#Shannon x mary

[daisychainsandbowties]

ava only fully understanding now what mary had lost in shannon, having picked up more of the story than mary had been willing to share in those scant few weeks before her disappearance. having had time to sit with herself and be able to look back and see the way mary had been so thoroughly wrapped around an absence, a corpse, and now in the aftermath clinging so tightly to her, to this idea of what she could have done to bea had she not survived

picking the story out of bea like unwrapping a wound. nights in switzerland with the windows open and the lights off and the whole world reduced to beatrice’s voice.

talking about mary so precisely, never slipping on the grammar. always mary is, like words alone could bring her home. but then the shift, inevitable, as beatrice draws the past out of her pocket like an old receipt and smooths it onto the table so that ava can look, breathing in a half-forgotten scent.

cedarwood and oil paint drying (‘it takes a very long time’). turpentine and a mug full of paint water and shannon’s mouth against it. charcoal dust and pencils scattered over her desk. boots propped by the door.

how mary would look at her. the glancing touches, the way they’d hold each other after missions and it made beatrice think of atoms colliding at great speed. turning into light, turning everything to dust.

beatrice looking down at her hands as the grammar shifts to shannon was.

when ava phases, her body turns to diffuse light, threads of scattered gold. she wants to ask beatrice if there’s ever a trace, a sketch, a silhouette of someone else inside that light.

she doesn’t ask, but when mary comes back she tells ava that she sees shannon everywhere. in the light falling down behind the hills. in roof tiles and old hoodies and too many pairs of boots.

‘do you see her in me?’

‘i see her in beatrice. with you it’s… more of a feeling.’

‘like a vibe?’

a slow, fond smile. ‘sure. it’s like a vibe.’

both of them roasting marshmallows on a campfire and beatrice just visible between the trees, stooping to collect more wood. when mary speaks again her voice has an ache inside it.

‘sometimes when i’m standing next to you i forget where i am, and it’s like i’m catching her light, casting her shadow.’

ava taking her hand, putting her head on mary’s shoulder and feeling a sudden surge of warmth in the halo. like a hand reaching out to grasp them both.

but all she says is, ‘you fucked up your marshmallow.’

they swap sticks so that when bea comes back she kneels next to ava, puts her hand over ava’s hand to teach her how to do it right. mary shaking with silent laughter as ava pretends to be clueless for the sake of bea saying, ‘here, like this. close but not too close to the flames.’

ava thinking too late, i’m already in the fire. i’m already alight.

kissing bea when she’s finished her demonstration and making her taste-test the perfectly cooked marshmallow. mary groaning and ava laughing into bea’s mouth, tasting sugar, carbon, fire.

watching mary sit next to the dying light as bea sets up their sleeping bags. ava privately of the opinion that they definitely don’t need two of them. then turning, seeing mary upset the ashes, look into the sky, lips moving.

maybe it’s prayer. ava knows she prayed to beatrice on the other side.

going into the tent and kissing bea slow, tender, hiding an apology in her mouth, on the inside of her arm, between her breasts. knowing she was almost an absence, like shannon. a loss, a thing of light and dust. knowing mary will never unravel it from her bones. but knowing, as she did when she kissed bea the first time, that love is worth holding, worth having. even for an instant, for the length of a kiss and a goodbye.

that a house is only ever haunted because someone lived in it, slept in it, painted its walls and ate meals in the kitchen. she wakes up in the morning and mary’s there, making coffee, telling ava that shannon always put a spoonful of sugar in hers, but no milk.

‘bittersweet?’

‘yeah.’

and ava knows from bea that mary drinks her coffee unsweetened, but sometimes with a little milk. and yet watching as mary pours out the coffee and empties a sugar packet into hers. sipping it and looking out at the trees, at the forest, at all these places shannon has never touched.

