#bea fics

[reiyaus]

fem reader intended | pt 2

fratboy! gojo who's basically the typical fraternity student. passing all his classes yet still hosting a party any chance he gets.

fratboy! gojo who rejected the position of frat president, instead handing it off to his friend Nanami. claiming that if he were to lead something so big, he'd lose all the freedom he has.

fratboy! gojo who hooks up with some sororities every now and then, never taking their moments to heart. it gives him the reputation of a playboy but it didn't really matter to him.

fratboy! gojo who doesn't really remember the faces of every girl he spent the night with, often ignoring them in the halls whenever.

fratboy! gojo who hosts another part after finals to celebrate, inviting your friend over, who ends up bringing you as a plus one.

fratboy! gojo who doesn't notice you at first or bother to even look at you, a regular college student with no affiliations to any sorority/fraternity.

fratboy! gojo who runs into the sight of you leeching onto your (very drunk) friend, face buried onto your phone. but what really caught his attention was the sound coming from your device.

fratboy! gojo who sneakily tried peaking over your shoulder and gasped when his suspicions were confirmed: you were watching pokemon card unboxings. his favorite thing in the world, on top of partying.

fratboy! gojo who immediately struck up a conversation with you, not noticing how shocked you looked at the fact that someone this popular noticed you. not that you minded though.

fratboy! gojo who opened up his phone and started bombarding you with pictures of his own card collection. until you opened up about how you knew almost nothing about pokemon, and only watched out of boredom.

fratboy! gojo who takes this as an opportunity to start teaching you the basics of card trading, unconsciously inching closer to you everytime he hears your laughter.

fratboy! gojo who doesn't even realize that this is the first time he's gone without flirting with a girl- but instead bonding over shared interests.

fratboy! gojo who ends up asking for your number, only for the "sake of continuing your conversation". and he means it, he's actually excited about speaking to you more. not just to hook up.

fratboy! gojo who ends the night with a new friend, and blossoming love over pokemon cards. he might even start throwing less parties just to see you.

a/n: part two for this.... maybe?

update! im not adding anymore people into the tl

[thornedarrow]

"i don't think it has to be spoken."

in the mirror, i bloom - ephemeralis

ephi and i were partners for @skkbigbang-2023 and i am endlessly thankful for the incredible work she did DREAM TEAM FOR REAL 😭❤️ LOVE YOU. PLEASE READ

[existwound]

let me in if i break

M | 10k | Completed | Post-Canon | Keith/Lance

The door opens to reveal long, black, sweat-matted hair sticking to pale skin, an achingly familiar uniform, and a truly worrying amount of blood. He notices all these things, the minute details, the discarded crimson soaked bandages on the floor, his suture kit that’s strewn across the room, heavy breathing and shaky hands, before his mind allows him to piece it all together. His knife clatters to the ground.

After a year of radio silence, with no warning whatsoever, Keith Kogane is bleeding out on Lance’s bathroom floor.

or: Keith gets hurt. He doesn’t know where else to go.

[shy-forceghost]

During S2E4, when Vincent kidnaps Ava with the crown of thorns and Bea looks for her through Madrid, the information she gets from the police is that "a man and woman were seen running towards La Elipa", which is a neighbourhood in Madrid.

La Elipa has a famous graveyard (Nuestra Señora de Almudena) and a chapel of the same name, which is where the "church battle" takes place.

Well, this is the distance Beatrice walked/ran looking for Ava. Girl was on a mission.

[mnemosynes-collective]

“𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸’𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘺? 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘥.” 🐶

𝘋𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭. (22/)

[qinchez]

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ PAIRING: myth/dragon sylus, x female mc ( mc’s name is surina ).

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ SUMMARY: tidbits of conversation have an immediate effect on sylus, making him reminiscent his earlier days with his beloved.

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ GENRE: very myth focused. heavy angst. no comfort.

━ .ᐟ₊⊹ NOTES: i started writing only recently and english isn’t my first language so take this with a grain of salt. quotes mentioned are not mine but canonically in the game.

“i made it while you were getting your marshmallows. i didn’t have a lot of time, so the final product is rough around the edges …. are you satisfied with it, my beloved?”

ruby eyes facing iridescent ones. warmth being spread along one’s face and through their hearts, the source of heat not caused from the bonfire but the blossoming feelings exchanged between them both.

