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fairmoephelia · 4 years

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I Met Sarah in the Bathroom

beauyasha week day three!! modern au, enjoy a fic of yasha and beau meeting in the bathroom of a party.

slight warning: there is no in depth talk about it but obann is yasha’s ex (before she came out as a lesbian) and he’s mentioned to have been pretty shitty. so if that bothers you please be careful reading

fic below the cut!

Yasha could feel Obann’s grip on her arm as she stormed through the party, “Calm down, you’re making a scene.” He told her as she tore her arm away from his grasp, shirking his hand as he tried to grab her again.

“Leave me alone,” she muttered, pushing past the few people who didn’t instinctively step out of her way. She breathed a small sigh of relief as she found what she was looking for through the dim lights of the house, a bathroom. She didn’t even know who was hosting the party, someone Molly knew, let alone the layout of the house. She pulled at the handle and it opened, thank god. She rushed inside and slammed the door behind her, hearing Obann’s fist hit with a hollow sound, “Yasha, love, get out here!” He said, still plenty smug but his voice was beginning to sound annoyed. Good.

She banged her own hand against the inside of the bathroom door. “Get fucking lost!” She shouted.

“You can’t stay in there all night, Yasha!” He called back, she could just imagine him leaning dramatically against the other side of the door and grinning to his friends.

She practically growled, “Watch me, asshole.” She leaned her head against the door and took a few deep breaths, she had gotten more upset than she’d meant to with him. She knew he was right, she couldn’t hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the night. She shut her eyes tightly, listening until she heard Obann’s retreat over the music blaring from the living room.

“Uh, hi?” Said a voice from behind her, Yasha spun around to face the owner of the awkward greeting. It was a woman, looking a little pale in the face as she kneeled next to the toilet. She looked like her skin was normally a nice olive tan and was still rather pretty, even with her hair falling haphazardly out of her bun. She wore skinny jeans and a grey checkered button-up, and her ears and face were adorned with several black and gold piercings.

“Sorry,” Yasha said immediately, not knowing what to do other than awkwardly rub at the back of her neck. “I didn’t realize— the door was unlocked,” she explained.

The woman waved Yasha off with a casual hand. “That’s my fault. I kinda had to run in here, too much to drink. That guy sounds like a dick,” she said bluntly.

Yasha sighed, lowering herself against the door until she was sitting on the cool tile of the bathroom floor too. The very thought of Obann, still nearby with his asshole friends, weighed down on her. It was a good thing he hadn’t made it into the bathroom, she wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to stop herself from smashing his head against the sink. “He is,”

“Sucks,” the woman muttered, “I’m Beau, by the way.”

“Yasha,”

“So, was that dude just some random creep or do you know him?” Beau asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to answer, I was just wondering,”

“He’s my ex,” Yasha winced, “We dated for a few months, before I came out as a lesbian,”

“Oh, hey! Me too!”

Yasha smiled a little at that, it was nice to have that kinship with someone other than Molly for the first time in awhile. Her and Beau sat in silence for a moment, it teetered between awkward and comfortable but Yasha decided it was the best she could hope for from a stranger she was randomly trapped in a bathroom with.

“Did you come to this party with any friends?” Asked Beau.

“One, but I don’t know where he is and,” she held her phone out, clicking the power button to show the red low battery screen.

Beau shook her head sympathetically. “Well, I know actually the guy hosting the party, his name’s Fjord. He’d probably be okay with ending it early if you want?”

Yasha shook her head, the last thing she wanted was to be more of a bother. Getting some poor girl stuck in the bathroom with her was one thing, shutting down an entire party because she couldn’t handle seeing her ex was another. “No, no, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Okay, then how about we go grab food?” Said Beau.

“How? I can’t really leave,” she said, as much as it made her feel like a coward, though Molly and the therapist she had gone to for exactly two weeks both told her it shouldn’t. She really couldn’t handle seeing Obann, which had been fine when she believed she would never have to again, but apparently her bad luck had to follow her everywhere. Even to some party she hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place.

“Window,” said Beau, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re kidding?” Yasha couldn’t help but stare, Beau had seemed simple enough at first glance but Yasha was getting the feeling she had when she first met Molly, like she had never met anyone like him before.

“Nope, it’s not even that hard to open or get through,”

“You’ve done it before?”

