Hiii 👋 just in case I'm still in time (totally okay if I'm not) for shenanigans how about a warrior nun Ava-Bea-Lil one? Gamers au, final match of a bug tournament?
Love you! Sorry I was late 😔
never ever apologize for wanting to participate! also i'm gonna assume you meant big tournament bc i cannot write bugs 🙈 alsoalso your own guess at what game they're actually playing lol
Ava's busy returning fire when she hears the announcement of another teammate going down. She swears under her breath; does a quick check - lets out a sigh to note that Beatrice and Lilith are still with her, as always.
They're so close. The last checkpoint is within reach, one of them just needs to cross the courtyard in the next -Ava glances at the clock- 60 seconds.
"Bea?" Ava asks, trying to control her own vibrating as she gets into position. Remember your training, Ava thinks, her thoughts taking on a notable British accent.
"Hold position."
Ava doesn't argue, knows the plan. Knows that Lilith is meant to be the one to see them through, just like she has the whole run in the tournament.
But their opponents know this too and have her pinned down in a corner of the map. Too far to make it in the next 45 seconds.
Ava thinks she hears the grinding of teeth when Lilith grits out, "Ava, go."
She nods even though she knows they won't see it; understands the weight, the trust. She won't let them down, not now.
Ava lets loose: she dashes, dives, takes a hit that leaves her life bar blinking, but knows she can make it. Throws a grenade, hears Beatrice and Lilith both over the comms - sees the checkpoint and leaps -
"Team HALO secures the win!"
Ava jumps up from her seat, nearly overturning the table as she all but screams. The stadium roars with her as she's engulfed by Beatrice and Lilith on either side of her.
Fuck, she thinks, beaming and crying as she holds them close, overwhelmed by how much she loves this team, this game, this life.
But above all, she thinks as she's raised up onto Beatrice and Lilith's shoulders, she loves winning.
playing assassin’s creed 2 on my decrepit switch and thinking about this au again 🫠🫠
////
it startles her sometimes. Beatrice's voice in her ear while she stands in the Sanctuary making very glancing contact with the cool statues of long-dead Assassins. Wrapped in the close-coiled strength of Ezio’s body, his height so unlike her own when she stumbles back to consciousness, to achy pains in her legs from the Abstergo implants growing faultier by the day.
she told you there would be a cost. running away sounded so simple when you could still actually run.
“Ava, can you step a bit to the left of the statue so I can screenshot the detail on the back. You never know where some symbol or maker’s mark might be hiding, and understanding the provenance of-”
Her voice, so captiving when it’s Ava’s body and its particular habits of response doing the listening, falls flat against her ears. She is too used to the silly Italian-accented English that the animus feeds her through its filter. Beatrice’s accent, which ordinarily strikes her as charming, can only be jarring when it finds her in this broad-shouldered body.
Still, she steps obediently aside in Ezio’s body, cloak caught in one hand to stop it from brushing the stone. Almost speaks just to hear the low hum of his voice, its mechanism of sound in her throat. She has been reading a little about what makes this body different from her own and this particular thing is thicker vocal cords. It feels like speaking through honey, bright-dashed on her tongue.
Not that Ava dislikes her own voice, but there is something intoxicating about inhabiting this body. Its sweat and sweetness.
Beatrice asked how much of a filter she wanted on the language right in the beginning, when Lilith still glowered and Ava’s body felt strong in its own right. Abstergo’s strings unraveled fast. By the second day her steps across the room were shaky. By the end of the third she couldn’t walk. Beatrice and Lilith had finished arguing, the latter running Abstergo’s memory core through the strange red-upholstered animus, the HALO, as Lilith called it.
“Like the video game?”
A black look not at all offset by the clearly thrifted shirt that hung off Lilith’s frame and bared collarbone. Beatrice was out doing laundry and making tentative enquiries into how one might hack Abstergo’s subscription-based leg implants so Ava could walk again.
“Not remotely like the video game.”
Beatrice helped Ava into the animus and approached the issue of translation with an embarrassed frown.
“So, ah, have you read any Chaucer?”
“Is that the guy from A Knight’s Tale? the blonde one?”