“yes … i am.”

it seems that she liked the flower crown he made for her. good. it made him happy that she did, but little did she know that wasn’t the first time she was given one from him.

she had forgotten, all memories of him gone, and it hurt more than expected. he didn’t blame her per say, but having to act as if she was a stranger, as if she wasn’t the one he loves, the one he longed for after waiting for so long to meet her hurt.

glimpses and flashbacks of were all he had of their doomed past.

surina was the sole reason for his humanity. the girl who named him. sylus, the ruthless, decisive, cruel, and merciless leader of onychinus, named by his beloved. even after his death and even without her remembering anything, he still chooses to go by said name. kindly welcoming the remaining fragments of her instead of nothing at all. the feeling of her being a part of his life is something that he has always longed, sometimes even, begged for.

she had taught him to be human. having such a profound effect on sylus. she was the one who gave him a purpose and a sense of humanity, these no longer welcome fragments still remaining a part of him, accepting whatever parts of her remain. her influence on him so deep that he chose to continue living under the name she had given him. her lasting impact on him was so significant that sometimes he yearned for her to be there, even in just some small capacity.

he had always clutched onto his humanity, in his own words, mistakingly believing he was a normal person. growing up and thinking he was one and trying to bend his identity into something he is not, refusing to come to terms with the fact that he is not human anymore, but a monster instead. he was scared. not only was his appearance changing, but his entire view of himself. who is he? who has he become? the very way he saw himself was now tainted.

her love acted like a balm over his injuries. as if she’s wiping away the blood from injuries caused by his own self. the act is so tender, a stark reminder of the way she viewed him, the way he wished to be viewed. like her equal, her companionship, and her love. he would love to simply exist as the man she loves.

accepting his identity as a monster also meant the fact that he always had a soft spot for animals. dragons have long been depicted as mythical monsters with powers and a fearsome presence. they are creatures of legend that inspire fear and awe in those who hear their name, always associated with destruction and chaos, yet symbolizing creation along with destruction. sylus had always been aware of this perception, sometimes even choosing to bask in it all. after all, he is strong, fearsome, and capable of unleashing destruction. although sometimes, that perception couldn’t be more different than what he is or wanted to be. people often thought of dragons as cursed animals. ones that should be locked away and are incapable of any love and affection, not knowing that said deemed impossible human love would be the cause of this dragon’s demise. a creature that is always perceived incapable of harboring such emotions, and an animal that could never be human, falling utterly in love. a love that made him thought he could live as a human too, and one that couldn’t last long.

a dragon’s curse that consists of killing his beloved. one that the two fated lovers … two star-crossed lovers whose fates and souls are entwined, could not escape, no matter how much they tried. no matter how many tears were shed and no matter their relentless efforts, it would always be futile. doomed by the narrative, the two lovers’ unwavering fight against their fate will never suffice. fate will continuously plunge the two lovers into the abyss as was written. the blood-red greatsword constantly reappearing, longing to be thrust into the dragon’s ruby like chest.

his heart, gleaming and vulnerable always seemed to beckon the blade. as if it was begged to be destroyed, as if his death was the key to some greater truth. she, his lover, was doomed to forever be his arch-nemesis. continuously finding herself the unwilling hand of fate, and the wielder of the cursed sword.

“….. you must press on. because if you don’t … there’s no going back.”

no matter how much she tried, how much she strained her own body to stop it all, it’s as if her body had a mind of its own, refusing to be controlled by her. agonizing screams pierced the abyss yet fell upon deaf ears. and to make matters worse, he was the one further plunging the sword further into his own chest. she knows him well enough to recognize that this is his last act of rebellion against their predestined fate, and a final laugh in the face of the curse, ending it on his own terms.

her hands and body were trembling, every gasp of pain from him resulting in a guttural sob escaping from her, tearing through the void. she could feel his pain and she wishes she can make this stop somehow, but all her attempts were futile, the curse merely mocking her for even trying to defy it. his ruby eyes, always the most gentle with her, were still filled with love and warmth but they now shimmered with a bittersweet resolve — a sight that broke her even more. the eyes that she adores, ones that always shone with an outwardly brilliance, that could put even the shiniest of gem stones to shame, were now getting dimmed as life was seeping from them.

he was bound to this blade, his soul burning with it. their sacred love now destroyed, and the stars weeped for them over and over. stars that have always shone so brightly were now dimmed with sorrow, mourning the tragedy of their love. every flicker of their light seemed to carry the grief of love once shared, an eternal lament to a love that couldn’t defy its cruel destiny.

