#brazilian beatrice

[izylly]

[teamoon7]

🇧🇷: Esses aqui (de 2021) foram uma tentativa de fazer uns icons

🇺🇸: Those (from 2021) were an attempt to make some icons

[egotenebrisper]

The thing about Avatrice's first kiss is

Ava knew since episode one that Bea has feelings for her. That she's in love.

And she also recognized Bea has internalized homophobia and might not be ready to admit it.

But if that was their last time together, Ava wants to reassure her, that Ava herself loves Bea.

She gave Bea the kiss as a gift but never expected anything from it. She's surprised when Bea correspond to the kiss. She's grateful too. And then all the emotions: pain, happiness, earning, sadness, love...

[mybrknhrtt]

‘‘i was all alone with the love of my life, she's got glitter for skin, my radiant beam in the night. i don't need no light to see you.’’

[starburst2000]

Behold, some StEx art I started in March and completed yesterday!

1st picture: Graceland (fem!Greaseball from the 2024 London production, or what I imagined her to look like), Tacitus (male!Tassita), Cherry (Red Dinah from some non-replicas) and Strike the Mail Van (1983 previews). Strike is based on the GWR Brake Post Office stowage van at Didcot, and his design is a mix between ouji and dark academia, very tweedy and brown.

2nd picture: my take on Carioca the Brazilian Engine from the Mexican production (added some elements found in Rio Carnival costumes worn by Samba dancers), Aisling and Swapna the 3rd and 2nd Class Sleepers (early London 1984 production, also my designs) and Beatrice the Double Decker Coach (Bi-Decker from the 1983 workshops). Beatrice's design is very late 1960's and Twiggy-ish, and wears tortoiseshell glasses.

[rimances]

Gotta be real, I’m tired of reading Brazilian portuguese when the character is supposed to be Portuguese! From PORTUGAL! It’s like you guys having an american unironically saying “Bloody hell, Katherine fucked up my kettle and my brolly in the same night! It’s all gone pear-shaped! My mum is going to kill me when she sees the state of this flat.” - Yes, this is about Avatrice, if you wanna make Ava portuguese, make her speak like a fucking portuguese person; there are like a couple billions of us online is not hard to ASK Also Beatice is BRITISH, why does she not say shit like FLAT?? Trousers??  Rubbish??

- No hate to my brazilian friends, it’s just SO easy to make her brazilian and not portuguese and not make me have an aneurysm 

[dehsenh0s]

Beatrice 🐦

[the-movies-free]

Click the url watch 👆🏻👆🏻

[scuderlia]

Deer Theory

WORDS: ‘The Deer’ by Terrance Hayes / ‘I’m Not Calling You a Liar’ (Florence + the Machine) / Aaron O’Hanlon /  The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017) dir. Yorgos Lanthimos / ‘The Stag and the Quiver’ by Richard Siken / mine / ‘Salvage’ by Hedgie Choi / ‘A Letter to My Mother That She Will Never Read’ by Ocean Vuong / ‘Little Deer’ (SPELLLING) / ‘Grendel’ by Roger Reeves / ‘Herd of ‘panicked’ deer filmed jumping to their deaths from motorway’ by Tanveer Mann (Metro UK) / ‘Kinder Than Man’ by Althea Davis / ‘Anecdote of the Pig’ by T. Adkisson / ‘Ferrari Drivers Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz Are Racing Back to the Top of F1’ by Tom Lamont (GQ Sports) / Deuteronomy 12:23 / ‘‘It’s a kind of religion’ - Ferrari’s popularity and following in Italy dissected’ by Akshat Kabra (Sportskeeda) / ‘Abstract (Psychopomp)’ (Hozier) / ‘Not Strong Enough’ (boygenius) / The Favourite (2018) dir. Yorgos Lanthimos / Enzo Ferrari / ‘Killer’ (Phoebe Bridgers) / CL for ‘Charles Leclerc talks about his “Red Passion”’ by Roberto Croci (L’Officiel Ibiza) / ‘The fragility of a predestined | FormulaPassion.it’ by admin_l6ma5gus (Pledge Times) / ‘Kinder Than Man’ by Althea Davis / Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House / ‘Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)’ (Florence + the Machine) / ‘Ferrari Needs to Sign Charles Leclerc for the 2018 Formula One Season’ by Gabriel Loewenberg (The Drive) IMAGERY: Styrian GP (2020) / ? (antlers) / ? (crown of thorns) / Scuderia Ferrari Press Office (2023) / @velvetbambi (x) / Saint Maud (2019) dir. Rose Glass / white-tailed buck shedding its antlers (via Deer & Deer Hunting) / Azerbaijan GP (Baku, 2019) / post-French GP (2022) / Jules Bianchi (via F1 TV) / George Shiras III for National Geographic (1906) / ? (young CL) / ‘Driver-Deer Collisions On The Rise: State Farm’ (WSLM RADIO) / Male Red Deer (antlers) / post-Bahrain GP (2019) (CL looking up from hands) / ‘roadkill’ by Loso (via Flickr) (x) / Saturn Devouring His Son (1819-23) Francisco Goya / post-Belgian GP (Spa, 2019) (CL pointing upwards) / The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) dir. Martin McDonagh / Italian GP (Monza, 2020) / Nathan Sandwell @cuchulainn-4 (x) / ? (camcorder) / ‘Deer Caught Gnawing on Human Bones’ by Jason Daley (Smithsonian Magazine) / A Fragment of Ourselves Returning (2018) Beatrice Wanjiku / @nightcorp-archive (x) / Brazilian GP (2023) (CL figure walking) / Singapore GP (2022) / post-Qatar GP (2021) / The Deer Hunter (1978) dir. Michael Cimino / ? (dogmouth doe) / Brazilian GP (2023) / French GP (2022)