“Like I said, I know the host,”

“And you’re feeling well enough to do this?” Yasha asked incredulously, considering Beau had admitted to being sick before she arrived.

“I feel great.” She said, pushing herself to her feet and making her way over to a window, blocked by curtains, that Yasha hadn’t noticed when she entered, “And now that I’ve thrown up a bunch, I need to get some food in me. You coming or not?”

Yasha hesitated before joining Beau on her feet, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do and food sounded good. She hadn’t gotten the chance to eat anything before running into Obann.

Beau grinned like she’d just won the lottery, it made Yasha’s stomach flutter slightly. She unlocked the window with a click, throwing it open and ducking out with the grace of someone who had practice escaping quickly through windows. Yasha followed, less practiced and having to fold herself far more than Beau, and pulled the window shut behind her.

Beau held out her phone as they crossed the lawn of the two story house and made their way down to the sidewalk, “You can use my phone to tell your friend where you’re going,” she said.

“Thanks,” Yasha took the already opened phone, looking at the background of Beau with a darker skinned man and woman. The man was tall and wearing a green flannel similar to the blue one around Yasha’s waist, he had amber eyes with a distinctive scar crossing one of them. The woman was chubby and shorter than Beau with freckles, holding up a peace sign and winking, she had bright blue hair and equally colorful clothing. A pink top and candy-like jewelry dangling from her ears and neck. Yasha swiped to messages, putting in Molly’s number and typing a quick text about going to get food with a girl she met at the party. She purposely left out the part of seeing Obann, knowing she would explain later if he asked.

She handed Beau back her phone and they continued down the street, even in the dark Yasha knew the area. Her and Molly had walked there from their apartment, which was the only reason she was comfortable leaving him.

“You know,” said Beau, “I bet your shitty ex came with Fjord’s shitty ex. They broke up on bad terms, but he invited her to clear the air or something. Personally, I think he just wanted to make sure she brought some of his stuff back.”

“Maybe,” Yasha agreed, “I wasn’t originally going to come but Molly, my friend, asked me to. I think he knows Fjord,”

“Oh yeah, Fjord’s mentioned him a few times but I’ve never met him. It’s too bad, maybe if I had I would’ve met you sooner,” she said smoothly.

Yasha huffed a laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is Fjord the guy in your phone background?” She asked, purposely ignoring the compliment though it would be a lie to say she hated it.

Beau didn’t seem discouraged, “Yeah, the girl is Jester, our other friend.”

“Was she at the party?”

Beau nodded, “Along with Caleb and Veth, some of our other friends. Caleb was probably just as reluctant to be there as you,”

Yasha felt a slight recognition at the name, “I think Molly has mentioned a Caleb before,” she said.

“Oh!” Beau said suddenly, “Is Molly the guy who got him that really stupid shirt for Hanakuah last year?”

“The one that said ‘Cat Daddy’ on it?”

“Yes!” Beau laughed, “His face when he opened it was the highlight of my night,”

Yasha chuckled at the memory of holiday shopping with Molly. They had mostly just been buying for each other, trying not to let the other one see, but he had been so excited to find the shirt, saying he had just the person in mind to give it to.

Beau and Yasha entered the fast food restaurant they had come across during their walk, ordering burgers and fries and taking a seat at one of the cheap plastic tables with their food. Beau ate like a starving woman and Yasha enjoyed her food as well. As the night came to an end, or rather morning began to rise, Beau passed her phone across the table back to Yasha.

“Can I have your number?” She asked, “You’re pretty cool and I’d like to take you somewhere nicer than the nearest fast food place.”

Yasha stared at the contacts screen, hesitating like she had at the window, for only a moment, before typing in her number. She placed a flower emoji next to her name and returned the phone.

Beau smiled at the screen and Yasha was really beginning to like when she smiled, “Thanks.” She said, “You good to get home?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yep. I hope to see you soon, Yasha.”

Yasha smiled and left the restaurant.

#beauyashaweek2020 #beauyasha #critical role #critrole #beauregard lionett #cr beau #yasha nydoorin #cr yasha #fic #fanfiction #critical role fic #also yes caleb and beau are jewish #my best friend introduced me to the headcanon and i will never get over it #i love it a lot

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idonthaveanyurlideas · 5 years

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BODY once told me that beaujester week starts now because timezones are a goddamn mystery and i live in the future compared to most of yall and i cannot wait any long to share my fics with you

SO HERES DAY 1 YALL BATTLE COUPLE AND FIRST KISS YEET @beaujester-week

AO3 Link

and fic below the cut:

There were some moments that Beau really hated magic. Right now was one of those moments.