the sword that was now pulsing, was ready to engulf him whole. he was slipping away between her fingers, the love of her life, dissolving into fragments, every shard carrying a piece of his soul, along with her own. even the stars that were weeping, their light flickering out one by one, the pain and suffering exhibited being enough to fully extinguish their light. it was as if the stars were paying tribute to the grief and agony that transpired.

she embraced him with all the strength she could muster, arms fully wrapped around his body, begging to anchor him to this world, to her. he was her other half, their souls and hearts bound forever. fingers were now desperately clinging onto him, as if to etch her love into his very being, and whispered pleas were being uttered.

“stay. please … please stay. don’t leave me, not like this, not again …” her voice was breaking, carrying the weight of their agony and the weight of a thousand lifetimes of loss.

she didn’t know who she was praying and begging to, but it didn’t matter. she would pray to every god that existed and kneel before every god and beg and beg and beg, if it meant she can have him next to her. she would scream her desperation to the heavens if she had to, move mountains, and commit every sin known to mankind if it meant he would not leave her side. she would beg until her knees buckled and her body gave up on her, knees bleeding from the ground’s cruel embrace, just so they can live the simplest of lives together. she wishes she could rewrite the stars and undo their doomed fates, no longer wanting anything else from the world, except his presence, because a world where he does not exist was one she could not endure.

she pressed her forehead against his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat of his heart — possibly for the very last time. the heart he gave to her without a second thought as it was hers since the beginning of time. he was merely returning it back to it’s rightful owner. with the last of his strength gathered, he kisses her forehead and whispers a goodbye, his eyes brimming with tears and love for her. her body shook, wracked with sobs that echoed the depth of her anguish as she listened to his heart as it stopped beating. as he slipped away, she was left with her own self, and an incurable tear in her heart. after all, no matter how much she longed for it, her love alone would never be enough to defy the cruel narrative that bound them.

[myokk]

Eloise🥹💓

[thepiecesofcait]

I'm such a sucker for Dad!Taire and subsequently It's Not The Same Anymore by @shamedumpster is the only thing that's gotten me through this week.

[pedriache]

i stumbled across ur page and absolutely adore ur fics! i was wondering if u could do a pedri gonzalez one where he looks for her at every game or something and he lights up (not really detailed but i hope u got it)

Add up my love — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Gn!Reader

Summary: Pedri, despite just scoring a goal, can’t help but fine you in the crowd, and dedicate it to you.

Word count: 260

Disclaimer/s: none, just fluff <3

A/N: Every time Pedri scores a goal, a fairies wings light up. HELLO😭

It had been a while since you had made it to one of Pedri’s games, so this was special to you. He’d promised, almost insisting, he’d score for you today.

You and only you. Obviously for his team and a win, but he wanted to be a show off and you would be damned if you didn’t let him.

The second the players entered the pitch, Pedri’s eyes scanned the crowd in search for you, as he did for every match you attended. Once he did find you, sitting with a few familiar faces, his eyes sparkled and he gave you a wide smile. You sent him a small wave before he had to line up for the anthem.

Eventually, the game began and you got settled into your seat, a wide smile of anticipation on your face.

It was the twenty-eighth minute in the game versus Sevilla. The crowd was amped and Raphinha had already scored, so your adrenaline, like others, was already spiking. You watched with your friends, and a few of the players girlfriend’s from the stands excitedly.

Lamine passed to Kounde, but the ball went through his legs and straight toward Pedri. You’d lurched from your seat, nearly tipping over your drink as you let out a loud scream. Pedri kicked the ball and..

Goal!

You were cheering, jumping, clapping, and waving. And in that moment, his eyes flickered up to your seat and he did his celebration, before bringing them to point up at you. Your heart swarmed with affection as you pointed right back at him.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl !

[reiyaus]

fem reader intended | part two of this

fratboy! gojo who meets up with you after getting your contact info the other night, laptop prepared to explain the important of card trading.

fratboy! gojo who, for once, finds it fun to converse with someone other than his small circle of friends. he can't deny the fact he finds you cute when you get confused- not like he'll tell anyone. (more under cut!)

fratboy! gojo whose friends are starting to notice that he isn't partying as much as he did before, but instead, actually attending his classes. to say that they were surprised is an understatement.

fratboy! gojo who walks with you during breaks only to hear you talk, whether it be about pokémon or whatever. with you, he can escape the frat-party life and settle down into a mellow, drunk-free personality. sure he can do that with his friends, but it comes naturally when with you.

fratboy! gojo who sets up chill hangouts when he realizes you aren't as interested in loud environments as him. from walks in the parks, a 1-hour pottery session, or cafe hopping around town- you find yourself enjoying every second of it.

fratboy! gojo who introduces you to his friends, embarrassed when they mention how he'd turn off dnd just to check if you replied. you laugh, comparing him to a clingy dog (which he is) and he feels himself dying even more.

fratboy! gojo who decides that he wants to properly confess his feelings for you during the night of valentines. take you out like normal and bring out the gift he prepared in his trunk. simple, right?

fratboy! gojo who couldn't stop cheesing anytime you looked away, yet acting flustered whenever you noticed. in his mind, he was the greatest at hiding his emotions- but you knew right away that something was up. considering how he asked to match with you, on valentines day.

fratboy! gojo who brings you to a secluded part of the beach where you could see the stars clearly, and has to calm himself down before making a fool out of himself (like he hasn't already).

fratboy! gojo who starts off by bringing up the first day you met, chuckling at how he found quietude in the midst of a party.

fratboy! gojo who takes your hands in his so gently, smiling at how well yours molded together. with one hand holding yours, he reaches into the back of his car and brings out the small basket he made.

fratboy! gojo who filled the basket up with your favorite snacks, a box of high-quality trading cards, a bracelet, and most importantly, a multipage, hand-crafted letter. stuck onto the back, was a candid polaroid he took of you the first time you hung out. aka, the day he realized he loved you.

fratboy! gojo who stumbles across his words, unable to properly convey the script he had in mind. his worry took over him when you didn't respond to anything he said.

fratboy! gojo who pauses after hearing your laugh, and looks up to see the same eyes he fell in love with staring right at him with such adoration. you're smiling. and soon, he finds himself smiling even harder.

fratboy! gojo who has to stop himself from cheering when you formally accept his confession. going as far as to exit out the car to give you the warmest embrace. melting in your arms, he finally has all the reason to kiss you on the cheek.

boyfriend! gojo who slowly retires from the party-life (and possibly playboy), and while still remaining in his frat- he'd very much rather spend his nights with you in his arms.

restful and content, satoru couldn't have asked for a better way to meet you.

a/n: for that one person who wanted it to be platonic... im sorry [sweat]... NEXT TIME! i really want to write "intimacy with platonic!gojo" or any other jjk character. also ignore how i portrayed gojo as a playboy (kind of) in the first part, i lowk forgot abt that when writing pt 2

taglist (only tagged those that asked) @ourfinalisation @cheriiepies @megumisthirdog @leabyjulia @blessingdancing @seternic @gojoscumslut @backinmyphase @cutieminaaa @wandabillywrites @shycreatorreview @bypanana @ilovemyhusbandnanami @l1v1ngzomb1e @raendarkfaerie @hellogojofan @exclusiverinaa @just-lilita @satorushousewife @jaeminaur @mjsjshhd @kaybug88 @minascasket @sapphireillusions @ravenbc @psoycy @juicus

[bat-boys]

Fave fan fiction atm? ✍️

Oh my god, there are so many! I am constantly living in the Azriel x reader tag!

Anything by the following authors:

@azrielbrainrot particularly their Azriel band member au. I never knew how much I needed band member Azriel in my life until now.

@itsswritten, Naughty little shadows is a personal fave and their newest fic Gone has broken my heart and repaired it in the best way possible.

@daycourtofficial every single fic of theirs gives me life but I absolutely adore falling in love on the fourth floor.

@writingcroissant writes so many of my favourite Azriel fics, I legitimately stayed up one night reading everything. I am very excited for their The Lies of Windhaven series.

@illyrianbitch every. single. fic. is. perfection. Obsessed with Death and His Reaper. An Education in Malice was life changing.

