pushing Ava to her limits and test how she manages her emotions. Ava can barely manage her emotions.]

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“Again.” Beatrice’s voice echoed through the empty training hall.

“Beatrice…” Ava all but begged, one hand in her knees to keep her steady as she panted, while she ran the other through her sweaty forehead.

“Again.” Beatrice repeated, and though Ava kept telling herself that it was her job, she couldn’t help but be annoyed.

It had been two hours since training was over and, to no one’s surprise, everyone but Ava was dismissed. Two hours where Beatrice had her perform the same exact series of moves on her.

It was like a slow, but painfully demanding dance: Ava would use the training stick to strike Beatrice’s left side, then a kick to her right, both promptly blocked by Beatrice in the same rehearsed, effortless way. Then, Ava would get a blow to Beatrice’s left leg that didn’t even seem to tickle her, using the momentum to position herself behind Beatrice and jam the stick between her legs, pushing her down to the floor.

“Bea-” she tried again, going for a more playful tone this time.

“Again.” Beatrice repeated, throwing the training stick at Ava, who barely managed to catch it before it hit her straight in the face.

So she did.

Before Beatrice had time to set herself into her perfect defensive stance, Ava attacked, putting all of her remaining energy into every move, hoping it was enough to convince Beatrice that she had mastered it.

Beatrice fell with a thud into the mat, as she had for the past couple of hours. Still, despite being the one getting the short end in this training session, —her right leg aching so much after an hour that she had to ask Ava to go for her left— she stood up and nodded.

“Again.”

“You can’t be serious.” Ava said, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “We’ve been at it for over two hours.” Beatrice only arched an eyebrow in response, as if to challenge her. “It’s was perfect, what more do I need to do?”

Ava used this time to stretch around her aching limbs, aware of how useless this back and forth would be, yet still holding onto the hope that Beatrice was as exhausted as has was.

“You are not to decide if it’s perfect or not.” Beatrice retorted, sounding a lot harsher than she intended to.

“So what? We stay here until you get tired? Until you decide it’s over?” Ava took a step towards her, hitting the stick against the mat as she spoke.

“Again.” Was all Beatrice said in response, yet it was enough to spark something in Ava that she rarely felt towards her.

“Again.” Beatrice repeated, even after Ava had landed a particularly hard blow to her leg.

As soon as Beatrice was on her feet, Ava attacked again without warning, giving her little time to recover. Still, Beatrice managed to block everything she was supposed to, and even avoid falling at the end. This only prompted Ava to attack her again, harder yet more sloppy, just as Superion had predicted.

Another half hour passed, with Ava’s attacks becoming weaker and messier, to the point she even failed to land a couple of blows despite the hours of practice and Beatrice’s willingness to take them.

“Fuck!” Ava threw the stick across the room, the Halo on her back glowing brightly through her shirt and making the other props in the room shake.

“Again.” Beatrice’s voice now sounded foreign to both of them, like a mantra neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

“Beatrice!” Ava inched closer to her, glaring down at her instructor despite the height difference in Bea’s favor. She noticed Beatrice’s hair was still perfectly tucked into its bun and she somehow didn’t have a trace of sweat, contrasting heavily against her own messy hair sticking to her forehead, drops of sweat trickling down her jaw.

“Again.”

Ava pushed her back and swung at her, despite not having the training stick. She tried for her left side, then the right side, then a kick to her leg, a punch to her stomach and another kick to her side, but they were all swiftly blocked by Beatrice, though not without effort. Of course, this did nothing to appease Ava’s rage, if anything, it only made it worse.

Beatrice was fully aware that Ava had reached her limit, that she was doing nothing but make it worse, but that was exactly what Superion had asked of her and, despite how much it pained her to see the anger in Ava’s eyes directed at her, she decided to push her just a little further.

“Are you done?” She said once Ava step back, panting loudly.

“Are you done?” Ava challenged. Beatrice walked off the mat and, for a second, Ava thought she’d done it: she beat Beatrice at whatever game she was playing. Her satisfaction disappeared, however, as soon as Beatrice turned around, training stick in her hand.

“Again.” She threw the stick at Ava, but instead of catching it she dodged.

“No.”

“Again, Ava.”

“No!” Ava yelled, and the ground beneath them quaked, strong enough to make it hard for them to keep their balance.

Beatrice’s flinch was almost imperceptible, had it not been for how Ava’s eyes never seemed to leave her.

“No,” she repeated, softer this time. “I don’t know what you expect to get from this, but I’m done.” Ava finalized, already heading for the door.

“So you’re just giving up?” Though Beatrice’s voice was stern and challenging, Ava could feel her waver, feel the slight hesitation, maybe fear, in her words, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Ava turned around, hurt flashing through her eyes long enough to make Beatrice feel like crumbling down on the spot.

Was this what Superion wanted?, to have Ava despise her? To have her loose the one person she could rely on?

“Ava!” Beatrice called, grabbing her arm before she could leave. “I get that you’re upset b-“

“I’m not upset, Beatrice.” Ava replied, shaking her hand off her arm. “I’m fucking tired.“ she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Please, can’t we just call it a day?” She pleaded softly, getting an understanding look from Beatrice.

“No.”

“What?”

“No.” Beatrice repeated, sounding as exhausted as Ava. “I’m sorry, Ava, but we have keep going. I have to see you through this.” She added the last bit after a beat of silence, mostly for herself to hear.

“Through what?” Ava laughed in disbelief. “It’s just one stupid fighting move, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“No, but you can try.” Beatrice retorted, regretting her words as soon as they left her.