[gryphon1232]

DRS Universe Info Post

Hey all! This is going to be a long post, and it's going to break down a lot of my work on the universe!

🛑What is the DRS Universe?

The DRS Universe is a connected fictional Formula One-centric universe. The history of the sport generally follows the real world counterpart, and for the most part, the world is kept as similar to the real world as possible, but things such as sponsors, drivers, teams, wins and events throughout the history of the sport are brand new.

🛑General Info/Q&A:

🛑Why does the DRS Universe Exist? I'm a very big fan of F1 and of Writing, and I wanted to mix those things together and write an F1-Based novel. I'm also a fan of creating OC's and having more control over what I write, so it was only natural that I'd make my own teams and drivers. That expanded to stuff like sponsors and some brands and companies in the universe, etc. I tried to keep the broader strokes of the sports history accurate to the real world as well, but I made new, fictional historic drivers, events, dates, etc. 🛑What is the current season? The current season as of the novel I'm currently working on (shunted) is 2023! 🛑What is Shunted about? Shunted focuses Lance Adams and Alexandre Lareaux, enemies-and-rivals turned teammates. It follows them as they navigate the 2023 season, and even worse for both of them depending on how you look at it, their newfound friendship and possible romance. 🛑Why are there 11 teams? Because more teams + more drivers + more cars on track = more fun. Also, because I wanted 11 teams, and it's my universe.

🛑What are the teams?

(This is a list based vaguely on each teams' performance throughout the 2022 season.)

Delphi Voltage Racing

Aurelia ABM F1 Team

Scuderia Rossetti

McGrath Racing

Hayworth Moore F1 Team

Cautiline-Aimé

Reinvoire GP

Pearsons Racing

Scuderia AltairShock

Modena-Roth

Hurst F1 Team

🛑Who are the drivers for the 2023 season?

(Drivers names are listed, followed by their driver number, nationality, age, birthdate, height, and first season in F1. If something hasn't been decided yet, there will be a "TBD" in that section, if a driver has won a WDC, there will be an "🏆" following their name.)

Delphi Voltage Racing:

Felix Akerson 20 • Swedish • 23 • TBD • TBD • 2020 Kennedy Grant 14 • American • 20 • TBD • TBD • 2023

Aurelia ABM F1 Team:

Annika Becker 🏆 33 • German • 37 • TBD • TBD • 2006 Émilien Rousseau 6 • French • 41 • TBD • TBD • 2001

Scuderia Rossetti:

Alexandre Lareaux 11 • Monégasque • 25 • 8/26/1998 • 5'9 • 2017 Lance Adams - 🏆 5 • British • 25 • 12/29/1998 • 5'11 • 2016

McGrath Racing:

Noah Landvin 8 • Belgian • 23 • 6/4/2000 • 5'7 • 2019 Jack Palmer 47 • Kiwi • 21 • TBD • TBD • 2022

Hayworth Moore F1 Team

Scarlette LaRosa 50 • Spanish • 22 • TBD • TBD • 2022 Beatrice Camelio 88 • Italian • 21 • TBD • TBD • 2022

Cautiline-Aimé

Connor O’Riley 77 • Irish • 26 • TBD • TBD • 2016 Owen Lancaster 76 • American • 20 • TBD • TBD • 2023

Reinvoire GP

Benjamin Accardi 4 • Australian • 32 • 5/24/1991 • 6'0 • 2013 Mateo Vassallo 44 • Mexican • 24 • 5/17/1999 • 5'8 • 2017