[ao3feed-avatrice]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Warrior Nun (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva, Shotgun Mary/Shannon Masters, Sister Camila/Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun) Characters: Ava Silva, Sister Beatrice (Warrior Nun), Sister Camila (Warrior Nun), Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun), Shotgun Mary (Warrior Nun), Shannon Masters, Jillian Salvius, Michael Salvius, Mother Superion (Warrior Nun), Father Vincent (Warrior Nun), Yasmine Amunet, J.C. (Warrior Nun), Chanel (Warrior Nun) Additional Tags: Fake Marriage, fake marriage au, Slow Burn, like excruciatingly slow, Angst, and they were ROOMMATES, alternating pov, two authors one brain cell, our google doc keeps crashing, rated explicit for sex in later chapters, we've written so many words send help Summary:

“Bea.” Ava tilts forward to take her hands. “You are literally one of the most interesting people I have ever met.” Beatrice opens her mouth but Ava pushes on. “I have loved getting to know you over these past weeks and I can’t wait to deceive the American government with you. I am all in.”

Beatrice is blushing furiously.

“Thank you,” she chokes out.

“The pleasure is all mine, babe.”

[busyheaded]

someone to you [1/1]

words: 10,209 summary: When Shannon sees Beatrice for the last time, it’s through the eyes of the paralyzed girl that followed in her footsteps. Beatrice is twenty-five, and Shannon has been dead for two years.

or, a Beatrice character study through the perspective of Shannon.

excerpt:

Mary is the strongest light in her life.

And even more than that, Mary is here.

She’s not stuck in a book on her bedside table, thin pages and circular words. She’s not hidden in misconstrued life events, not lost to the myths of time. She’s not so far away that Shannon must kneel at her bed to speak with her, and she’s not so unreachable that Shannon can’t tell if she’s even listening. Instead, she’s holding Shannon’s hand, flesh on flesh, fingers intertwined. She’s feeding Shannon pieces of apple, or bringing her cups of tea when they study in the library. She’s holding Shannon in her arms, strong and true and saved just for her.

Mary is here in all the ways that God never was, and she’s absent in all the ways the Church forced their way through.

Of course, when Beatrice asks if Shannon ever has had regrets about taking her vows and becoming a nun, Shannon says, “No, never.”

Right away she wishes she could take it back. It’s just that Beatrice looked so nervous to even ask that she figured she should answer confidently, and she didn’t even know what to say or where to start, and by the time the firmness of her answer catches up to her, all she can see is the way Beatrice’s expression melts into relief. Or is it helplessness?

Shannon isn’t sure, and before she can figure it out, the moment passes.

Three days later, Beatrice takes her vows.

Shannon congratulates her, wraps her arms around her tightly, and tries not to feel like a noose.

READ MORE ON AO3

[feiquacker]

Masterpost :D

Warrior Nun (mainly hurt!bea) ficlets I have posted on tumblr but not on AO3

Most of these are continuations of @ritsuuu-0206 and the hurt!bea server's ideas. Be aware that I make weird typos and stupid mistakes :D

TW: Child Abuse, Torture, Violence, Homophobic/ableist slurs

School AU

Bea and Ava prompt: Alone

I tie Bea up and whip her

Bea snaps at the fam after being injured

Bea and her overprotective family

Bea has a fever before the news of Mary

Fluffy Avatrice with their kid

Each one of these has a happy ending!! No dead!Bea. I do not bury my gays.

[godsweakestsoldier]

Okay I see your came back wrong and your came back and now they’re happy. Let me raise you a third one, came back and desires to be dead again. Bear with me. A character bringing another character back from the dead with the best intentions, filled with so much love. Then the character comes back, and goes I wish you would’ve let me stay dead.

[lesbianjamies]

It’s easy to fall in love with a Warrior Nun. It’s loving the Warrior Nun that’s the hard part. They’re never yours. They never last.

[julianavalds]

She reminds me of Shannon... before the end.

[whyislenaluthorsohot]

Ava and Shannon being two halves of the same whole. Two bodies brought into the Church, one dead and one alive. Only one walked out. Did Shannon know she was a placeholder? Did she know she wasn't destined to be the hero, but a martyr in the name of something greater?