“You think I’m not trying? “ Ava’s eyes filled with with angry tears, the entire building shaking with each step she took towards Beatrice. “You think this is easy?“

The light coming from Ava’s back became more intense, her entire body shaking with what Beatrice couldn’t decide was pain or anger. Ava’s fists we’re clenched tightly to her sides, her eyes shut as she took a couple of deep breaths before opening them again.

“You’re holding back.” Beatrice stated, her eyes shining with a glint of admiration.

“Of course I’m holding back!” She took a step towards Beatrice, but took three steps back as she felt the heat in her back intensify. “All you care about is technique, there’s no need to use all my strength to body slam-“

“No, I mean-.” Beatrice interrupted, but cut herself short as the words of mother Superion echoed in her head. “You’re right, let’s call it a day.” She conceded, deciding that giving up for the day was better than cracking under the stare of Ava’s eyes and ruining Superion’s training plans.

She took a deep breath, ignoring how Ava’s eyes followed her around the room as she collected her stuff to leave.

“What we’re you going to say?” Ava questioned just as Beatrice walked pass her.

“Nothing.”

“Beatrice.” it was now Ava who took a hold of Beatrice’s arm, her tight grip stopping her just before she could cross the door.

“Do you want this to be over or not?” Beatrice stared back at her, a silent threat hidden in her words.

“I want you to tell me what this is!“ Ava gestured around the room in exasperation.

“I- “ Beatrice looked away, but not before Ava could catch the hint of sadness in her eyes. “I can’t.” She finalized, Ava’s grip loosening as a sign of defeat.

###

[this scenario could perfectly fit into warrior nun itself but I might use it for a fic. I don’t know what fic tho.]

[part 2]

#I have too many ideas I’m just gonna dump them all here.#no context snippet #avatrice au #avatrice #ava x beatrice #save warrior nun #ava silva #warrior nun #sister beatrice #wlw #alba baptista #kristina tonteri young #writing

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noteveryoneis · 2 years ago

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Avatrice as Hogwarts teacher

This is not about my fic, and I desperatly need sleep before my exam tomorrow but I just spent the last five hours writing this so enjoy

Hogwarts is Heaven's Place on Earth, witches and wizards say, thinking dreamily about their younger years and how the world was just on the palm of their hands.

Their children would snicker, looking at each other with playfulness in their eyes and irony sitting on their lips. Because, yes, Hogwarts still is and will always be the best place on Earth, but someone has made it their life goal to be the embodiement of mischief.

That certain someone is Hogwarts' Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ava Silva. For someone who is known to have battled the darkest wizards and witches in America before even reaching the age of twenty, Professor Silva has way too much joy and energy, and even a bunch of pubescent teenagers cannot keep up with her. Her ecstasy would bubble up and rise with every passing second, a devouring smile plastered on her face, short hair bouncing around her head, before exploding with a loud 'Bang!', leaving everyone fighting for cover in her wake. Sure, Professor Silva is chaotic and messy and disorganized, but she is also kind and tooth-rottingly sweet and so good at her job her student would probably all pass their Auror's entrance exam with flying colors.

What makes her so popular is also the playful (on her part) rivalry she entertains with their Charms Professor, Beatrice Young.

Professor Young's default setting is solemnity, never having a single hair out of place, shirt buttoned all the way up and hands folded behind her back. She is known for her rigor, her commitment and her profound disdain for her colleague Professor Silva. But Professor Young has also shown a certain sense of devotion to her students, and she is probably one of the most supportive teacher there is in the world. She believes in them, every single one of them, with undeniable faith and the most sincere certainty that drive her students to give the best version of themselves to the world, in and out of her classroom.

But beside the love they have for both teachers (and the rest of their teachers, in fact) Hogwarts' students absolutely adore every single interaction they can witness between the two professors.

At least once every couple of days, Professor Silva's door would swing open after a very loud explosion probably caused by her chaotic way of teaching, and Professor Young would be standing in the doorway, absolutely fuming with rage, jaw clenched and her hand gripping her wand so hard they were afraid it was going to snap in half.

"Once again," she would say, voice sharp and dripping with disdain, "you have found a way to disturb my teaching, Professor Silva."

Yes, because Headmistress Superion had had the brilliant idea to put their classrooms on either sides of a hallway, and there was no way they can't hear each other — especially when Professor Silva is that dedicated to give Headmistress Superion gray hair.

But Professor Silva is always unphased by her keen tone, flashing one of her sunny-kissed smile at her colleague.

"Come on, Bea," she would respond, bouncing on her toes. "Just take a seat, if you're so eager to see what we're doing."

Professor Young would never take a seat.

"Don't call me that."

Professor Silva would never stop.

And Professor Young would storm out, mumbling angry rants under her breath, and Professor Silva would wink at her students, continuing with her lesson and making a point of being the loudest person around.

Some people believe they are competing for the 'Best Teacher' title, which doesn't even exist (officially), some think they simply have different beliefs and views.

Some cheeky students whisper that perhaps Professor Silva has the hots for Professor Young (they know she is attracted to women, if the dozen conflicting pride flags in her pencil jar is anything to believe) and that this is just some weird flirting.

But they know it's impossible, because Professor Silva is very happy and in love, thank you very much. A simple golden band sits on her ring finger, and she sometimes like to slip little words about her wife when everyone leaves for holiday.