Pearsons Racing

Giang Mai Linh 99 • Vietnamese • 25 • TBD • TBD • 2018 Vincent Fortin 28 • Canadian • 25 • TBD • TBD • 2017

Scuderia AltairShock

Matthew Coleman 16 • British • 19 • TBD • TBD • 2022 Toru Kajima 81 • Japanese • 18 • TBD • TBD • 2023

Modena-Roth

Cláudio Amaral - 🏆 21 • Brazilian • 43 • 8/17/1980 • 5'7 • 2000 Marco De Caro 61 • Italian • 24 • 1/19/1999 • 6'0 • 2018

Hurst F1 Team

Martijn Van Hall 24 • Dutch • 36 • TBD • TBD • 2009 Charles Stafford 58 • British • 42 • TBD • TBD • 2001

I leave you with this little piece of art/graphic design I did to introduce my drivers!

The Results of the 2023 Formula 1 Chronex Australian Grand Prix:

[princessgwens2]

Get to know Gwen!

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

🌠 Hiiiii! I'm a lovely soon-to-be-professional singer who would love to be your friend, so come know me better!

☆ My name's Gwendolyn, but you can call me Gwen!

☆ I'm 18 years old!

☆ I'm a very proud poly femme lesbian (and I love my butch boyfriend so so much ~<3)!

☆ I'm brazilian! (refugee from twitter because elon musk's a megalomaniac clown)

☆ I'm 150 cm tall, or about 4'11, and I'm ENFP!

☆ I have ADHD and (maybe) autism, and you might find me suddenly ranting about a random topic I never mentioned before because I just watched a two-hour youtube video essay about it

☆ I'm fluent in english and portuguese, can handle myself a bit in spanish and am learning japanese as well!

☆ While I'm still not pro, I'm an awesome singer and one day I'll be a star!

☆ I'm multiple! There's actually three Gwens sharing this here body, but the other two are a bit shy so I'm usually fronting

☆ Here are some of my special interests (in no particular order): Literally anything yuri, nintendo games and lore, project sekai and vocaloids, lolita fashion and other adjacent subcultures (such as jirai or girly kei), tabletop RPGs, soulslike games, plushies, makeup, everything animation (especially ghibli and disney movies), cosplay, valorant (mostly the pro scene), strategy games, the NFL, sanrio characters, cooking (especially sweet things!), cozy games and the crazy number of things you can do with coffee (except for actual black coffee because it's so bitter ew)

☆ Some of my kinnies: Mizuki, Mafuyu, Minori, Saki and Emu from Project Sekai | Mabel from Gravity Falls | Fluttershy from MLP Friendship is Magic | Beatrice from RE:Zero | Moa from Show by Rock! | Furina from Genshin Impact | Spinel from Steven Universe | Akko from LWA | Entrapta from She-ra | Star and Eclipsa Butterfly from SVTFOE | Gwen and Lillia from League of Legends | Gwenpool from Marvel Comics | For some reason so many characters that share my name also get me

☆ My all-time favorite music artists (again, no particular order): Mumford and Sons, Fall Out Boy, Avril Lavigne, Chappell Roan, Green Day, P!nk, The Lumineers, Reinaery, Annapantsu, Chloe Breez, Lydia the Bard, The Moody Blues, Ariana Grande, Imagine Dragons, Legião Urbana, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, The Killers, Genesis (pre-Duke), Capital Inicial, Bon Jovi, Counting Crows, Hatsune Miku and all the groups from Project Sekai (especially niigo)!

☆ Conservatives DNI!

☆ I will add a linktree here when I get the motivation to make it!

[littlestsnicket]

title: a tall dark stranger by A

word count: .9k

beatrice baudelaire, the great unknown, brazilian folklore, the very best crack treated seriously premise ever known. (i think i recced this during woevember but i’m reccing it again)

excerpt:

“I don’t know where they came from, but when I saw them, they were walking from the direction of the water. At first I couldn’t see anything but a tall, distant shadow. Then I identified a long coat, and a hat, and the overall shape reminded me of someone I once loved very much.

“I blinked a few times. It indeed was not that person, but someone else I had never seen. I could feel their scent, which was not much different from the scent the wind brought from the sea. They were walking right in my direction, for reasons I could not understand. I shivered.

