#I SAID I WOULD WRITE MY OWN BEAUYASHA CONTENT FOR THAT SCENE SO HERE IT IS FOLKS

[beauregardlionett]

maybe i, maybe i don’t

AO3 Link

Ever since she had broken Obann's charm over her mind with that peaceful scene on the beach of Nicodranas, Beau had felt an inexplicable pull towards the water, the warm sand, and the calming wash of waves against the surf. Finally being there, with easy access and two days to burn, Beau didn't think twice before packing up a bag and disappearing from the Chateau. Briefly, the monk had considered asking if anyone wanted to tag along, but she knew that this was rare – this downtime. Everyone would spend it how they wished, and Beau felt she had no right to infringe upon their time with a request so selfish.

She figured it was good practice for later – for when they all inevitably split ways and she was left alone again. It was going to be a hard transition; she wouldn't kid herself with that. Almost a year together, and potentially more spread out before them, abruptly being left behind would be massively disorienting. Beau had gotten used to falling asleep squished in between bodies in the hut, or at the very least with Jester sprawled beside her, and waking up to quiet chatter and the smell of whatever Caduceus was whipping up.

Sitting on the beach, perched on her bedroll and staring out over the cresting and dipping whitecaps, entirely alone, Beau kind of hated it all. She hated the silence broken by the sound of waves, hated the chill on either side of her, and hated most of all how her chest ached with loneliness despite the fact that she could easily head back to the group and rectify that hollowness.

But she convinced herself that would be selfish, that she needed the practice in being alone.

The sound of Yasha's harp cut through the raucous silence.

Soothing, fumbling, and familiar, Beau didn't realize her eyes had started to water until she turned her head to look in the direction of the noise. She blinked against the dampness building against her lower lids and pretended it wasn't there. For a brief moment, she considered getting up and following the sound, but then remembered why she was out here, remembered that would be selfish of her to infringe upon Yasha's time alone when they had it so rarely these days.

Forcing her gaze away from the direction of Yasha's playing, Beau instead cast her eyes out across the sea again and made herself be content with letting the sound surround her and took comfort in what she could.

Really, what was she going to do after the Mighty Nein inevitably split up – assuming she survived to see it? She knew that the Cobalt Soul would always be open to her, and there was no way in hell Beau would find her way back to her parents' house, not after everything. She could always just be like Dairon and throw herself into her work, fade into obscurity so deeply that her friends would never hear from her again unless she wanted them to. That...that didn't sound so bad, because she doubted they would actually want anything to do with her once they left her behind. Because when they left, that meant they were done tolerating her bullshit.

It would be selfish to pull them back.

Beau was always selfish – so selfish. Maybe it was time to start fixing that. Maybe they wouldn't leave her behind so abruptly if she did.

"Beau?"

Too late, the monk realized that the sound of the harp had ceased and she hadn't heard the soft hush of sand giving way under Yasha's approach, so lost in her deprecating thoughts. Her head jerked up and around to look at the Aasimar in response, forgetting to dry her eyes and hide the evidence of her tears before she did.

Yasha’s brow furrowed and Beau cursed at herself quietly, moving to wipe her cheeks dry and forced out the fakest sounding laugh she had ever heard. But she tried to forge on anyway, not wanting to confront this right now.

“Sorry…I didn’t hear you coming. I got some salt in my eyes from the spray, y’know?” Maybe Yasha would be gracious enough to accept that bullshit excuse, because honestly if she had fed that to anyone else in the Nein, they would see right through her.

Yasha stayed standing for a few quiet heartbeats before she decidedly sat on the sand next to Beau's bedroll and tugged her harp free from her belt again. Without saying anything, the Aasimar started quietly strumming an aimless tune, her mismatched eyes staring out over the lazy waves ahead of them. This tune was a little less fumbling than the one Beau had borne witness to earlier, a little quieter, but no less soothing. Not entirely sure what to make of this, she turned her gaze back towards the water and shut her eyes, let the sound of the harp interwoven with the crash of waves against the surf completely ensconce her. Beau found it a little easier to breathe after that, a little easier to stop her tears and push away the thoughts that held an iron grip on her chest.