She's going to visit Castelbruxo, the brazillian school of witchcraft and wizardry, where she is from, with her beloved wife during spring break (she promises them Hogwarts is the best, but makes them swear not to tell anyone she ever said that because her wife can't know — nobody has the heart to tell her they don't know her wife either). She gives them a paper exam right before Christmas break, telling them she needs a reason not to visit her in-laws, and they laugh and ask if her wife is okay with that and she scoffs, 'Of course she is, who do you think came up with those questions?' (the test is so simple and they have such good grades that Professor Silva is called into Headmistress Superion's office who suspects they are cheating — they're not). She tells them, sitting cross-legged on her desk and pouting like a fretful child, that her wife forbid her to ever adopt a dragon, and they all send quiet thank you to her wife because they don't think they could handle a fire breathing version of Professor Silva (however, she lets her adopt a Bowtruck that sits happily on her shoulder one day, its arm wrapped into a strand of her hair — 'His name is Halo,' Professor Silva says, buzzing with happiness and excitement. 'My wife says it's a fitting name and now I'm trying to find a way to marry her again.') One day she comes into class red-eyed and with a running nose and they're all ready to go to war to whoever made her this sad until she tells them that she lost her wife's favorite scarf and dramatically plops on her chair repeating that she is a failure and a disgrace to womankind (they all breath in relief and tell her to buy her a new one and just spray her perfume on it when she argues it won't smell like her anymore — she comes back the next morning with rosy cheeks and a bright smile on her lips, wrapped in a sweater that is definitely not hers, and gives them the funniest class ever as a thank you).

Their conclusion is that Professor Young must have given her the impression that she was annoyed by her when she started teaching at Hogwarts — Nobody remembers when it was, Professor Silva just spawned on a random day and they don't remember ever having to watch her introduce herself to anyone — and Professor Silva saw it as a challenge.

And Merlin does she seem to love to provoke her.

She runs into the hall discheveled and covered in dirt after an eventful encounter with a Thestral (it's not a surprise that she sees them, Professor Silva has made the news in America at the age of thirteen for fighting Dark Wizards, they checked the library) , and collides with Professor Young, sending all of her books flying on the ground. She immediately apologizes profusely, picking up her books and papers and shoving them back into her hands before running away once again, living muddy footprints behind her and a sticky piece of meat into Professor Young's hand. It takes all of Professor Young's willpower not to chug it back at her running figure, and she simply straightens, grasps her books with a firm hand and crosses the expanse of grass towards the Forbidden Forest to give the meat back to the Thestral that is waiting for it at the edge of the woods (Professor Young also sees Thestral, but nobody knows who died in front of her and nobody dares to ask).

She makes a show of kicking down the Great Hall's door the time that Professor Young is having a bad day, barging into the room and yelling out 'To freedom!' before releasing a bunch of tiny birds that fly out into the fake ceiling, as she laughs maniacally. Professor Young buries her face in her hands, eyes closed, as Professor Lilith Villaumbrosia rolls her eyes, Professor Camila Delcán lets her jaw fall to the ground and Professor Michael Salvius absolutely bursts out laughing, like he always do whenever Professor Silva does something crazy. Professor Silva looks down at her shoes and doesn't answer when Headmistress Superion reprimands her publicly, and they catch the tiniest of smirks on Professor Young's lips as she lowers her hands, apparently pleased to see her rival finally being scolded for her behavior.

She sneaks up into the late evening class that Professor Young teaches, Ancient Runes, sitting at the back with her feet propped up on the table. Most of the time, Professor Young sees her immediately, and points sternly to the door. 'Get out,' she says, and Professor Silva skips happily to the door, sometime spinning on herself before exiting and yelling out 'Be good for boo-boo, kids!', and Professor Young slams the door in her face and they hear her giggle down the hall. But sometimes, Professor Young's wishful thinking makes her not-see that Professor Silva is here, or perhaps she chooses to ignore it. Professor Silva then makes a challenge of raising her hand in the middle of the class and asking the most out-of-pocket questions ('Would you rather be a Thunderbird with no wings or a Demiguise that can't disappear?', 'Do you think I could have taken Lestrange in a fight?', 'Would you love me if I was a worm?'). Every single question is met with a wand pointed at the door, and a stern 'Get out' and Professor Silva always does, always obeys and leaves.

But on the one time Professor Young doesn't see her rival, and Professor Silva doesn't try to tease her, they see another side of the whole banter. Professor Silva falls asleep with her arms crossed on the table, nose scunched into her elbow, and Professor Young doesn't say anything, doesn't awknowledge it, just takes off her tweed jacket and wraps it around her colleague's shoulders, not even stopping in her lesson. Professor Silva sleeps until the end of the class, and the students linger in the doorway, watching as Professor Young goes up to her table, and (softly) slams her hands on the table. Professor Silva wakes up with a start, looking around with wild eyes and messy hair, as Professor Young giggles — giggles! —, looking mockingly at her colleague.

'It seems like you fell asleep, Professor Silva.'

Professor Silva just buries her face back in her arms, giving her the middle finger, and Professor Young ushers them out when she realizes they're still here.

That's the weird side of the whole thing. Because their banter and teasing and yelling match in the Great Hall is being challenged by other things they do.