[lemony-letterz]

meet me!

hi! my name is Lilith Beatrice Lemony, but you can call me Lemony. i'm genderfluid and i use she/he/they pronouns!

first things first, i'm brazilian, so my first language is portuguese, not english. you can correct me if i write anything wrong.

in this blog i'll talk about books, any academia aesthetic, a serie of unfortunate events & snicket's universe and maybe about study. sometimes i write poems and thoughts.

i prefer to write in english because tumblr is not that popular in brazil and i want to meet another person who like same things that i like. but, if you talk in portuguese, if you prefer, i'll talk in portuguese with you!

thats all, i hope you enjoy my blog!

[queerryan]

Queer book recommendation

Welcome to LGBT: Buy a candy or Fuck off by Victor Pereira Marra

A series of completely unreal coincidences unites an unusual group of people. Larissa, Greg, Beatrice and Tommy have their own issues to resolve in a world where at any moment you could be attacked by armed leprechauns or a criminal group of cosplayers. Still, it shouldn't be so hard to manage this alongside a simple candy cart, right?

The representation: all of the characters are queer, literally each one is one letter of LGBT. Larissa is lesbian, Greg is Gay, Beatrice is Bisexual and Tommy is trans. There's also asexual representation and POC representation. Greg and Larissa develop a relationship with other people. + The story is set in Brazil so all the characters are latinos

More about the characters here

This book is a comedy written by an indie Brazilian author so while you read you can help him too, buying the book or reading on Kindle Unlimited (it's free on KU)

[noteveryoneis]

i built a home (for you; for me) aka Avatrice as Hogwarts teacher part 2

I'm alive. Barely, but hey, what else is new? If you want to read this on ao3, the title is the same.

Also, I wanted to tell you guys about the lovely art @hamusammich has made on twitter based on the first part. It made me go feral with happiness, not gonna lie

Specifically, this is the thread, go check out their account!:

Anyways. I don't speak portuguese so feel free to correct my mistakes. I wrote this while agressively listening to Little Girls by Cameron Diaz, it's an actual bop.

I have no idea what this is.

...

...

...

Thisisn'tthelastparteitherbye!

Beatrice walks into the room and knows immediately that this is going to be a long night.

The lights are bright and cold and white and it hurts right behind her eyes. People are talking, fake smiles plastered on their faces, chin raised with their sufficient expression like they know that their family's blood is as pure as water. Everything reeks of money and gold and dark magic and Beatrice already feels nauseous. The dress her mother chose for her is itchy and she feels like a child who played with their mother's makeup, and she wants to run and to hide and to burn that dress and let the ashes smear her face.

Bernard is gripping her arm so tight she can see spots of white slowly fading away in her flesh when he lets go. 'Behave,' he says, but he doesn't say it like Beatrice used to when Melanie was drunk and trying to kiss her in front of everyone with giggles.

She feels their parents cold gaze on her when they enter the room but Beatrice doesn't have the strenght to fake a smile on her face. She settles for looking around in silence, nodding politely when someone greets her.

Beatrice is nineteen years old, and she already feels like she has ruined her own life. She's trapped. Everything in her screams to run away, that this is wrong, terribly and profoundly wrong.

She knows why they're here, but she doesn't understand how her presence is required.

They're in America, and they're here for business. Magical business, faith business, deciding-of-the-faith-of-the-world business.

There has been rumors of a girl. A girl that fought Dark forces before she could even drink (legally), that dueled with dark wizards before she even had her first period, that has powers no one has ever heard of. The Young family has been sent as high-placed guests, but really they're just here to make sure this isn't another Harry Potter situation.

Harry Potter has saved the world, but a lot of people think that there would be no saving needed if it wasn't for him — Beatrice's family, mainly. The British Ministry of Magic would rather be caught dead than dealing with another Harry Potter. 'The New Areala', they whisper in the corridors of the Ministry, because that's what people in America call her, comparing her to another brazilian witch that shook the magical world's core a long time ago. Beatrice wonder what it would feel like to have their own name whispered instead, and not just 'Areala' or 'the Young girl'.

A boy with the word 'Pure-Blood' written on the wrinkles of his face tries to talk to her and Beatrice does what she does best: she avoids. She retreats by the table and watches as bubbles of champagne rise to the air.

A soft hand lands on her arm and she jumps a little, but it's a girl, tall and with the face of a model, that looks like she could be anywhere but here. 'Here, honey,' she says, shoving what seems like a glass of Firewhisky in her hand and her voice is deep and calm and Beatrice doesn't shy away. 'You look like you need it.'

And then she's gone, the clicking of her heels echoing in Beatrice's head and she doesn't ask why she's even here, she who could do way better than that.

She looks at the contents of her glass, hesitates. She's never drunk alcohol, no matter how many times Melanie tried to get her to. She didn't want to end up like her, she couldn't let her guard down and anyways, they needed someone to take care of Melanie when she was like this.