“Can you see them?” Jester’s voice called out from the bottom of the tree that Beau had climbed up.

Frowning, Beau gave another look across the skyline, perched on a thin branch near the very top of the tree. The sun was quickly approaching the horizon, but she saw nothing but trees. After a few more moments of searching, she dropped back down to the ground with a scowl on her face.

“Nothing. Not even some smoke. Either Caleb fell into a cave or something, or we got sent too far away to see anything.”

Jester was hugging herself when Beau dropped down, her lips pursed and her foot tapping the ground. “When I messaged him he didn’t say anything about not being able to shoot something into the sky…”

“Then we must be really far away. Or he’s really far away.” Beau ran a hand through her hair. “Either way, I’ve got no idea where the others are. Can you message anyone else?”

“I can… but then I won’t have high enough magic left to dimension door us towards them.”

Great. Just wonderful. The two women glanced around the forest for a while, as if something might have changed in the ten minutes since some asshole wizard had managed to teleport them out here. Usually, it wouldn’t be a problem, but this particular forest was, according to the locals, filled with gnolls, ogres and wolves and other things that would probably like to kill them. It was also apparently far larger than originally anticipated.

Of course, assuming they were even still in the same forest as they’d been in when they fought that stupid wizard.

“What about locate object?” Beau asked, looking up through the verdant canopy at the sky, which was becoming tinged with pinks and oranges of sunset.

“I already tried with Caleb and Caduceus…” Jester’s voice trailed off, and she winced, while Beau tried to remember how many spells she’d seen Jester cast in the fight before they’d gotten whisked to wherever they were now. Too many. Better she save whatever she had left than waste it on the hope any of the others were still in range.

“Right. Guess we better… pick a direction and start walking.” She said.

Jester brightened up a little, making a show of picking a random direction and declaring it to be the best one, setting off with a spring in her step. Beau jogged to catch up to her, keeping a lookout for any danger as they began making their way through the forest.

It would be fine, Beau was sure. They’d walk around until they found somewhere to shelter for the night, Jester would be able to send more messages in the morning, they’d be able to work out where everyone is, and then they’d figure out how to get back to each other.

They just had to survive a maybe-monster-infested forest until they did.

As if she had called it upon themselves, Beau heard a dull, faint thud from somewhere to her right, followed by a few more. She tensed up and stopped in her tracks, Jester instinctively freezing next to her, both of them looking in the direction the sound, squinting through the branches.

For a few moments, silence reigned.

Another set of thuds, more noticeable now that Beau was listening out to them. Heavy, and slow. Far too close for comfort.

“We need to-” Whatever else Beau was going to say was lost in an instant when all of her instincts suddenly screamed for her to duck. She did, grabbing Jester by the arm and pulling her down with her, a javelin whistling over right where they had been standing, where it probably would have skewered them both had they stayed still.

Jester couldn’t help a surprised yelp, clapping her hand over her mouth.

The footsteps were quicker now, still approaching. They didn’t need to be told twice, scrambling back to their feet and taking off in the opposite direction, Beau holding on tight to Jester’s hand. The last thing they needed was to get any further separated.

Unfortunately, whatever was chasing them was faster. Beau could hear the footsteps — about two sets if she was hearing correctly — pounding closer and closer with every passing second.

Another javelin flew past them, burying itself into a tree trunk just in front of them.

Jester stiffened for a second, Beau’s momentum carrying them forward so quickly they stumbled, buckling to their knees and scrambling to get back up, both of them cursing three ways to the next week.

They were down for a barely a few seconds, but even that small delay was enough for their enemies to catch up, two hulking ogres breaking into view, massive splintering greatclubs gripped in their hands and sneers crossing their faces.

“Dimension door?” Beau asked, Jester nodding with wide, fearful eyes before opening her mouth to say the spell.

At the same moment, one of the ogres picked up a fallen tree trunk that lay on the ground, chucking it directly at them, the other lumbering forward with greatclub raised.