We're vvvvv blessed as a fandom to have some of the best fic writers.

x

[hightowerqueen]

WIP Wednesday

thank you @saltyowlets, @skullypettibone and @serensama for the tag <3 i'll tag @flowersforthemachines, @rookinthecrownest, @thesecollidinghearts and @motleymercurialmarionette (no pressure!)

i spent like an hour last night writing up a letter from Illario to Bea for chapter 3 of RPiMS so here's that:

[kaisollisto]

“Are you here?" Ava barely breathes it, there's a tension in the air that she can't recognize, an energy that squashes her. Her throat feels scratchy and she can feel the Halo slotted between her shoulders. Ava's flat on her back head turned to look over at Beatrice. She feels wimpy like a stomped flower, her left arm dangles dangerously close to Beatrice-territory. She wants to reach out, to touch Beatrice to confirm that she's here but something stops her. She feels so silly, she could easily shift over to touch Beatrice, shake her gently and - 

Beatrice slides over, a firm sleepy sister warrior knife wielding badass with frumpy hair poofing from what remains of her low bun. She moves towards Ava, inches away from her but moves to answer her. It’s rare for Ava to see her like this. Beatrice is clearly fighting sleep, rubbing her eyes and doing her best to move in hopes that it’ll shake the sleepy spell. 

She’s dressed in one of Ava’s ugly loose white shirts, a huge bass clashing with faded big blocky lettering that just reads “FISH”. Beatrice had looked at her weirdly when Ava had dug it out of the bins at a thrift store disheveled and ecstatic. 

Ava had spent hours coaxing her into it doing her damn best to hide Beatrice’s laundry when she wasn’t looking. It fills a warm feeling in her chest and Ava wants to burrow further into it. It was a fool proof plan. 

Ava found her shortness made it exhausting to reach up towards the Beatrice-level-cabinets. The halo pulls at her pinching and knotting up the muscles in her back after a long day of training. She feels it alive within her, an uncomfortable reminder sealed inside her back. 

At the end of the day Ava settled on hinging at the waist. She had slowly started integrating Beatrice’s sleep shirts in cabinets that Beatrice had to bend down to reach. Ava always tried to situate herself at the scene of the crime doing her best to seem inconspicuous while she leaned over hungry for Beatrice’s reaction. Ava thumbed her findings down in the recess of her mind, her finger tracing over it in a hurried desperation. The time would pass and she did not want to forget. 

(It helped, the imagery of Bea’s furrow when she would find her sleepwear underneath the sink when Ava would have to tuck her spine into the halo as she placed the shirt somewhere clean.) 

Thanks to her genius planning Beatrice had finally caved and worn Ava’s huge “FISH” t-shirt after weeks of her persistence. She looked adorable, she was drowning in it and constantly tugging at it. She had found Beatrice loved to tuck it into the band of her sleep shorts creating puffy funny creases distorting the text even further to say “FSH”. It looked so ugly and old and endearing. 

She looked out of her depth and it made Ava’s heart thump funny. Beatrice with her weird posh mannerisms combined with the peaceful unguarded look when she slumbered made her feel hot all over. 

It was the prospect of the future, a glimpse into her life with Beatrice, of when they would grow old together. It shakes her, the idea that Beatrice will get wrinkles with her. She takes it seriously, a study that she isn’t well versed in but preparing for. It is a long hard internal debate flipping between what wrinkles will show first. Ava selfishly hopes it’s smile lines, that Beatrice will smile at her as much as she does in secret. She’s happy to be wrong, Beatrice’s forehead crinkles have always been cute. She hopes that Beatrice never stops looking at her, thinking of her. She wants to spend a long time being the source of her wrinkles. And just for right now she can handle the role of being just her friend. 

Beatrice blinks one eye open, the other pressed against the pillow as she stifles a yawn. Her hand blocks her mouth in a delicate way and Ava can see her nails are short and uneven in places. Ava wishes she could touch them, study them in a way no one has done before. She wants to press against Beatrice hard enough to watch her skin fold around hers. Some sort of truth that she was here, that she is here. 

Beatrice scoots over slowly, her elbow tucked under the pillow. She stops inches away from Ava, a frown set in her jaw. Ava mirrors her position albeit more awkwardly and more wiggling than Beatrice’s but she finds a place where the Halo won’t bite her back. 

“I’m here,” Beatrice murmurs it, a quiet thing between them. 

Ava closes her eyes hoping Beatrice won’t notice her shakiness. She blinks a few times before she presses closer, the arm she’s laying on moving to support her head underneath the pillow. 