Like that one time Halo falls from Professor Silva's shoulder and she all but flings herself out of the window to catch him, gripping the edge at the last second. It's the first year that she's teaching at that moment and they all start yelling and screaming and try to pull her up but they're just eleven year old with scrawny bodies and even thiner arms. The door bursts open, slamming on the wall behind it, and Professor Young makes her way throug the students, iron hands on their shoulders to push them away. How she even know where Professor Silva is is beyond them, but she leans over the opening, letting the edge bury itself into her stomach, grips Professor Silva's wrists and pulls her up, twisting her fingers in the fabric of her jacket, of her belt, not even wasting a second to mock her. Professor Silva falls to the ground, panting, and Professor Young kneels next to her, putting her hands on her shoulder and looking at her in the eyes. 'Are you okay?' She asks. Professor Silva nods, and that's when the yelling begins. Professor Young doesn't even seem to notice that her students have left her classroom and are now calming the first years down, rumors and whispers swirling into the room. Professor Silva doesn't listen, she pats herself until a whistle answer her, and Halo emerges from one of her pockets. 'He flew out of the window,' Professor Silva explains, and Professor Young stays quiet for a few moments. 'So what,' she says, 'If Halo jumped off a bridge, would you follow him?!'. She grumbles and groans and Professor Silva doesn't answer, quiet for once, and the students look at each other with surprise, because not only does Professor Young know the Bowtruck's name, she uses it like she's done it before.

There is also the time where, for once, it's Professor Young's door that swings open, but it's a man that enters. He has Professor Young's eyes and her freckles and he immediately starts yelling and Professor Young just looks at him, quiet, rendered speechless by shock. All Hell breaks loose when Professor Silva runs from her own classroom and jumps into Professor Young's and all but tackles the man to the ground. That's when everyone starts screaming, the students rise and panic, Professor Young orders for them to leave in between frantic 'Ava!' as Professor Silva grabs the man by the collar and hits and Professor Young slams the door behind them. They know they should leave and not stay in front of the door, but everyone wants to be ready to fight too, if needed. Headmistress Superion makes her way down the corridor, all of the teacher arguing behind her (Professor Villaumbrosia yells things like 'I'm going to kill that bastard!' and Professor Salvius tries to reason with her as Professor Delcán cheers her on and Mary — Hogwarts gamekeeper whose real name has been lost in time — is being physically held back by her wife, Professor Shannon Master, as Professor Amulet asks how he even got in). When they open the door, the man is already gone, and Professor Silva sits on Professor Young's desk, swinging her legs as she's performing healing charms on her. Professor Young looks annoyed, mad and tired, but Professor Silva seems calmer, sweeter and also a little bit insane, like she's planning a murder in her head. (Rumours would later reveal that that man is Professor Young's brother, who works at the Ministry of Magic at a very high position and they all promise each other to make his life a living Hell, if they ever were to work in the same department as him.)

There is also that one time when Professor Silva takes them into the Forbidden Forest to practice some ground training and they get attacked by an acromantula. They all make it out without a scratch, except for Professor Silva, who throws herself straight into danger to make sure that none of them will even be touched by a single thing. She promises that she's okay, but she still needs to lean on Diego to walk, the boy letting her put an arm around his shoulder and almost carrying her out. When they make it out of the woods, Professor Young is running towards them, wand gripped between her fingers, some strands of hair flying around her face as she crosses the expance of grass. They don't even know how she knew where they were or that they had gotten attacked, but it doesn't matter as she screams 'Ava!', voice breaking and tearing the air around as soon as she realizes who Diego is carrying. Professor Silva straightens up, she lets go of Diego right as Professor Young catches her in her arms, panicked, terrified. Professor Silva keeps saying that she's okay, but Professor Young doesn't let her out of the infirmary for three days (they sneak her chocolate and 'get-well' cards and ask if her wife is going to be okay without her — Professor Silva laughs so hard her ribs hurt and Professor Young enters the room and yells at them for being here).

They learn about Professor Young's family one fateful Thursday morning, when she enters the room smelling faintly of smoke and with bags under her eyes, a single strand of hair escaping of her bun and framing her face. She's wearing the sweater of a Quidditch team with a curupira for a mascot that they all know is not hers (She might be the smartest person in this school, but the woman doesn't know shit about Quidditch, no matter how much good will she put into learning). She starts the lesson just like she usually does, and if their silence weirds her out, she doesn't awknowledge it. It's Rose Granger that takes one for the team and shyly raises her hand. 'Yes, Miss Granger?' Professor Young asks. 'I'm sorry if it's innapropriate, professor, but are you okay?'. They're all hanging to her lips, and she looks around, wondering if dismissing the question would really bring her peace.

She sighs, rubs the bridge of her nose.

"My wife tried to set the kitchen on fire last night."

She freezes as soon as the words have left her mouth, suddenly blanching and looking up at them, wild panic in her eyes and her chest still, as if she has stopped breathing. Nobody says a word, until...

"Did she do it on purpose?" Diego asks, raising his hand but not waiting for her solicitation.

Professor Young looks around, chest still unmoving.

"I... Don't think so. She's... A really bad cook."

They all laugh at that, and Professor Young grips her wand like she's about to bolt out the door.

"You should introduce her to Professor Silva," Rose suggests.

"Are you crazy?!" Lorcan Scamander says, eyes wide with fear. "They would burn Hogwarts to the ground!"

Everyone laughs even harder, and even Professor Young laughs a little, bringing a shaky hand to her mouth as if trying to retain her smile. But she's breathing again and colors have made their way back onto her face and she sits down at her desk because she looks like she cannot stand on her wobbly legs, but nobody says a word.

"That would be a really bad idea," she says, before continuing with her lesson.

Of course, they are children, they don't let their teacher off the hook that easily.

They eat up every single information they can get on Professor Young's wife, even if she doesn't say much. They know that she likes Quidditch and she has a tendency to spill things on Professor Young's clothes. They know she's trying to bully her into getting a Niffler and that she wants to use said Niffler to wreak havoc into her brother's office, like Professor Young says it relutanctly, it seems, looking away from them as if she's too scared to see their reaction .