Before she can even realize what she's doing, she's tilting her head back and drowning the whiskey. Her throat burns and her eyes water and she coughs into her fist.

A hand grabs her arm violently and Beatrice's eyes are too blurry to see but she knows who it is. 'What are you doing?' Bernard stabs into her heart.

Beatrice doesn't know what to answer, she just wants him to let go of her, her arms already hurt from earlier and he's just putting more finger-shaped bruises on top of the others.

Suddenly, he is hit from the side and lets go of her and Beatrice takes a step away.

"Desculpe!" A girl says, bringing a hand to her mouth and then onto Bernard's arm, squeezing apologetically, and Beatrice sees the tip of her wand in her sleeve, and there is a big stain of whatever was in her glass on Bernard's immaculate shirt. "Sinto muito! Eu não tinha visto você, estava muito ocupado com a batida do seu—"

"Alright, alright, I don't care," Bernard huffs in annoyance before turning to Beatrice. "You, don't move."

That's all she is now. A 'you', not a little sister who needs his help.

He walks away, probably going to wash his shirt, and the girl puts her glass back on the table.

Beatrice feels a hand slip into hers.

"Come one," the girl says.

She doesn't have time to ask how she can speak English, that the girl is pulling her away, grazing the wall until she finds a window and opens it, jumping into the night. Beatrice looks at the distance between the edge of the window and the ground — There's a terrace so it's not that big — and back to the room where her parents are talking to a man with gray hair and glasses, then onto the girl who beckons her to follow, a smile on her face.

Beatrice swings her legs outside, drapes her dress over her arm and lets herself fall on the terrace. The girl laughs, leading her to the stone stairs, and sits on a step and Beatrice sits next to her, keeping a reasonable distance between them.

It's chilly out there but the Firewhisky coursing through Beatrice's veins keeps her warm, almost too warm. She's burning up.

The girl next to her is young, probably a little younger than Beatrice herself. She's wearing a strange dress that sparkles into the night and dips into her chest, exposing her neck and her collarbone. Her hair is messy, untidy, so much that Beatrice thinks it might be a conscious choice, but her face is one of an angel, with dark doe eyes that hold all that is good in this world.

"Oh uh... Hey, is this yours?" The girl asks, fumbling with her words and her hands, voice leaking with a delicious accent that Beatrice cannot place, before reaching into her sleeve and extricating a wand that Beatrice recognizes as hers from her sleeve.

Bernard took it that morning.

"Yes I... How did you—" Beatrice says finally, reaching out to take it back, and it feels like she can breathe a little better.

"The guy that was with you. He already had his wand pocking out of his pocket, pretty sure he only needs one."

Beatrice cradles her wand to her chest, like a child that she has lost.

"Thank you," she whispers into the night, and the girl smiles, and suddenly it's not night anymore. It's summer and the world is bright and warm and full of noise.

"No problem. No offense, but he seems like a douche."

Beatrice can't stop herself fast enough from letting out a snort of laughter. She quiets down immediately, retreating back onto herself. The girl's smile turns upside down in a grimace.

"Sorry. I put my foot in my mouth again, like you English say. I'm Ava," she says, and she presents her hand towards her.

Beatrice hesitates, she's not supposed to talk to people unless she's being watched closely by a family member. Yet, she reaches out into the sun and puts her palm into Ava's.

She doesn't believe in love at first sight. Melanie had told her that French people talk about 'coup de foudre', like love is a thunderbolt that hits unexpectedly and mercilessly. She doesn't believe in that either.

And yet, when Ava smiles as she squeezes her hands, Beatrice feels like she's being pulled under the sun too.

"Beatrice."

Ava wiggles from where she's seated, and Beatrice realizes that the girl is always moving (eyes, hands, shoulders and feet and hips).

"So, you come here often?"

Beatrice doesn't even have time to react that the girl is already burying her face in her hands, mumbling something like 'Porra JC, sua vadia estúpida', before looking back up.

"Sorry. Chanel says I always lose my ability to act human around pretty girls and I keep proving her right."

Pretty girl?

Beatrice's brain screams and jumps against the walls of her skull and she wants to bolt into the night and never look back.

"Have you been hit with a Babbling Curse?" Is all that comes out of her mouth.

Ava pauses for a second, then she laughs, and a shiver runs along Beatrice's uncovered spine.

"Nah, sorry, this is just my default setting. Uh... Wait a second."

She vaguely turns around to give herself some privacy, but Beatrice still sees her reach into her cleavage and hold out a folded napkin containing something, and when Ava unwraps it, she's presented with a small pumpkin pasty.