Beau dove out of the way, rolling to a stop and seeing Jester now a good fifteen feet away from her, having jumped in the opposite direction to avoid the trunk, which splintered on the ground where they had been.

Fuck. Shit. She caught Jester’s eye from between the trees, a split second before they knew a fight would really be upon them. Her eyebrows knitted together with determination, her hands already reaching for her holy symbol.

If they weren’t able to stick together long enough for a Dimension Door, then they’d just have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Luckily for them, they were surrounded by trees. Trees which gave Beau an excellent vantage point to run up and jump off of in order to kick an ogre in its stupid face. Multiple times.

For about thirty seconds, it all went remarkably well. The trees also gave them a fair amount of cover, the ogres having to duck and squeeze their way through to try and get to them. Jester managed a lucky guiding bolt, nailing one of the ogres directly in the eyes and sending it crashing to the forest floor.

Seeing its brethren fallen, the ogre Beau had been fighting promptly lost its shit. The only warning Beau got was a low, guttural roar before a greatclub slammed into her stomach.

All the breath was knocked out of her lungs, a sharp cracking sound filling her ears as she went sprawling onto the ground, distantly hearing a shocked cry from Jester somewhere behind her.

“Beau!” Jester’s dress rustled as she sat down next to her, Beau grimacing and wheezing as she pulled herself up to her knees.

“I’m good-I’m good-” She huffed, holding one arm over her stomach.

Jester opened her mouth to say something, cradling one hand and holding her holy symbol in the other.

But then the ogre roared again, far too close for comfort.

“Shit-” Jester glared at the ogre, her eyes flickering back to Beau before she seemed to make a snap decision in her mind, and all of a sudden, her lips were pressed up against Beau’s, a burst of warmth and healing magic flowing into her.

The kiss lasted for a second and then Jester was gone again, holding her injured hand to her chest and running past her, a sacred rush of flames descending upon the ogre.

What…?

Beau sat there stunned for a few moments, focused entirely on the quickly fading sensation of Jester’s kiss, the last lingering remnants of her magic leaving a soft glow in their wake that soon faded too.

Then the ogre took a swing at Jester, the tiefling just narrowly managing to jump out of the way, and the world came crashing back around her again. She darted to her feet, curling her hands into fists again before racing back into the fray, even if a part of her was still stuck on what had just happened, stuttering like a broken record.

With the two of them together, they made short work of the remaining ogre, only waiting a moment to catch their breath before they ran deeper into the forest. The sun was truly setting now, but it wasn’t long before they found a cave — okay, more like a crack in the side of a hill, but it provided some cover — that they huddled into, not wanting to take their chances resting out in the open.

The adrenaline faded away and no matter how hard she tried, Beau’s thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss. Did it count as a kiss? It had been so quick, such a split-second moment, could it really be called a kiss? Jester had kissed her before, on the forehead or even on the cheek a few times, but never on the lips.

Even though the fight was over, Beau’s heart was still racing. Her stomach seemed to be tying itself in knots, her breaths short. Or maybe that was because of the cracked ribs.

“Are you okay?” Jester’s voice cut into her thoughts and she tilted her head towards her. “Your hands are shaking.”

“What?” Beau looked down to see her hands were vibrating, not too much but enough to be noticeable, and she promptly willed them to stop. “Oh.” Gods, she still sounded flustered, her cheeks heating up.

She looked back at Jester, whose expression was somewhere between expectant and absolutely bewildered. For a few moments, they just looked at each other, cheeks a few shades redder or purpler than they usually were, fingers twitching towards each other.

Gods, what if she was waiting for Beau to say something? What if she had already forgotten about it? It probably didn’t mean anything, she’d just been trying to give Beau some quick healing, one of her hands had been full and it looked like the other had been hurt and-

“Oh, your hand, is it alright?” Beau spoke quickly, grateful for any distraction.

A flicker of something crossed Jester’s face but quickly disappeared, the hand she’d been cradling before still curled up against her chest. “Um, it’s fine. Nothing a good nights sleep won’t fix.”

Beau shuffled a little closer, thankful they’d taken the time to create a small campfire, trying not to look Jester directly in the eye lest she absolutely lose her mind. “Are you sure? I’ve-I’ve sprained and broken wrists before, they hurt a lot if you don’t take care of them properly.”

“If you say so.” Jester chuckled lightly even though she hadn’t really said anything funny, lowering her hand and allowing Beau to take a look.