How Professor Young could even live with someone that chaotic is a mystery, a miracle. She can barely survive when Professor Silva drops a muddy pair of gloves on her spotless desk, how can she live through someone going through her closet and stealing every single one of her clothes? But Professor Young loves her wife, they see it in the glimmer in her eyes when she talks about her, how she shyly tucks her non-existent loose strand of hair back, blushing slightly like a schoolgirl and then squinting suspiciously at them when she realizes they managed to lose five minutes of their lessons getting her to talk about her wife.

Professor Young's admission is like a fire being lit up; suddenly, some students who were once too scared to admit who they are, to show who they really are are getting the courage to do so and only receive kindness as an answer. The Slytherins hold a 'gender reveal' party for a boy that just came out, Hufflepuffs start a business of colorful flags and pins, Ravenclaw gather money to buy a transgender girl her fist skirt and Gryffindors start taping little notes of encouragement on the walls. An ungoing jokes runs around the castle, and everyone is wondering who will be the next to come out or to start dating someone. Professor Salvius blurts out that he's dating Hogsmead's bartender when they tease him, and it takes them a few seconds to realize Hans is definitely not a girl's name, Professor Amunet lets out a gay joke in the middle of the class and then tries desperately to get them to quiet down as if she is going to get in trouble, Professor Delcán says that she doesn't have a preference for any gender when asked like it's the most natural thing in the world. Mary flips them off when they tease her for being completely smitten with her wife, earning herself a slap on the back of the head from said wife, yelling at them that they are just jealous because her wife is hot and they can't yell back because Professor Matters is undeniably pretty.

They know the world has changed when they see a little rainbow flag hidden in the corner of Professor Young's blackboard.

And when Professor Villaumbrosia catches them talking about sending a 'mockery pride flag' to Professor Young's brother, she doesn't report them. She just gives them his address.

Professor Silva keeps working her magical chaos until she comes in one day tired and nervous and disheveled like she slept in her clothes.

Usually that means that she has convinced her wife to do something crazy and unhinged like suddenly decide to 'run away together' ('When life gets too hard, you gotta know when to take a break,' she had said wisely when explaining that ritual 'The first time I asked her to run away, she refused, and both of us regretted it very deeply after that.'). Usually they would pack a few clothes and pretend to never be coming back, just for a few hours, and go wherever they wanted (the mountains in Switzerland, the beach in Spain, a lake in France or some remote village in Portugal). They would always come back, once the world seemed brighter and lighter, and Professor Silva would always be much more calm (which helped Professor Young too, apparently, because then she didn't have to yell at her to stop blowing things up) ( there was also the scandalous rumor that Professor Silva would also be 'getting laid' during those days, but hey, they were teenagers, rumous were their best form of entertainement.)

But that day, she comes in barely human, looking like she just crawled out of an Occamy's nest, and they all know that something is deeply and profoundly wrong.

"My wife is sick," she admits after looking at the bare board for five minutes without finding the chalk in her hand. "I had to fight her to stay at home today."

They all know she would rather be with her today, and so they do what kids do best: they make stupid decisions. She only teaches Gryffindor that day, and so they all gather around and use a Wealsey's Skiving Snackbox and soon they are swarming the infirmary with fake illnesses. Headmistress Superion herself comes down to see what's going on, and sighs deeply.

"It seems like there is a flu going around here," she says. "Truly tragic. It looks like you won't have any students attending your classes today," she tells Professor Silva who looks like she doesn't know whether or not to panic or thank them.

She runs back to her mysterious wife and Headmistress Superion looks away when they all start getting better fifteen minutes after she left.

Professor Young too, seems to be getting down with the flu. But she's not here for them to tell her it's a fake illness.

The secret is broken during an uneventful summer, as Diego is being dragged by his dads to a bar in Hogsmead. He whines and says there is no way he's getting any closer than sixty-thousand feet to school during summer break, but his fathers don't falter.

And that's how he ends up sitting in front of a Butterbeer (which is not really that bad) in the middle of a bar, with his parents talking to some of their friends as he sulks in a corner (later, he'll wonder why he was even mad at all, there weren't any bad side to that adventure).

He's gulping down the content of his glass when something catches his eyes and he can't look away.

It's Professor Young, sitting at a table with her hands folded onto her lap. She's wearing a short-sleeved button-down and her hair is down and she looks younger, softer and lighter, like every worry that was once crinckling her brow has melted away, only leaving a young woman trying to enjoy her life. She doesn't seem out of place, because Professor Young is never out of place, but it feels strange to think of her as Professor Young, like the title is a coat she sheds off when going home. She's playing pensively with the alliance around her finger, lost in her own thoughts.

Diego is thinking about whether he really values his own life before going up and saying hi, when the world breaks.

Because a woman plops down next to her, so close she's almost onto her lap, putting two glasses onto the table and Professor Young smiles and laughs as she catches the drinks and makes sure they don't spill. She wraps her arm around Professor Young's shoulder and throws her head back and laugh, short hair bouncing around her head, and Professor Young looks at her, looks at her like she's the only thing in the world, like she's a fire and Professor Young is a salamander reaching for warmth.

And Diego knows he sould stop staring, knows he should look away, but he can't, mouth hanging open.

Because, halfway on Professor Young's lap, losing her own cardigan and rambling like she's reciting a goddamn novel is Professor Silva. Professor Silva and her clumsiness, Professor Silva and her ability to set things on fire, Professor Silva who knows exactly which buttons to push and how to get away with it.