Shannon and Ava traded lives. Shannon gave her life, the Halo, to Ava while Ava gave her death to Shannon, both done so unknowingly. Shannon was the heart of the Sister Warriors and she passed that down to Ava. Both were the heart. Did Shannon know everything would break without her? Or did she know her sisters would rally with the new Warrior Nun?

Did Shannon watch as everything crumbled and everything she believed in die? Did she mourn Lilith, both in death and betrayal, for she is was her sister? Did she watch as Mary gave her life for her sisters to live, did she feel relief?

Did Shannon watch as Beatrice and Ava fell in love and denied themselves only to watch them be doomed for a Warrior Nun is never truly theirs? Did she see Mary and herself within them and know how their story would end? As another tragedy. Or did she watch them go through trial after trial and believe they would survive? Believed that they would get to live with each other as Mary and she never had the chance to.

Two girls enter a church, one dead and one alive. Only one walks out, the one not expected. Is she the same person as the one alive or different? Two halves of the same coin are always doomed.

[xenaisnumber1]

Amazing how a ship has less than 10 minutes together and you still become obsessed with them

[sunlightwanda]

Every shawty

Needs their tall English girlfriends

It's a package deal I think

[daisychainsandbowties]

thinking about how groups in isolation grow close with rapidity, develop bonds and rely on each other for physical comfort at the same speed with which lesbians U-Haul, and so you shove a bunch of queer girls into a socially isolated situation like Cat's Cradle and they develop a shorthand, they seek each other out for the quiet touches they can't get from family or friends anymore, they collapse into cuddle puddles in the grass after training and braid each other's hair and hold each other close and watch each other die

Help I’m thinking about this post and shanmary signing to each other and the implications of that across the whole OCS.

Shannon sitting cross-legged with Beatrice in the afternoons when they’re both exhausted from training, walking her through the movements and the syntax and the variations on each sign.

Bea and Shannon use it when Shannon finally persuades Beatrice to be her lookout while she pranks Lilith.

The tall, intimidating figure who catches Bea the first time because she’s too distracted by conspiratorial grins and Shannon touching her arm as she sprints down the hall.

“Come on!” but Bea’s still fresh to the OCS, and this request is absent the snap of command that usually shadows Shannon’s voice.

In a flurry of dark hair and angry eyes she finds herself pinned to the wall by Lilith, her nails bloody from climbing the drainpipe after Shannon emptied a bucket of water down onto her from the window above.

Stunned by that touch, unmoving. Lilith, who quirks an eyebrow, “Not even going to put up a fight?”

Shannon signing to get Bea’s attention when she’s on the verge of a panic attack. Naming sensations and they’re variations on “i can feel you. i can hear you.”

“you’re here.”

Beatrice with all her languages learning this new one from Shannon and also a separate language of touch. She’s so remote at first, flinching from everything but fists, until Mary pulls her aside and makes her play stupid hand-dexterity games that leave her palms stinging and her face flushed.

Sometimes, Lilith catches her under the chin with her fingers as she walks by, a silent “chin up” reminding her she’s a warrior now, not a disgraced daughter.

Mary bracing Bea with her arm when they stumble out of a tear-gassed room, palm over Bea’s mouth because fuck knows what they put in those cannisters, fuck knows if it might be lethal in high doses.

Beatrice learns to do these things in return, turning her head into Lilith's chest when the field medic takes her gloved hands out of someone’s chest and asks for the time. Lilith's mouth, warm on her temple, she who never looks away.

Helping Mary clean the guns and butting shoulders as they work, sharing Mary's earbuds. Beatrice only nodding cryptically when Mary asks if she likes a particular song - in her head thinking ‘I like you. the song’s just noise we’re both hearing.’

Shannon and Bea mirroring their movements with the bō, wordless competitions for who can spin it the longest without dropping it. Bea watching Mary and Shannon sit out on the grass, Shannon with her arms around Mary as Mary sits bracketed by her legs, pulling up blades of grass with a complicated expression.

Bea signs on the days she doesn’t want to speak. Lilith teases that she’s one of those silent nuns who only speak to god (but gently, gently) thumb tucked under Bea’s chin as she checks a graze on her cheekbone. Bea, transfixed by Lilith’s tight, concerned frown.