They stayed like that for a while longer, Yasha's aimless tune eventually tapering off to leave them sitting in companionable, easy silence. At some point, Beau opened her eyes and found herself content to just watch the water with Yasha, a silent sentinel at her side. Eventually, though, Beau turned to look at the Aasimar and gave her a quiet, "thank you."

Yasha glanced her way, mismatched eyes soft and understanding – not a hint of judgment to be found.

Thank you for not judging me.

Oh, have you seen me? Who am I to fucking judge?

"Of course, Beau," Yasha all but whispered. "Are you feeling any better?"

Huffing softly at the unintentionally loaded question, Beau glanced away again towards the surf and offered a noncommittal, one-shoulder shrug. Her chest felt a little less tight, but the underlying crux of the problem was still there: her friends would one day leave her and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"Yeah," Beau lied. Yasha gave her a quiet, significant look, and Beau knew that she would not get away with her lying this time. She offered that same shrug again and sat quietly, feeling the heavy weight of Yasha's eyes on her profile. Deflating under the weight of it after a quiet minute, Beau caved and started talking.

"It's really nothing, Yash. I just keep thinking about what to do when all of this is over, y'know? I guess I'm just stuck on this thought of what do I do after we all part ways. It’s gonna be really lonely, and it’s just something I’m having a hard time rectifying."

"You sound so certain that we won't stick together, or at least keep in touch." Beau looked at Yasha with open surprise and confusion warring in her expression. Did Yasha really think they would stick together in the end? Or was it just wishful thinking?

"I mean, Veth has got her family, and she's always talking about going home to them. Jester misses her mom literally all the time and Caduceus will probably go home eventually – I mean you heard him the other day. He said all that stuff about how he hoped we would all come to him to be put in the ground. He's expecting to go home at some point."

"What about Fjord? Caleb? Me? We don't have homes to go to."

For some reason, that comment made Beau feel like shit. She was here bemoaning and fretting about her future when she did have somewhere to go – and three of her friends had no home at all.

"I uh...shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"No, that's not what I meant," Yasha cut her off, expression pinching in the way it usually did when she knew she had been misunderstood. "I just meant that not all of us are trying to leave – because we have no where to go."

That was...not something Beau had thought about before. Blinking quietly for a moment, she then turned bodily towards Yasha and asked, "what would you do – where would you go – if this group dissolved in the next few weeks?"

Seemingly caught off guard by the questions being turned her way, Yasha looked away and seemed to ponder over her answer for a few minutes, quiet and still. Beau took the chance to eagerly soak in Yasha's profile, studying the sharp curve of the Aasimar's nose, the slope of her chin, the way her matted, dreaded hair fell around her shoulders. She was a study in silence and stoicism with a surprisingly soft center that Beau knew she was privileged to bear witness to.

Beau was staring – and she knew she was – but Yasha was beautiful and she couldn't help it.

"I suppose," Yasha started, and Beau twitched out of her reverie at the sudden sound. "I would stay with whoever would have me. Or if no one would, I'd follow the Stormlord's direction."

She turned her gaze back toward Beau and asked, "what about you?"

"Ha...who knows, honestly. The Soul could probably always use me somewhere, and I wouldn't go back to Kamordah even if someone paid me. Honestly, I wouldn't settle down. Not yet."

Yasha nodded, looking contemplative. Beau wondered what was going through her head, but refrained from asking. The pair ended up sitting silently in this way for a while longer, the droning wash of crashing waves to keep their quiet company. Beau could feel the tension near consistently wound into the muscles of her shoulders start to ease and fade. Yasha's companionable quiet, her easy understanding of silence between people being okay, left no room for Beau to worry about saying the wrong thing or not saying the right thing. All she had to do was sit and be, and it was easier than any meditation she had ever attempted.