A few seconds glance told Beau that it was definitely sprained, at the very least. They were both silent while Beau took care of it, but she could feel Jester’s eyes on her, while her traitorous mind continued to replay those tiny few seconds, picking it apart until she almost felt like she was actually seeing it happen over and over again.

“You- uh, out of healing spells?”

“Yeah. I used my last one on you.” They were both now pointedly avoiding eye contact, even as they sat so close their legs and sides were pressed against each other.

“Right. That was…” What was she saying what was she saying oh gods “That was nice.” What the fuccckkkkk?

For a second there was dead silence. “Oh.” Jester sounded surprised. Not just surprised, pleasantly surprised. “Nice?”

Abort. Abort. Abort! “Yeah. Unexpected… but nice.”

Nice? Was that really the only word she could come up with?

“I mean-uh, it was pretty heat of the moment-” Beau’s mind was spiralling, trying to land on the right words to say and just ending up flailing hopelessly, her tongue moving without her brain really able to catch up. The only consolation was that Jester seemed equally as lost.

“Oh yeah, totally.”

“It was a tense situation, really quick, your hands were full. Not too meaningful, right?” Oh, gods.

“Right.”

Beau chanced a look at Jester, only to accidentally make eye contact, quickly breaking it off to stare directly at the opposite side of the cave instead. They lapsed into an awkward silence.

It was probably a good thing that her body was already stiff, because when Jester’s hand slowly, hesitantly found its way over to Beau’s, fingers carefully tucking themselves around hers, she couldn’t tense up any further than she already was.

When she spoke, Jester’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It… it could be meaningful.”

Beau’s heart skipped a beat.

She swallowed, before clearing her throat. “Yeah?”

Slowly, ever so painfully slowly, Beau turned her head to face Jester. This time, she didn’t break the eye contact.

“Can… can I kiss you properly this time?”

Beau didn’t answer. She just nodded, closed her eyes, and leaned in.

#fanfic #my fanfic #beaujesterweek2019 #first kiss #battle couple #Look #I Am But A Simple Sapphic #I See Blue Wlw #I Make Them Kiss

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fidgemimic · 5 years

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Anyway Beau fucking hates the new wizards for like the first month or two. Also this gets rambly and fic-layout-y as hell. i am very tired and have a headache so bls forgive me

Beau hates both of these new Zemnian assholes to be entirely honest, but she’s willing to give them an iota of a chance after everything finally goes down and the immediate ramifications of turning the Empire’s greatest war mages/archmages into traitors are done with.

She’s absolutely not the only one that doesn’t trust them - fuck not even Caleb trusts them completely and he’s the reason they even bothered to defect in the first place. But the gang at this point is willing to put enough trust into them that they won’t just straight up slaughter them all in a heartbeat.

It doesn’t help that they’re both disgustingly proper.

Backs still ramrod straight, hands folded neatly in their lap or attentively behind their backs. They make eye contact with anyone who dares to speak no matter who it’s too. They’re attentive and quiet - and the nein can see them calculating scenarios and escape routes and weaknesses in their heads any time someone dares to move.

Eodwulf, to everyone’s benefit, seems to easily swap between the cold persona into one that’s a little too competent socially to not be forced and practiced to perfection over the years. He can easily hold a conversation with Fjord and Clay, even drawing laughter from Jester at his quips and playing along with her strange stories; Though not the ones about the Traveller.

(The first time she mentions him, things suddenly go horribly, terribly wrong. He doesn’t hurt her, of course, but they can feel the air change. He snaps into another personality entirely - disgusted and enraged at the concept that he’s sitting with a heretic of all people. It’s like something cruel has taken over him, drawing curses and cruelty from his lips that bring Jester to tears before anyone even fully realizes the situation. It’s not the first time it happens, but it startles everyone - Eodwulf included. Jester doesn’t receive an apology until much later, once Caleb pulls him away from the group and speaks to him quietly. No one cares to ask what was said - not until Jester grows curious a few days later and asks Wulf. Beauregard only barely overhears it - glaring daggers at the half elf all the same.

“He said that it was.... it was hard to relearn what should be - what is - acceptable. Hard to relearn what it is normal people see as being non-issues. It’s no excuse for my horrid behavior, but it is... difficult... to know after so long.”