Beatrice's expression of blank incomprehension and Lilith’s death-rattle of a laugh in the background. Lilith who is biting and unfriendly at every opportunity and also very gentle with Ava when she pulls her from the animus late at night while the others are sleeping. “Here, let me put some gauze on the insertion point. and this gel,” cool on the inside of her wrist which is raw and constantly bloody from the USB-like cable they use to keep her sedated and also hooked-up to the animus and, in turn, the memories in her blood.
“Why does ours work like this, and not the one in Abstergo?”
“The difference… is about 5 billion US dollars. give or take a nonetheless functionally inconceivable amount of money.” Lilith with her strange tempers, her eyes on Ava’s wrist and her legs spread in concentration, "I wasn't lying when I said Abstergo had deeper pockets than us.”
“just understating.” Ava, tired, didn’t try to keep the mingled pain and longing out of her voice. Not with Lilith to whom there seems no point in lying.
Ava doesn’t care if this particular girl judges her.
dark eyes flicking up, granted a strange flat effect by the monitors still gleaming like belligerent lighthouses in what Ava can only describe as a loft room turned… something else. “Beatrice described the bleeding effect to you.” It's a statement. It is also a question.
“Are you trying to ask if I'm hallucinating?”
“They're not hallucinations, really. More like echoes.”
It doesn't feel like a comforting distinction to Ava, but she looks around the dark space obediently.
just beatrice snoring lightly on her little floor-pallet made of blankets and cardboard and scattered books. No shadows, no play of light between real and not-real.
A slow shake of her head and Lilith’s blunt sound of acknowledgment. A long pause between them.
“Since you won’t ask, yes, I do hate it when you pull me out.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Lilith is calm about terrible things. Not so much as an intake of breath at the sight of the scars on Ava’s legs the first time she was the only one around when Ava needed to pee. A strange thing to do with someone she essentially dislikes and also wants to taste in a very vague way that feels distinct from the more honest crush she has on Beatrice.
Ava scoffs. “Does it disappoint you, at least?”
“Do you want it to?”
Lilith finishes applying the weird, ice-cold gel that discourages scar tissue but seals blood in the cut. lets Ava’s silence wash over them both before looking up, darkly serious in her coldly beautiful way. Ava braces for a lecture, but Lilith just takes her in for a long moment.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Lilith stands, offers her hands as she always does before she carries Ava anywhere. Like there’s a choice in the matter. She speaks only when Ava is pressed flush against her, the tensile strength of Lilith’s arms evident in every step they take together toward the double bed, “Just be careful.”
Ava thinks of how often she’s exploded into pain and pixels, slipping off rooftops in Ezio’s body. Of the guard who opened her up from neck to navel with a huge axe. Of leaps of faith slightly misjudged.
i am also curious about AvaBeaLil Outline and intrigued by Saved in Phone Fic…???
I can't remember how AvaBeaLil Outline came about exactly, but it's the product of me wanting for a while to do a few different things I didn't have good ideas for (AvaBeaLil, secret dating, and fake dating) and realizing that they worked perfectly if I put them all together. Actress Ava and actress Lilith are romantic leads on a show for director/showrunner Bea. Lilith and Beatrice have been best friends forever and secretly in love but set it to the side because they both assumed it was unrequited. Ava and Beatrice grow closer during shooting and finally get together right after shooting wraps. Ava thinks Lilith hates her, Lilith thought Ava was cute at first but is incredibly jealous of her relationship with Bea and thinks she's unprofessional, but they both decide the best thing for the show, and Beatrice's career, is if they fake date and do a ton of fan service stuff (which means Avatrice stays secret). Everyone's jealous of everyone else, everyone's horny for everyone else, everyone either has or ultimately develops very deep feelings for everyone else. It's gonna be a blast.
Saved in Phone Fic is Ava leaves her phone at a coffee shop, someone calls Bea because Ava has her listed as “😍 BaBea 😍 👩❤️💋👩” .
“Do you think Ava and I are dating?”
“WHAT?!?” Camila’s shout drew the attention of the other patrons seated outdoors at their favorite breakfast spot, more than Lilith’s coughing fit at any rate.