"You know," Beau started after a long while, the moons hanging in the sky above them now. Her voice sounded so loud after so little words exchanged. "You'd be more than welcome to come with me wherever I ended up."

Yasha took a pause of a moment to look sideways at the monk as a tiny smile crept cautiously at the edges of her lips. Her mismatched eyes were glowing tentatively with fondness tinged in hope. Beau tried to recall if her chest always fluttered like this when Yasha looked at her.

"I'd like that," Yasha agreed softly, her fingers running absently over the taught strings of the harp – not making music but just feeling the length of the strings. "It sounds nice."

Beau grinned – not her usual sharp, dangerous one, but gentle and easy and agreeable. It felt like a promise, sounded like hope for a future she had previously been terrified of. It wouldn't be the Nein, but it would be Yasha, and assuming they both survived long enough to see it, that was a future Beau quite liked the sound of.

With a nod, Beau leaned a little more into where she propped her hands on her bedroll behind her and stared out at the moons hanging over the ocean. The sounds of Nicodranas' night fare were distant and significantly less than the sounds of the day market, but a pleasant hum to their sentry. They lingered for a while longer before Yasha eventually moved, pushing to her feet and tucking her harp away as she dusted the loose sand from her seat. Beau – who had had every intention of spending her two full days alone out on the shores of the city – remained where she was. She knew that it would ache something fierce, but she was ready to watch Yasha walk away. Despite their promise, Beau knew that it was for the future, not for right now.

But the pale woman turned to look down at the monk and raised an eyebrow at her in question, gesturing to Beau's set up.

"Are you coming?" Yasha asked, voice unassuming, leaving it up to Beau to either rise and join her or stay put. It was clear though that there would be no judgment in whatever she decided to do.

Beau thought of the Chateau, of Jester spending the evening tucked into her mother's room, of Veth's sturdy arms encircling her son and husband with brightness to her eyes that Beau rarely saw when they travelled. But she also thought of Caleb's nose tucked into a book, present in the downstairs tavern despite his lack of attention, just for the presence of company. Of Fjord and Caduceus and their excited, idle chatter as they nursed food and drink and knew not to include Caleb in conversation, but kept him company regardless. She thought of Yasha, standing over her now with a cautious expectation, an almost always-willing drinking buddy, a companion who was stalwart and sturdy and consistent even if she wasn't always heard. Beau thought of a quiet promise of a quiet future and made her choice.

"The beach isn't going anywhere." Beau stood and packed up her bedroll and her bag and followed Yasha back towards the winding streets of Nicodranas to the Chateau.

[potatoesandsunshine]

Campaign 2 Wrap Up: Anna Potatoesandsunshine Edition

Seemed like it would be fun to go through all the fan content I made for this campaign and try to find at least one thing I like about each thing! Kind of like looking back through a photo album. Under the cut because as it turns out, I wrote kind of a lot! (As in, 21 fics and 3 playlists kind of a lot!)

the sea, once it casts its spell (fjord speculation, what’s up with all this ocean stuff?? the fic)

The first thing I wrote for c2, wayyy in the beginning of things. We had no idea about Uk’otoa or Avantika or anyone at this point, it was pure ocean vibes for my favorite warlock. I really like how hard I leaned in on the “the ocean follows Fjord to land” idea.

so many things will fill my life (but only one will do) (post-campaign cali/jester fluff, written the night of the cali episode and so sweet it could rot your teeth)

This one is just good. I just did good with this one. I’m one of those people who hates their own work the night of posting and then when looking back at it goes, “Wow, this is great.” My favorite thing is the little gifts sent along with the letters! Cali was so fun and cute :)

when the dust does roam (Beau study up to Episode 42, 2k words of Beau poking at the idea of grief)

Best thing I did in this fic was have Caleb-through-Frumpkin bugging Beau about getting some sleep. They really... they’re siblings, your honor. 