There’s so much to tell her, anything and nothing at all and Ava doesn’t know where to start. It constricts her throat, the constant stream of consciousness from inside of her heart. It’s horrible and she can’t stop it as the feeling balloons inside of her lungs. Ava wants help, she so desperately wants to feel okay again, to feel anything other than the stupid fucking halo. It grates on her nerves and muscles, a burning hot metal ring poking and prodding at the entirety of her upper torso. It leaves her reeling, a sort of anger that beckons for her to hurt (hurt something, hurt someone, hurt), disregarding the aftermath of tears and shame. 

Ava is sure she’s shaking, a layer of sweat gathers between the space of her shoulder blades as the Halo lights up with her inner turmoil. It’s a faint pitiful thing that Ava would be ashamed of if not for the bone aching tiredness. 

She wants to say she’s sorry the words clawing their way up her throat and it feels wrong to feel anything but that. There’s a sort of unspoken shame that haunts her with the Halo. It’s a thing she’s known long before any of this. 

Beatrice drags her out of her turmoil with her hand hovering near Ava’s pinky. She has a gracefulness to it, like she has practiced it a hundred times over. It’s weird, to be in a bed, a soft and lumpy bed looking at Beatrice. Beatrice with such plain features and subtle cheekbones that Ava can’t stop looking. It pays off, watching Beatrice, Ava knows it when Bea smiles a grin too wide for polite acknowledgement and Ava can see her dimples pronounced. 

“Can I?” Beatrice’s finger lingers near her hand, a hovering itch that Ava needs scratched. It’s so wholeheartedly Beatrice that Ava can do nothing but nod. Something inside of Ava aches harder than the rest of the organs inside of her. It’s the unwavering crushing thumping feeling that squeezes around her heart. The sincerity of Beatrice. 

She places her hand over Ava’s and squeezes her gently. Beatrice’s hands are firm and soft. She can feel the callouses on her palms prodding at the back of her hand and wonders if Beatrice has ever had them fade away. If she’s had the pleasure of unscathed palms. Her hands are warm but not sweaty, not like Ava’s.

Ava can’t feel Beatrice’s pulse but she tries her best to match it. She imagines it would be a slow melody playing a duet with a classical track. Some sort of tune that spurs comfort or a feeling of nostalgia. She briefly wonders if Beatrice listens to music, if she seeks out music that has spoken to her. If there was a song that shook her to her core so deeply she had to sit down and digest it. There’s so much she still needs to know and so little time. 

“I admit I’m not sure what you need from me.” Beatrice whispers it quietly, she’s hunched awkwardly, hovering close in Ava’s space but too far away for her own comfort. 

Ava clamps her mouth shut, sure that “come closer” will betray her. That she will reach too far into Beatrice and take far too much. 

Beatrice pays no mind to Ava’s silence and slowly caresses her hand, it’s a small little gesture that seems to have no set course. Ava briefly wonders if it’s the start of a massage or if Beatrice is looking for her joints underneath her skin and touching her tendons in apology. 

It should be awkward, Beatrice and Ava orbiting each other in a lopsided manner. A rotational tilt that is unfamiliar to both of them and yet feels intimate. An unknown dance with their eyes closed and their breaths mingling. (It’s easy to follow Beatrice’s lead, Ava knows love.) 

There’s nothing Ava can say to her, she chokes up at the prospect and they both blink at each other. She’s not sure what she needs, only that it’s nice having someone here. 

Beatrice drowsily blinks rapidly and slowly at the same time as Ava watches swallowing the bits of her smile. Her hand has slowed its pathing, opting to curl on the inside of Ava’s fingers. It’s endearing watching one of her favorite bad ass sister warriors lose against sleep. It softens the edges of Beatrice who is always carrying some unseen obligation. (Here it is only the two of them free of their past and future burdens, just two girls sprawled thinly on hopes and dreams). 

She can feel Beatrice’s grip loosen, she’s going to fall back asleep any minute now but Ava doesn’t have the heart to keep her up. Beatrice is no doubt tired, powered by her own sleeping and eating habits unlike Ava who has the artifact to juice her up. 

She isn’t quite unwound but she feels manageable now. It’s weird to be within reach of Beatrice, someone who cares about her. To be in proximity of someone who will look for her, be in step with her, maybe it’s duty but Ava holds it close to her heart regardless. (It’s all the same to her, devotion, loyalty, love). 

She clings to Beatrice afraid to let the moment go, she had called and someone had answered, Bea had answered. Ava can feel her eyes watering, it almost feels like a distant dream. She tucks her chin closer to chest and thinks, how awful to be loved. 