Curupiras are the brazilian Quidditch team's mascot, and Diego cannot believe how stupid teenagers are. Because all this time, the answer was right in front of their noses.

And as he watches the way they look at each other, he realizes that this is perfect just the way it is. Perhaps they don't want all of their students to know. Perhaps they're just playing their own tricks on them.

It doesn't matter. Diego is happy, and his heart swells in his chest and he feels like he can take on the world.

He doesn't know who sees him first, Professor Young or Professor Silva, but suddenly they're looking at him, surprised to see him there. Professor Young blushes and buries her face into Professor Silva's shoulder, who laughs and raises her arm to wave at him, nearly knocking their drinks that Professor Young catches without even looking, like she has built muscle memory around her wife's clumsiness.

He raises a finger to his lips, he won't tell a soul, and Professor Silva smiles as she wraps her arms around her wife, and sends him a knowing wink.

Professor Silva keeps disrupting Professor Young's classes, and her wife loves her for it.

("Good luck," Diego would tell his little sister years later, watching from the corner of his eyes as two women with matching alliance would try to convince a child to get into the train and not into the baggage wagon. He wouldn't even try to explain himself as his little sister would look at him like he had lost his damn mind. "And tell Professor Silva to go easy on her wife this year. I don't think we can all survive the three of them in the same school.")

#avatrice #ava x beatrice #warrior nun #ava silva #sister beatrice #harry potter au #hogwarts au #renew warrior nun #avatrice as hogwarts teacher

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itsnunoclock · 11 months ago

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santa baby, honey, cutie (chapter 1/2)

Beatrice had accepted the dare to go to a private room in the club and receive a lap dance from a stranger. She didn’t know that her friends had a different plan for her. They decided that whoever the bottle landed on next would be the one to perform the lap dance for Beatrice. The bottle stopped spinning and pointed to Ava, the one person Beatrice had been avoiding to admit her attraction to.

note: a month ago, an idea blossomed, and i just had to get it out there! it's my first foray into longer narratives and english is not my first language so pls try to enjoy :] ao3 link

Chapter 1: i've been denying how i feel (you've been denying what you want)

The cranberry cosmo was a sticky, syrupy mess in Beatrice’s hand. The ice cubes had long since melted, diluting the once potent drink to a sugary slush. Around her, the strobing disco ball cast a fragmented kaleidoscope of colours across the room, highlighting the sweat-slicked faces and pulsating bodies on the dance floor. The air hung heavy with the stale scent of spilled drinks and cheap perfume, a far cry from the “unbridled holiday cheer” advertised by the club’s flyers.

This “jingle mingle” night out, as Camila had christened it, was supposed to be a pre-holiday escape from the year’s relentless pressure cooker. Beatrice, however, preferred the sanctuary of her own apartment to the sensory overload of nightclubs. Thankfully, Ava’s connection to the owner had secured them a secluded cosy booth, tucked away from the dance floor and the glare of the club.

The group of friends occupied a plush black leather couch that gracefully curved around a round table. Empty cocktail glasses, some still adorned with colourful straws and umbrellas, were scattered across the tabletop, their rims glistening with condensation. Discarded napkins, bearing traces of lipstick or sauce, were crumpled against a half-eaten plate of appetisers, predominantly nachos and chicken wings.

The faint thump of music, emanating from the DJ’s booth, lingered in the air. A remix of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Party for One” played, its beats creating a subtle backdrop to the group’s animated conversations.

“Teleportation,” Lilith declared, her voice cutting through the din, “Obviously.” The question had been Camila’s: teleport anywhere or read minds? While Beatrice found the ability to vanish appealing, particularly in such a confined space, she held her tongue.

Next to Lilith, Mary let out a scoff. “Teleportation? Seriously? Mind-reading would be way cooler.”

Camila, nodded vigorously beside Beatrice, a mischievous glint in her eye. “ And you’d always know what people were thinking!”

Caught between Mary and Camila, Lilith raised an eyebrow and turned her head, shooting a piercing look to either side. “And you two think that’s a blessing? I don’t need the burden of knowing everyone’s thoughts.”

Ignorance is bliss , Beatrice thought while finding herself nodding, a silent agreement forming between them. “Especially Mary’s,” Lilith added, a playful smirk flickering on her lips. Mary swatted her arm playfully, the tension easing.

“Think about it, Lil,” Ava interjected, leaning across the table, her voice a low drawl. “With mind-reading, you could navigate any social situation, close any deal, and always be two steps ahead. Untouchable.” Ava’s eyes sparkling with a different kind of energy.

Beatrice doubted Ava (or any of her friends for that matter) needed telepathy for such feats. As Ava once described herself, she was a “charge in first, ask questions later” kind of girl. Bold, smart, and undeniably attractive. Beatrice caught herself chuckling at the last thought, quickly shaking her head to dismiss it.

Her laughter drew the group’s attention. “Something you want to share with the rest of us, Bea?” Camila grinned mischievously, nudging her arm playfully.

Beatrice’s cheeks flushed. “Uh... not really.” She forced a smile, hoping to redirect the conversation away from her unbidden thoughts about Ava.

“Oh!” Ava slightly jumped from her seat and tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Why don’t we ask the boss?” Her voice held a playful tease, the use of the nickname sending a tingle down Beatrice’s spine. Back when Ava was a bartender, Beatrice had been Ava’s manager, and the nickname ‘boss’ had become a playful reminder of that time.

Beatrice cleared her throat, momentarily flustered. “Me?”