"Uh... Peace offering?"

Beatrice looks at the food in front of her, wondering when Ava is going to laugh and explain that this is just a well imagined joke ('But from who?' Beatrice wants to ask.) but she doesn't, looking at Beatrice with a lopsided smile and Beatrice gives in.

"Won't you go hungry?" She asks, and Ava smirks, like she knows every secret in the world.

"English," she says, and the nickname makes the hair on the back of Beatrice's neck stand up as Ava reaches once more into her cleavage and Beatrice looks away, quick quick quick, "I've got two boobs."

Beatrice turns back to her and Ava is holding two pumpkin pasties wrapped in napkins, giving her her mischevious grin, and Beatrice can't help it, she laughs. She laughs as she hasn't in weeks, months, years. She laughs because she's outside with a girl she doesn't know, hiding from her family that would kill her for just doing that, and that the girl is the strangest and most beautiful thing that happened to her in the last few months.

She laughs and she takes the extended pasty in her hand and Ava grins as she thanks her.

Ava keeps talking and Beatrice keeps listening, and it's like they both feat in each other's space, like the world around them adjusted itself to let them be in each other's presence.

Ava tells her about her childhood and the stains on the ceiling that looked like David Bowie (Beatrice has no idea of who that is but Ava laughs and therefore so does she). She tells her about the orphanage she was in, skipping quickly to a brighter time. She tells her how she was paralyzed for most of her life but that one day, she woke up in the middle of the night needing a glass of water and simply got up to get it. She only realized what was happening when she got to the sink, and promptly fainted. The nuns found her the next morning right as 'Professor Vincent' showed up to take her to Castelobruxo ('Thank God he did,' Ava says, licking pumpkin from her fingers. 'I was living with nuns. Don't think the whole Jesus thing would have stuck with me.')

She tells her about the golden rock that was Castelobruxo and how she became friends with the Caipora and raised Hell with her other friends. How they would fly to the top of the castle and have picnics and yell their sorrows into the wind. How they raised each other, because nobody else was doing it for them. She tells her that she used to play Quidditch and asks if Beatrice has ever played, and Beatrice barely whispers that she hasn't flown in a while.

Ava paints colors in front of Beatrice and lights up the sun into the night and Beatrice just watches, quiet and peaceful, for once.

Ava unclips her shoes and leaves them on the stone of the stairs as she rises, waving her hand as she explains that her friends followed her right into the world and its dangers. 'But really,' she says, laughing like it doesn't matter, like it's funny, 'they just came for the food.'

She doesn't realize how much time has passed until she feels something fall on her shoulder and roll down her back — cold and wet and fluid. There is rain slowly starting to pour over them, and Beatrice freezes, because she can already feel her mother's palm hitting her face when she'll find out she has ruined the dress she forced her to wear. She needs to find shelter before things get worse, before the world ends and Beatrice falls right back into Hell.

But Ava laughs, spreads her arms out and spins, her strange dress flowing around her.

"Rain!" She yells into the night. "Fucking rain!"

Beatrice doesn't even think about chastising her for her language, she just smiles as Ava whirls around the terrace, standing on her tip-toes, light and airy and wild. She watches and she wishes she were that free.

Then Ava twirls back to her, extends her hands.

"Come on!"

Beatrice's senses come back to her and she shakes her head.

"I don't dance."

"Everyone can dance, trust me, I was paralyzed for most of my life."

Beatrice purses her lips.

"Mother says it's unproper."

'For women to dance together,' she wants to add, but doesn't find the strength in herself to do so. She is an adult woman and yet she sounds like a child.

Ava pretends to look around, her hand shielding her eyes.

"I don't see her there."

And so Beatrice takes her outstretched hands in hers, kicks off her heels and laughs as Ava spins them around, light on her toes. Ava lets go of one of her hands, taking a few steps back to bow respectfully to her, bringing Beatrice hand to her lips to leave a feather-like kiss on her knuckles.

"Milady," she says, rising up with a teasing smile and Beatrice burns bright red even through the cold rain. "Will you do me the honor of granting me this dance?"

"Stop it," Beatrice hisses back, and Ava laughs.

She puts a hand on Beatrice's shoulder, leading hers onto her shoulder and keeping her other hand in hers, arms to the side. And they begin to dance. There is rhythm, no rules or custom, they just trip on each other's feet, laugh and stumble as they catch themselves to each other. Ava takes her hand off Beatrice's waist and makes her twirl while holding her arm out over her, and Beatrice just melts.