“  “Fuck off, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Beau picks the bird up and sets him in the hood of her own cloak, out of reach of any weasels or startled monks in the morning. It’d suck to have to tell Caleb that his Frumpkin got eaten by Sprinkle.” C’mon guys, let’s do the sibling dance.

keep your swords out by your sides (the idea for this was, What If Fjord Has Nightmares From Uk’otoa Every Night and just doesn’t remember them)

Assigning everybody a word Uk’otoa had said for each nightmare in this was a challenge; I went into it knowing I wanted Caleb for Learn and Caduceus for Consume and had to guess the rest - for an angry eye snake Uk’otoa didn’t give us a ton of quotes. 

“ He reaches over and runs a hand along the wall of the ship. From his touch, mushrooms begin sprouting.” Caduceus starting to decompose the Mistake in the middle of cooking was maybe the best moment in this story for me. Like, yeah. Yeah. Ok you funky little grave cleric.

strange but not a stranger (Caleb & Jester, in the immediate aftermath of Caleb’s charm in Episode 55)

the first of my “the Mighty Nein won’t have these conversations with each other in canon so they have to be had in fic” ideas that turned into a full-fledged story. I still had not discovered the em dash at this point, so the formatting of this makes me cringe a little bit, but this fic was really about The Emotions Of Being Out Of Control which turned out to be a very big Thing for the Mighty Nein.

now this story was when swords were humble (fake academia mixed with a Yasha study)

Honestly I’m still obsessed with the AU I made here where Yasha was just awakening every sword she used without knowing it?? Why did I use that here only?? That might come back. But the best part about this fic is the citations; me at my most in-joke and ridiculous.

through the teeth of this tempest (Written in the immediate aftermath of Episode 69, Yasha internally trying to break Obann’s control over the course of a month.)

The most “I wrote this to cope with canon” fic out of all of them. I was crying writing this, I was so upset that Yasha was gone ugh just remembering it. Still waiting for past me to discover the em dash, I genuinely don’t know why I didn’t know how to do it and I’ve thought about going back and editing all of these but I’m just Not Gonna Do All That. Anyway, I really like how Yasha catches lightning with her sword in this. We all really manifested that happening.

nothing more than what the losers settle for (Time travel, a series of oneshots where each member of the m9 sans Caduceus went back to a different point in the timeline and murdered Trent Ikithon)

This was my longest fic for c2, so I’m mostly just glad it got finished. This happened somewhere around the time Matt released that set of notes that mentioned Trent in more detail and I hated him so much I just had to write him dying six times. That speaks for itself.

Revolutionary!Fjord was also a good turn. He could pull it off, I think.

we’re gonna show ‘em a thing, or two, or three (Jester growing up fluff!)

I really like how I did Jester & Artagan in this, even though he barely appears. Someone better at songwriting than me please write the Dragon Song. Em dash makes an appearance here but the formatting is still wrong. I Am Once Again Asking For Proper Use Of The Em Dash.

the best things (happen while you’re dancing) (Mid-Episode 97 Divergence, Jester taking the reins at the party + hints of jester/beau/yasha bc i still love my girls so much)

Jester’s a little out of character in this, but not wildly so, and it was for the purposes of a Trapped By Societal Convention plot that I wanted her to mastermind so I think it was fine in the end. I’m still fascinated by the way she unbalanced Ludinus Da’leth in basically every interaction they had, and while their scene feels pretty cliche in this... the cliches are there for a reason. They’re so fun to write.

Em dash my beloved, there you are.

plus thirty-one varieties of sacramental wine (The Galavant crossover that truly nobody asked for, Beau + the monks)

Yeah, this one’s just fun. Not much more to say about it. Critical Role and Galavant are both fantasy, but they’re honestly pretty different in tone, and it was fun to write Beau dropped into a comedy musical.

oh we were sea-bound and aimless at best (Purely angst, a What If The Fjord & Orly Resurrections Didn’t Work fic)

Made myself care about Marius with this one, y’all. What more can I say? Beau having to go from first mate to captain was just... deliciously painful, because she would.