“Teleportation or mind-reading?” Camila prodded, eager for an answer.

“Well,” Beatrice began, hesitant. She wished Camila hadn’t brought up the question. It had ignited a spirited debate that seemed to consume everyone’s attention.

It was also Camila who had originally proposed the game of truth or dare. While others seemed to relish the risk and uncertainty, Beatrice found it unnerving. It brought back memories of a younger, more vulnerable version of herself, a closeted kid who felt constantly on the edge. The thought of revealing secrets or participating in potentially embarrassing dares sent a wave of anxiety through her.

Thankfully, they were no longer those awkward teenagers. She wished all questions could be as straightforward as this one, offering a chance for genuine reflection rather than forced confessions. Questions that made her think, that challenged her perspective, that didn’t require her to expose any part of herself she wasn’t ready to share.

Beatrice contemplated the question, a furrow forming between her brows. “Well, telepathy is undeniably powerful,” she conceded, “but the thought of it feels...overwhelming. Imagine the constant barrage of everyone’s thoughts, the invasion of privacy, the potential manipulation.” She shuddered at the image. “With gas prices and traffic the way they are, teleportation would be a dream come true. Imagine being anywhere in the world in an instant, without the hassle of airports or traffic jams.” She spoke with conviction, her voice rising in excitement.

Mary responded with a playful eye roll, while Camila and Ava exchanged snickers. Lilith, however, raised her glass in a silent toast. “Exactly,” she declared, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Beatrice grinned, catching Lilith’s eye. “And besides, Lilith,” she added playfully, “aren’t you always fashionably late? Teleportation would save you some excuses.”

A wave of laughter washed over the table, momentarily drowning out the music’s pulsing rhythm. Lilith choked on her drink, sputtering indignantly. “Shut up, Beatrice,” she hissed, followed by her laughter blending with the others’.

As they delved into another round of truth or dare, Beatrice pushed her cocktail aside, opting for a fiery shot of tequila. It burned a satisfying path down her throat, a stark contrast to the sugary sweetness of the cosmo.

Truth or dare, they’d called it. A harmless game.

Or so she’d thought.

cont on ao3

#avatrice #avatrice fanfic #avatrice au #warrior nun #warrior nun fanfiction #short fic!#sorry to disappoint but i haven't written the lap dance scene yet :P #pls ignore any spelling or spacing errors

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letters-from-an-introvert · 2 years ago

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Dreams

-You… Stop showing in my dreams.- Ava sat beside her bed like every other night. Kind eyes and a relaxed face. Beatrice closed her eyes, hoping the girl would disappear just as she had appeared. -I'm sorry.- The answer came; she opened her eyes and surrendered. -You always say that, but you're not. -I'm not?- The other girl said with a playful smile that made her happy in the past but now only irritated her. -If you were, you would stop showing. -I can't.- The answer came with a sad smile. -What do you mean? Can't you choose if you appear in someone else's dreams?- Ava sighed before answering. -I only appear 'cause you want me to. I'm afraid that if you want me to stop showing up in your dreams, you must stop looking for me. -I'm not looking for you. I have traveled to the end of the world trying to escape, but you are always there wherever I go. -Then don't escape from me. -I don't want these feelings in my chest. I can't take them anymore.- Beatrice started to cry but didn't notice until she felt Ava's hand caressing her cheek. -You're not running from me. You're running from your grief. But you need to embrace it, Bea. Only then the heaviness in your heart will start to lighten. -I won't. I can't. -Why?- Ava asked with a sad tone in her voice. -If I do, it will mean that you're gone, that you are… I can't accept that. I don't want to be without you. -I'm right here with you.- Ava answered immediately, taking Beatrice's hand between hers as if trying to prove her point. -When I wake up, you won't be here. -Just 'cause you can't see me, it doesn't mean I'm not there. -Promise? -Promise.- Ava kissed her temple -Now get back to sleep; you must rest." -Will you be here tomorrow night? -For as long as you want me to.

----

In which Beatrice can't cope with her grief after letting Ava go, and she keeps appearing in Bea's dreams.

#writting #writers on tumblr #avatrice #ava x sister beatrice #warrior nun #save warrior nun #writterscommunity #ava silva #sister beatrice

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thecousinsdangereux · 2 years ago

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This is not really a song lyric share for avatrice (although the song does connect in general sense) but, you should check out the music video for Honne’s Warm on a Cold Night. It makes me think of a sparring session between a & b. They dance in such a playful and tender manner plus 1 of them is smoll

you had me at sparring session..... but YEAH it's the tenderness it's the playfulness! I do think a lot about their trainings and how it's definitely a dance of sorts, that Beatrice is leading. And I also think a lot about Ava saying Beatrice could teach her how to dance (in the run away with me scene) because like WHAT DO YOU MEANNNN?? What do you MEAN she could teach you how to dance? I'm so sick every time this scene comes back to me because like. GOD the longing. It's INSANE what happens to her voice and in her eyes in that moment.

ANYWAY here's the link to the video anon mentioned, which is very cute <3

#wn ask #ugh

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aggressivelyaverage21 · 2 years ago

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Chapter 2:

Zephaniah 3:3 the princes within her are roaring lions; her judges are wolves of the night which leave nothing for morning

Ava slides the door back and exits the van, allowing Kiva to jump out just ahead of her. The Duchie sits at the edge of the van with the halo barer, both waiting for Beatrice. The halo-barer extends a hand with a playful bow, “M’ lady,” to ‘help’ the sister warrior the foot and a half down from the OCS van.