Beatrice continued. “I got a call on my way here from Ava’s phone. She apparently left it at the coffee shop on the way to work. The barista thought I was Ava’s girlfriend because she had me listed in her phone as…” Beatrice inhaled deeply to steel herself. “...BaBea, as in B-A-B-E-A, with heart eyed emojis on either side of the name and three emoji of two women kissing. And I think she said a melting emoji, and then some crying emoji as well?”
This is very important to determine, because Beatrice can do new things if they're actually dating and she just didn't realize it. I feel like this was inspired by a Tumblr post or a Bluesky post, but I forgot to copy the link. Just a fun one-shot someday.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
i know the updates a little more spread out lately, but i try to only write when the mood strikes so i'm not forcing out anything i don't like i do love this fic tho, so expect more soon(ish) <3
For spicy prompts...hmm. Avatrice, of course (though naturally I accept AvaLil, BeaLil, and AvaBeaLil), however many you feel like:
Toxic jealousy (Ava "I'll self-harm if you let another woman touch you" Silva x Beatrice "I'll shout at you until you cry if you spend time with a man and pretend it's your fault" Nolastname)
First time the dam breaks on their friendship (bonus points if you somehow involve the breaking of a literal dam)
The hotel pool
Roleplaying, but like Dungeons and Dragons, not the other kind (actually now I really want this one)
Watersports, but like sports that take place in the water, not the other kind
thanks for the clarification lololol here's what i could do. i am going to go hide forever now 🙈(that's a lie, still got a couple more prompts to get to)
Lilith hadn't meant to fall asleep.
She'd only closed her eyes because the lounge chairs at the hotel's private pool were surprisingly comfortable - nothing to do with how Ava and Beatrice's splashing around had slowed, their voices softer, their touches lingering. Nothing to do with the twinge seeing them together caused in her heart.
She's not sure how long she slept but she knows that it was the sound of her name that woke her - followed by Ava's giggle and a murmured, "She's asleep."
Lilith's about to get up to put a stop to whatever tomfoolery they've gotten up to when she hears two distinct things: a wet sucking sound and a moan.
Lilith freezes.
Oh no.
Furious, she mentally admonishes herself for falling asleep. She has nowhere to go now - if she 'woke up,' she'd be subjected to teasing and who-knows-what. If she stayed 'asleep,' she could at least pretend none of this ever happened.
Another moan, louder than before.
That is, if Lilith could survive this.
She tries as much as possible to keep her breathing level, to keep her body from responding. But it's difficult with the sounds that seem to be coming right next to her. She tries not to picture anything but the black behind her eyelids but it only helps to serve as a blank canvas.
Despite herself, her mind tries to discern what's happening through sound alone. Beatrice gasping, on her back; on her knees. Ava hovering over her; behind her; taking as she pleases.
The lounge chair next to where Lilith is lying creaks slightly, accompanied by a hitched moan that is suddenly muffled.
Lilith whimpers.
Everything stops.
Oh fuck.
Before Lilith can contemplate throwing herself off of the roof, she hears Ava call out, "We know you're awake."
Still, she doesn't move. Not until she hears Beatrice, her voice shaking in a way Lilith has never heard before.
"Please, Lilith."
Her eyes open of their own accord. The sight that greets her is both better and worse than what she'd imagined: Ava sitting in the next lounge chair over, Beatrice sitting back into her. Beatrice's bikini top is barely hanging on by her neck, her chest bare and flushed and heaving. Lilith catches sight of the matching bottom at the foot of the long chair, but her attention is between Beatrice's legs where Ava's hands have been moving idly, spreading around the wetness there.
"Won't you play with us?" Ava asks, pressing her knowing grin to the side of Beatrice's neck. Beatrice arches into the touch, shudders when Ava adds her teeth. "I've only got two hands, you see."
And Lilith does - watches Ava's fingers circle around Beatrice's clit while her other hand drags her nails up Beatrice's side. Palms the underside of her breast in offering.
"Beatrice really needs something inside her," Ava continues, grin widening when Beatrice moans in agreement. "Something like your fingers."
It takes a moment for Lilith to realize how much she's trembling, how short her own breaths have become.
How much she wants this.
Wants them.