She can feel her throat closing up and she squeezes Bea’s hand just a tiny bit harder. (She answers in the twitch of her hand, clearly on the cusp of sleep). The Halo still thunders in her back throbbing some fatal fate but here in the hush of night grounded by the touch of Beatrice she has some reprieve.  (Part 1)

[mnemosynes-collective]

⚠️ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴? 👀 (19/)

[call-me-maggie13]

Beatrice doubts she’s ever been so nervous. Her head is spinning and she fidgets with the bundle in her hands, brown paper crinkling as she tugs softly on the tiny yellow bow wrapped around it.

She hesitates on the front step, considers tossing the bouquet into the bin closest to her and running the opposite direction. This is possibly the worst decision of her entire life. Completely unprompted. She should’ve consulted Shannon.

"Oh." Ava pauses in the doorway, one foot on the stone steps mere inches away from Beatrice. "Were you…"

Beatrice feels her face burn when Ava’s eyes settle on the red tulips in her arms. Eleven red and a single yellow tulip.

Red tulips. A declaration of love.

"Mama, move it!" Diana pushes through Ava’s legs, stumbling into the daylight like a newborn deer, squinting against the sun until her eyes adjust and she recognizes Beatrice, grinning and leaping into her. "Papa!"

Beatrice can’t look away from Ava, she’s analyzing every micro expression that passes over her face. Ava knows what it means. Perhaps Valentine’s Day isn’t the time for this. Beatrice should’ve waited.

"Papa!" Diana yanks on Beatrice’s coattail, pointing to the brown paper bundle in her arms. "What’s it?"

Beatrice forces herself to thaw, heart pounding against her ribs as she swallows it from the back of her throat.

"It’s a gift. For you and… and your mama." Finally, Ava lifts her eyes, cheeks pink and lips parted. Beatrice fumbles over the flowers, trying to find the yellow tulip to tug free for Diana. But she doesn’t look away from Ava.

Beatrice had really hoped to catch them while Diana was still napping so she would have time to process before attending to the little girl. In fact, she probably had arrived while Diana was napping but she’d spent so long doubting herself that Diana had awoken.

Diana takes her flower from Beatrice, inspects it quietly before extending it for Ava to admire.

Beatrice hadn’t meant to declare her love for Ava in the snowy, winter air. She hadn’t meant for it to be a grand gesture. It was meant for Ava alone. For her and Ava.

She’d had a speech prepared for Ava’s tiny entryway, her stained linoleum tiles, her crayon colored walls.

I’m yours. She had wanted to say. For as long as you’ll have me.

Beatrice offers the remaining bouquet to Ava, extending them for Ava to either accept or deny. Waiting for Ava to either accept her or turn her away.

The next second moves impossibly slow. Ava steps toward the tulips, hand reaching to brush their petals before moving away. Beatrice’s heart falls, sinking deep into her stomach. Ava has been considering the best way to reject her. Beatrice has read too deep into their interactions. She’s misinterpreted and ruined everything and -

Oh.

Ava’s lips are soft and warm against hers, tender and tentative. Beatrice’s mind has barely processed what was happening before Ava is pulling away, apologies clouding the minuscule space between them until Beatrice surges forward and they crash together again.

They haven’t kissed since they returned from Christmas. Beatrice isn’t certain why, not a single moment has passed that she hasn’t thought about kissing Ava. The thought had overtaken her, pulsed deep in her veins until she’d had to pull away, little by little, creating a chasm between them. A chasm flowing with anxiety and worry.

She’s not certain what she’d ever fret over before because this might the only thing Beatrice had ever been certain of in her life.

They’re only pulled apart by a high whine from Diana, a cry of boredom and annoyance. Even then, they linger in each other, noses brushing and breath mixing.

Beatrice still hasn’t found the words she’d rehearsed previously, only four she hadn’t considered tumble past her lips into the shared air betwixt them.

"Will you be mine?" The uncertainty lingers only a moment before Ava pulls away to giggle, nodding rapidly and blushing deeply. She flings her arms around Beatrice’s neck and buries her nose there, effectively knocking the flowers from Beatrice’s hand. Beatrice doesn’t much mind.

"I thought I already was."

Find more here!

[vnbifolio]

desperate for you; cover por bea

capa teste, [03/03/25]