A dry, “Oh yes, how astonishing that someone might give a shit about you” from Lilith before she notes Beatrice’s stricken expression, squeezes her shoulder and makes an odd, abortive motion like she wants to brush her lips over Bea’s forehead, but thought the better of it.

Mary who won’t learn Spanish but picks this up, if not with ease then with determination, with renewed fervor when Shannon gets the halo. Looking to her ears for the telltale trickle of ruptured eardrums before dropping back to this, their shared voice.

And this, too, is how they learn to die.

Beatrice fixing the straps on Lilith’s vest, tugging them tight so the armor won’t collapse into a puncturing shape at the point of impact. Lilith letting her do it - the routine is like with a hazmat suit or a space suit. Check your own, check someone else, and let them check you.

“You look ridiculous in that hood, like a worm.”

“Thank you Lilith.” As Bea tightens the last strap, smooths it flat. Her hand lingers so Lilith takes it. Why not?

“Don’t die tonight, okay?” Lilith pauses. “I refuse to attend a vigil mass for a worm.”

Beatrice bites back on something. Lilith knows what it is, knows what she looks like, has wrestled Shannon over it and scowled at Mary - “Wow Lil, now you match your personality. A dickhead.”

All the stupid little nerd says is, “I’ll see you in the van.”

And she does, but it’s with Shannon’s blood on her hands, the divinium in her body casting little lights on the ceiling of the van, like glow-in-the-dark stars. Lilith’s eyes roaming in the rearview mirror, both hands busy on the wheel, as Shannon coughs on a mouthful of blood and switches to her hands.

They shake, fluttering out their meanings as street lights switchback in over the tense shape of Lilith’s shoulder.

“Hey,”

Beatrice wants to clutch her hands but she wants the words, too.

Her voice breaks around the response, so she mirrors, like they’re doing forms on the grass, like they’re home.

“Hey.”

[ao3feed-avatrice]

Chapters: 18/18 Fandom: Warrior Nun (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva, Sister Beatrice & Sister Camila & Sister Lilith & Shotgun Mary & Shannon Masters & Ava Silva, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Shotgun Mary/Shannon Masters, Sister Camila/Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun) Characters: Ava Silva, Sister Beatrice (Warrior Nun), Shotgun Mary (Warrior Nun), Shannon Masters, Sister Camila (Warrior Nun), Sister Lilith (Warrior Nun), Jillian Salvius, Michael Salvius, Background & Cameo Characters, Mother Superion (Warrior Nun), Cardinal Duretti (Warrior Nun) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Ballerina x Lighting Designer AU, POV Alternating, Ballerina Sister Beatrice, Lighting Designer Ava Silva, Ambulatory Wheelchair User Ava Silva, the burn feels slow but they're still moving at a gay pace, Strangers to Lovers, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Bad Parenting, Sister Beatrice Needs a Hug (Warrior Nun), Dysfunctional Family, Medical Device, Chronic Pain, Medical Procedures, Minor Injuries, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Comedy, happy pride!! Summary:

coda (n.): in music, a passage that brings a piece (or a movement) to an end

 Ava Silva has everything she’s ever wanted. Her dream job designing lights for the Royal Ballet. An apartment bigger than a shoebox. A city to explore full of sexy accents and taxis that are all (yes, ALL) equipped with ramps.

Beatrice Young has everything she’s ever wanted. A coveted spot as one of the youngest ever principal dancers at the Royal Ballet. The role of a lifetime. A routine that makes it so that she never has to worry about what happens next.

It’s funny how quickly things change.

[deusamatne]

yall ever think about the parallel between mary declaring ‘in this life’ and ava declaring ‘in the next’?

mary breaks formation to avenge someone she loves and she dies. Ava breaks formation to save someone she loves and she dies. Both were done out of love and both ended tragically. Both were on the last ep of the last season

[avassharpe]

Warrior Nun 1x07 | Ephesians 4:22-24

[birgittesilverbae]

worst kept secret of the ocs

[princington]

libby you outshine the morning sun