Something in her breaks - a dam, all of her tightly wound restraint - and then she's on the chair in front of Beatrice, kissing her messily. It spreads a fire through her veins, a fire that she has no idea how to release.
"Come on, Lilith, don't make her wait," she hears next to her ear. "Or do - she likes that too -"
Lilith doesn't, can't wait. She pulls back just enough to watch her own hands grip Beatrice's thighs and slide up to her hips, almost disbelieving when they buck against her. Fingers that she knows are hers curve inward, thumbs reaching to pull Beatrice apart.
Hears twin moans in response. She looks up to see both of them watching. Uses their eyes and the way Beatrice moans and the way Ava bites her own lip to guide her fingers, letting them slide against Beatrice, coating her fingers liberally.
But she has to look down for the next, to see it for herself: Her own two fingers slowly sliding in.
Somewhere in her mind, Lilith registers that the guttaral sound was from her, but further conscious thought is burned from her brain at the feel of Beatrice clenching around her. "Go faster, Lil," Ava growls, before tilting forward and kissing her briefly. "She's not going to last."
Lilith complies without question, has no reason not to when Beatrice is holding on to her so tightly, with both her hands and her cunt. Lilith feels something brush against her hand and glances down to see Ava's fingers rubbing frantically at Beatrice's clit.
And Beatrice -
Beatrice is a sight to behold.
Mouth open, eyes closed tight, head thrown back, glowing and moaning in the afternoon sun - she's pleasure incarnate, the wildest and freest Lilith has ever seen her. It makes Lilith grow more frenzied - wants to see more of this Beatrice, wants to see her break.
And she does.
Ava covers Beatrice's mouth just as she screams and it takes both Lilith and Ava bracketing her to keep her from falling - sliding, rather - off the chair, now drenched from how Beatrice had gushed. Lilith slows her touch as Beatrice's shaking starts to subside. Feels also the rush start to fade.
"Give me you hand, Lil."
Ava's voice is wrecked, but she holds the now limp Beatrice with a tenderness that brings back that twinge in Lilith's chest.
She mentally shakes the thought away, offers her hand. Ava, however, shakes her head. Nods downward. "The other one."
Lilith blinks. Slowly, she pulls her fingers free, shushes softly at Beatrice when she jerks and whines. Ava takes Lilith's hand by the wrist and lifts it to her mouth.
The rush returns with a vengeance when Ava's lips wrap around Lilith's fingers, so much so that it takes her a moment to register Beatrice's faint question. "Round two in the hotel room?"
Realizes that the question is being directed at her. Realizes what they want. That they still want her.
"Yeah," Lilith answers, the twinge in her chest now replaced with a flame.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: E [13k]
Summary:
when Ava meets Lilith, she thinks she's found the strangest thing there is. a 500-year old vampire who owns exactly two appliances: a blender (concerning) and a refrigerator (normal). Lilith who has, inexplicably, fallen in love with her.
and Ava's a physicist, so she does what she does. she takes notes, she makes measurements. she has a crappy tape recorder and a feeling that this might all end badly, but she's not about to let anyone forget it.
or, the interview with the vampire au
//
(i wanted to go)
Ava writes this later, in the notebook with the birds on it.
(and it wasn’t about how she took my hand and it felt like when you’re holding a match. watching the fire race toward your fingertips, fascinated. i always let it go, until it plunged me into shadow again. burns on my fingertips for years)
(i wanted to go)
Ava is so good at begging the question, flicking her tongue out to taste the cigarette-scent of this untidy kitchen. Neons overhead picking up the bulge of condensation on a beer bottle. she is thinking, in fact, about another kitchen. another beer bottle.
last night the girl who said she was a vampire had it balanced at the very edge of the table.
this amused her.
she is conscious, in her kitchen, that already this story begs the question. why? why go home with something impossible?
because i wanted to
but why, Ava? why did you want to?
(some burnings)
she writes so carefully now, with a sweet ache in her skin and her hands, poor physicians, disturbing the scabs on her neck, her wrist, underneath the slant of her ribs.
(are beautiful)
god, shut up.
because i wanted to.
her, specifically. to fuck her or to know her. to irritate her pretty mouth with the taste of cheap cigarettes.