lost my shape trying to act casual (Beau & Yasha during travelercon, another mid-episode fic, this time of 104)

Yasha comforting Beau, who feels guilty for not feeling guilty... That Mighty Nein wasn’t lying, Mind Control and Autonomy can be themes. Another in the  “the Mighty Nein won’t have these conversations with each other in canon so they have to be had in fic” tank. They really just... didn’t open up to each other for a long time, which made sense, but I wanted them to.

so long as you don’t mind a little dying (Beau & Caduceus, sometime in the peace talks arc)

Keeping with the Mighty Nein Please Talk To Each Other theme, I feel like I did a pretty good job with the late-night conversation energy of this fic. This was at a time when I was looking at Caduceus, can opener in hand, ready to make this firbolg open up about his feelings. Beau in this is prickly and confrontational but only in service of her friend’s well-being.

amber light, bending (Eiselcross speculation, Widofjord and all the messiness therein)

THE widofjord fic of my two widofjord fics. The blueprint. The better one. Finally I got the dynamic figured out. I maintain that the tower is an absolute expression of Caleb’s love for his friends. The way that neither of them have the braincell in this fic... yeah this one is just good.

and a blade between them (Widofjord happening... sometime.)

Okay so this is not as good as amber light and I will never be able to look at it and like it as much, but it was still fun to write. Anyway, the intimacy of shaving someone else. That is good. The tag “if they didn’t want me to think about the blood pact they shouldn’t have made the blood pact” is the most useful takeaway from this fic and is the driving force behind the Fjord/Jester/Caleb fic I’m working on now, so it wasn’t a waste of time or anything.

feel the ground beneath my feet turn into the sky (Post-Campaign Astrid-retires-to-Nicodranas, Astrid/Jester)

This is another one where I’m like “Yeah, this is just good.” Packed full of Wizard Fashion, Artagan making an appearance to rope Astrid into having a happier future, and the power of Going To The Seaside. Good for you, fic-Astrid.

spend your days biting your own neck (Role-reversal where Beau is the one mind-controlled this time and Yasha is the one chasing after her, set very early in the Tomb Takers arc)

So much of this fic is about not saying things aloud - Beau’s POV spends a good chunk on body language and Yasha writes multiple letters on paper and in her own head - but devotion bleeding through anyway because there’s nowhere else for it to go. The two of them go tumbling over a cliff together at the end but Yasha has wings, ugh. Yeah this was a good one.

and blow the dry leaves from the tree (Somewhere before the beauyasha date but otherwise timeline-nonspecific Nicodranas, Yasha & Yeza become friends)

Yasha & Yeza making pancakes together when neither of them know how to do so... is good. This fic is very much about grief sneaking in, but it’s even more about finding someone to share the moment with you. I think these two have more in common than we think.

oh, lend a mending hand (Caleb & Caduceus during Beau’s tombstone meditation in Episode 130)

I wrote this entire fic as an excuse for Caleb and Caduceus to hug and it does what it says on the tin. Got em.

it’s about the passing of measures (Beauyasha at the end of Episode 134, Aeor speculation)

This fic got extremely sidetracked because I rediscovered the marble machine during it and I do not apologize for that. I still really like the idea that Aeor as a whole, not just the Cognouza, is somewhat-alive. Too much magic and too much death for it to be anything else, in my mind. And I’m a sap for hurt/comfort.

the blumentrio playlist nobody asked for

If I think too much about how deep in each other these three people are I will cry. Made myself a soundtrack for those tears. 

the caleb playlist nobody asked for

what if this angsty wizard had a playlist of songs that mostly just... make me want to dance? that question was answered here.

the caduceus playlist nobody asked for

songs about home, leaving home, dying, changing, becoming someone new, coming home and finding it’s changed... this to me is caduceus.

yeah... this campaign has been fun!! I probably won’t stop making things about it; I still write about Vox Machina, for crying out loud, but... it feels good to lay it all out like this. It’s been a long few years, and it’s wild to be seeing the end of it now.