She forgot the taste of her own smile on her lips.

When Ava trips and swears and throws her arms around Beatrice shoulders, latching herself onto her body to keep herself upwards, she doesn't push her away. She blames the alcohol still in her system as she wraps an arm around her waist, laughing.

It's as she looks into Ava's doe eyes that the world explodes once again.

Because there are flakes of snow in her eyelashes and as Beatrice reaches out to take them off, she realizes that snow if falling onto them.

It’s June.

She shivers into the cold, watching as Ava's face looses her smile and her eyebrows knit together.

"Is it always this cold this time of the year?" She asks stupidly.

Ava looks at her with a nervous look in her eyes.

"English. This is New York. Not Washington."

Beatrice's teeth are clattering together now as Ava looks around and she feels her stomach drop, for some reason.

"Fuck," Ava says. "We gotta get you back inside."

She drags Beatrice to the glass door, trying to turn the handle and then muttering spells when it doesn't open.

"Fuck," Ava repeats. "Fuck. This is not good."

"Ava," Beatrice says.

"JC!" Ava yells, pounding her fist on the door. "JC, you fucker, open!"

"Ava."

"JC! Zori, Randall, Chanel! Need some help here!"

"Ava."

Finally, Ava turns to her and Beatrice raises a shaking hand to point a finger towards the park.

Figures covered in black are floating over them, riding the waves of freezing cold that is settling into their bones, dark capes drifting behind them.

"Fuck!" Ava says. "Fuck!"

Beatrice is frozen on the spot by both cold and fear as Ava grabs her by the arm and literally throws her behind her, placing herself in between the dementor and Beatrice as she raises her wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A ball of silver light shoots from her wand and barrels into the chest of the first dementor that flies away with a low shriek.

"Expecto Patronum!" Ava yells again as another takes its place, still trapping Beatrice in between her own body and the wall.

The light misses the dementor this time and Beatrice reaches out to put a hand on her back, muttering her name under her breath.

Ava stills for a second with Beatrice's hand between her shoulder blade, stuttering.

Ava is so warm the ice melts off of Beatrice's fingertips.

And so Beatrice finds the strength to raise her wand with a shaky hand and mutter the words: "Expecto Patronum."

A silver cat jumps from the stream of light and chases after the dementor, but Beatrice is too busy trying not to freeze to death to feel ashamed — 'It should have been a dragon, an Abraxan or at the very least a snake, not some ridiculous cat.'

The cat jumps gracefully around them, warding of the dementors as Ava gasps, looking at it with wonder and amazement in her eyes. It only lasts for a few seconds. One moment Beatrice is gathering all her energy into the spell, grasping for happy memories that she cannot find —the girl she's laughing with doesn't have Melanie's face anymore and she doesn't understand why —, the next she's falling, Ava calling her name in panic as she tries to catch her.

The floor is freezing cold under her bare back, and Beatrice can't even appreciate the sight of Ava looking over her, her name on her lips, as the dementors close in.

"Shit, fuck, shit!" Ava yells. "Stay with me, Beatrice, stay with me!"

She's terrified and she wants to cry, but her tears just turn into ice behind the barrier of her eyes. Ava puts a knee to the ground, next to her waist, and grips Beatrice's hand in hers, the other holding out her wand to the air as the dementor start circling over them.

"Please don't freak out," she whispers for Beatrice, before looking up at the sky. "Expecto Patronum!"

Light shoots out from her wand, flying up and charging towards the dementors.

It's a Thestral. Beatrice knows because she was the only twelve year old to scream and run and hide in her prefect's robe when she made her way back to the castle that second year. Because she's been drawing them inside her minds since that moment, remembering every angle of their skeletic forms. Because she's one with the Thestral and they are one with her and she has wished too many times to be one of them.

Ava screams as she holds out her wand in the air, directing the silver Thestral to chase after the dementors, still squeezing Beatrice's hand.

She's glowing, enveloped in a golden haze and Beatrice can only look, amazed and astonished as Ava yells her rage into the night and doesn't stop before all of the Dementors are gone. Only then does she falter and almost fall on Beatrice, blowing out an exhausted breath.

"I'm sorry," she whispers against Beatrice's cheek. "They were here for me."

A cry echoes around them and a boy falls from the first floor's window, followed by a few other young men and women.

"Help is on the way, dear!" He yells, raising his wand as they make their way to Ava and Beatrice has the feeling the phrase has a meaning she can't decipher.

"Ava!" Another says, dropping to his knees beside them. "Are you okay?"

"Stop fretting over her, pretty boy, she can take care of herself," someone says, and Beatrice recognizes the girl that gave her the Firewhisky.