“Yes. Yes. Very Cheeky.” She rolls her eyes and moves to actually get out of the van, but when Ava sticks her lower lip out, Beatrice has no choice but to indulge her. It’s too cute, and Ava could give Kiva a run for his money with the whole puppy dog eyes thing. Beatrice’s heart particularly melts when Ava looks up at her through those long eyelashes and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

Camilla, coughing softly from where she’s stuck waiting in the van behind them, calls Beatrice from the little moment. There’s a warmth at the tips of Beatrice’s ears at the admonishment, she is right, but the embarrassment is quelled when Ava shoots her a wink with a soft expression. Kiva stays at her heel as she gets the rest of her gear from the back of the van, both her and Camila taking a moment to slide in the contacts Jillian had developed for them to be able to see the otherworldly energy, namely wraiths.

Camila runs through the familiar procedures of checking and clearing her rifle and sidearm before sending both slides forward, each step of the process doing more to ease any worry she had. She looks calm. Much calmer than Beatrice ever thought she could be before a mission. The youngest of them was nervous for her first mission, but after that, she had this sort of bubbly energy that usually made its way known. Sweet Camila, what has this war done to you? It isn’t that she’s cold now. She’s just become more serious in the past year and Beatrice sometimes finds herself missing the naivety.

“Pets for luck, Brother Kiva?” The sister warrior asks permission once she has her rifle slung in front of her, her backpack resting high on her shoulders. When Kiva lets out a quiet woof, that usual Camila smile returns as she scratches between the Duchie’s ears. He gives a quick but affectionate lick to Camila’s hand. Exposing his glowing canines momentarily, the good had gone too hard after what he thought he was a stick early in his life and had broken his teeth. When Beatrice got him, he had titanium teeth, but when Mother Superian suggested they replace them with divinum it was one of the better ideas Beatrice had heard in a while.

Seeing such a normal reaction between her dog and her friend gives Beatrice hope that maybe, maybe, they stand a chance of getting back to their old selves after all of this. “See you guys soon.” With a short nod, she’s off to the clock tower.

Lilith straightens her vest one more time, craning her neck and exposing her claws in preparation. “Make the call when you are in position.”

“And what if I get there before you?” Ava challenges with a smirk to cover her worry.

“That’s not going to happen. But I’ll give you confirmation if that makes you feel better.” Lilith rolls her eyes, taking a step away from the van, ready to ‘whoosh’ her way to the friary. Of all the powers, Beatrice thinks that might be the most convenient.

Ava nods, her attention currently toward the Divinium knife she was securing to her forearm before pulling her sleeve down over it. Finding Lilith’s eyes, she gives her a nod, just to confirm. Just to be clear. “It does.”

“Careful, Ava. People might start to think you care about me.”

The halo barer, ever committed to the bit, gasps with a hand to her chest. Clearly affronted. “I would never.” Beatrice watches the two of them, their interactions always just a little bit mind-boggling. Since returning, Ava and Lilith have had a kinship of the other side, but also in the dichotomy they serve within this war. The angel and the demon, or whatever they were supposed to be. Together. The thing she’s never understood is how they find comfort in the bickering. Neither one of them have siblings.

Ava turns to her as Lilith disappears into the air. “Well, there she goes, like a bat out of hell.” Beatrice just continues adjusting the strap on her throwing knife harness, making those final little adjustments. She quickly moves on to fix Kiva’s vest in place. “No? Nothing.”

“It was not your best work, Love.” She crouches down in front of Kiva, pressing her forehead to his before dropping a quick kiss to his nose. She takes a breath, and curls her hands into the fur at his shoulders, a comfort for her growing nerves. A habit that had been her comfort as long as her furry friend had been at her side. These missions never used to bother her, but each one feels like it’s getting increasingly more important. More dangerous. “Stay close, Kiva.” She whispers, and no, you don’t have to tell her that’s not a command. This dog is the most intuitive creature she’s met. He knows. He’s always known. It’s only confirmed when he tilts his head up and licks gently at Beatrice’s cheek.

She stands slowly, turning to Ava. “You too.” Beatrice whispers low as she smoothes the armor resting over Ava's shoulders. This is getting both harder and easier. The closer they get to what might be the end of this thing. Ava is prepared and well beyond competent now. But Beatrice can’t help the worry that sits high in her chest every step they take closer to the end. A few months ago, it felt like it might never be over, which was a darkness that was hard to stave off. This, however, is an entirely different kind of daunting. One that makes Beatrice keenly aware of everyone’s mortality.

“Always.” Ava kisses her other cheek, only narrowly controlling the urge to lick it just as Kiva had, but also having the situational awareness to know that now is definitely not the time for that particular joke. She taps her earpiece as she starts walking in front of Beatrice toward the entrance to the lower Basiciala. “Coms check.”

“Are you two done making out?”

“Leave them alone, it’s sweet.” Camila chuckles before confirming she was “Lima Charlie.”

“Ooookaayyy. Good Coms.” Beatrice watches the blush crew across Ava’s cheeks to her ears. It would have been funnier if she didn’t feel her own face heating up. “Bea?”

“Loud and clear. How me?” Beatrice taps at her ear adjusting the volume, twisting the ear piece to have it sit more comfortably in her ear.

Ava swings her arms at her side, sending Beatrice a thumbs up as a confirmation, while Camilla responds “Got you the same.” The blush still creeps down Ava’s neck, her mind clearly somewhere a little less mission oriented. The sister warrior nods at her, reassuring in a way, but mostly to indicate it was time to focus, before clicking her tongue twice at Kiva calling him to her heel. Let's go, boy.