"JC, about time," Ava groans, helping Beatrice sit up.

"The doors were locked from the inside, there was nothing we could do," the boy says, and he has dark hair and dark eyes that look over Ava, searching for wounds, before falling on Beatrice. "Hi. Do we know you?"

"Nah, look at her," another girl says. "She's from the Englishs."

"Zori, seriously," the girl with the model face says.

"What were you guys doing?" Ava says, a hand ghosting over Beatrice's hair, as if she is blindly trying to find injuries.

"Well," JC says, "we saw the stunt you pulled to get the girl out of here — impressive, by the way, I feel like a proud mama duck — and we thought you deserved a break with a pretty girl."

"The pretty girl would like to get up now, please," Beatrice says, and surprises herself at how firm her voice sounds, even after almost fainting because of Dementors.

Ava chuckles at JC's surprised face and they all rise to their feet, helping each others. Ava's knees almost give up under her and Beatrice and JC both reach out to help her at the same time — she hears the other boy (Randall?) sneering from a few steps away.

"What's going on here?!"

Beatrice feels a terrifying shiver going up her spine as wizards and witches exit the building onto the terrace to observe the disaster of melted ice left by the Dementors, her family all but charging towards them.

Ava must feel the waves of fright emanating from her as she steps up, and when she staggers, Beatrice lets JC catch her without moving a single finger.

"It was me, ma'am," she says, and all eyes turn on her. "Dementors came for us."

"Are you sure?" A man asks, and Beatrice recognizes the man with the graying beard and round glasses that was talking to her parents.

"Professor Vincent," Ava breathes out in relief. "Yes sir, Dementors just straight up spawned in the park and tried to suck out our souls or something."

"You need a soul for that," Randall chips in, and the tall girl (Chanel, Beatrice thinks) smacks him in the back of the head.

Professor Vincent shakes his head and Beatrice's heart thrums in her ears because she realizes Ava has no reason to be here and yet she is, yet she just told her her whole life story and Beatrice still didn't connect the dots.

"Ava Silva," he says, "you always find a way to get yourself in trouble."

Ava giggles.

"More like trouble finds me, sir."

"Ava Silva," Beatrice's mother repeats. "As in 'The New Areala'?"

Beatrice's stomach drops and she tightens her grip against her wand as Ava's face breaks for a second, showing an annoyed expression, before quickly hiding behind a polite smile.

"In the flesh, ma'am," she says.

"Ava," Professor Vincent says, frowning like Ava really shouldn't be calling her 'ma'am', "this Mr. and Mrs. Young from England, as well as their son and well— I believe you already met their daughter."

All eyes turn to Beatrice in her ridiculous dress, still drenched from head to toes with icy water, and she wants to dig a hole in the ground and bury herself here. Ava sends her a surprised look and they both think the same thing 'Well played, you got me here', before turning back to Beatrice's parents.

"Oh, right! Thank God your daughter was here, I would have been either frozen to death or turned into a soulless corpse if it wasn't for her!"

They all know it's a lie, but nobody is going to refute 'Areala''s words, after all. Her father frowns.

"But Beatrice doesn't have her—" He starts as Bernards pats his blazer to find her wand that Beatrice is tightly gripping, but her mother stops him, an iron hand on his arm.

"Oh. I found it on the ground," Ava says. "It must have fallen from her... Dress?"

Again, nobody believes it, but Ava's lies are too big to fight against.

"Alright, well, we better go. Let's go, Beatrice," she hisses at her daughter, and Beatrice hesitates for a quarter of a second.

Ava and her friends are all looking at her. 'Please,' she wants to scream. 'Please get me out of their claws. I won't survive this.'

"Beatrice," her father repeats, and Beatrice puts her weapons down.

She walks up to them, eyes lowered to the ground not to see the look of pity on Ava's face and to blink away the tears that threaten to spill.

She feels warmth on her skin as she passes in front of Ava, but it's gone the next step.

She does get slapped for ruining the dress and embarassing the family and smelling faintly of alcohol and she gets sent to her room like a disobeying child. She cries as she takes off her dress, but smiles when she finds a tiny piece of napkin tucked into her sleeve, with a little smiley face drawn on it.

[biribaa]

what's the op ai?

The OP AI AU is a AU I did based around the Brazilian TTRPG called "Ordem Paranormal". It's the same thing as the rpg HOWEVER, instead of the normal characters in the serie, they are replaced with AIs from fiction

For example: HAL 9000 being Dante, SAL 9000 being Beatrice, PAL being Elizabeth, CRASH being Thiago, etc