Beauregard.... hates him a little less for that. He’s dangerous, and she keeps an eye on him, but it’s easier to remember that he’s not the first or only person who’s had these issues before. If she speaks to Caleb later about what to expect, it’s for the safety of the group - obviously. She needs to know what she needs to look out for so that she can swoop in and roundhouse kick a bitch in the throat if push comes to shove. But if she manages to catch the hints - the sudden stillness, the tightening of his jaw, the impulsive twitch of fingers as if readying a spell - she jumps in and distracts him with a flourish and desperate ease that would’ve made Molly proud. Eodwulf is easy to decipher once you know what the signs are.

Astrid, however, is not.

She radiates an air of authority that would make Beau sick if it wasn’t from a woman that was just so fucking hot. Where Eodwulf finds a place to integrate himself socially, Astrid sits back and watches from just far enough away that it’s obvious she’s not really part of the team.

It’s intentional - and she’s said as much to the rest when they ask her about it.

“I have little reason to trust that the lot of you won’t kill me tonight. I am fine here. Thank you.”

Beau can tell that Caleb is torn with this information. He’s been torn since the two of them arrived - all three of them have been desperately trying to figure out where they stand with each other in a way that The Nein would find hilarious if it wasn’t a rom-com script stitched together with trauma and guilt and all of the disgusting waste the empire had tried to shove down their throats.

Caleb and Eodwulf are the only two willing to approach her for conversation with positive results. Fjord had tried and given up after two weeks of clipped answers and obvious disinterest. Clay wanders over from time to time with his teapot and empty stories to try and ensure she doesn’t feel left out. She never drinks his tea - not even pretending to in the way that Clay often pretends to drink liquor - but he hardly seems to mind.

No one knows what it is that causes the outburst. One moment, they’re surrounding the fire, chatting aimlessly while Clay’s slow drawl acts as white noise in the background. Then the loud crash of ceramic shattering against the ground bring everyone to silence. Their eyes are drawn to the duo behind them, where Clay sits as calm as ever - his eyes only marginally wider to indicate the barest hint of shock. His teapot lay in pieces on the ground between them.

Astrid raises from her spot, cup still cradled in her hands before she deliberately allows that to slip and shatter on the ground as well.

“Oh, how unfortunate. Clumsy me.”

When she wanders off, it’s Eodwulf that followers behind her, with Caleb nervously trailing close behind.

Beauregard approaches Clay as he works from his place on the ground, carefully picking up shards of what used to be beautifully painted ceramic.

“It’s no issue, Ms Beauregard. Simply an oversight on my part - I must have upset her and not noticed. It can be fixed easily, no harm done.”

The three wizards return not 10 minutes later. Astrid is silent, as are Eodwulf and Caleb. There is no apology, no attempt to speak to her, only the same carefully blank expression that’s been on her face since the day they found her. Something about the simple lack of remorse or empathy makes Beau’s skin crawl.

Beauregard hates Astrid.

And she makes damn sure that she shows it.

Beauregard grants this woman none of the ‘pleasantries’ she gives her friends - drudging up every ounce of malice that she has and directing it solely towards this woman. Astrid is everything she hates wrapped into a package in just the right manner that she doesn’t want to tear her limb from limb immediately. She’s the embodiment of the empire, of everything wrong with it and what it does to people. She’s cruel and calculating and Beau can’t help but imagine how quickly and easily this woman could end all of their lives. Poison their food stores while she keeps a small sachel of her own rations close.How easy it would be for her to slip close enough to Caleb to slit his throat with a hiss of ‘traitor’ on her lips even after all he’s done to get them to safety.

She feels predictable and not all at once. It throws Beau for a loop when Astrid finally - finally - responds to her constsant prodding. Not with anger, but with a smile.

The woman is quick-witted and cold. Her words are like daggers being driven into every weak spot Beauregard has and it’s a show of power that drives her fucking insane with how easily the quips come to her. The only thing keeping The Mighty Nein from tearing them apart is the reactions that the fight seems to garner from Eodwulf and Caleb of all people.

The two of them are huddled together, muttering and chuckling in Zemnian. They commentate with small gasps and giggles and muttered ‘oh, sheisse’s that - through the anger and annoyance - remind Beau of the catty assholes she used to go to school with as a young girl. It doesn’t help that Astrid seems to feed off of their strange new relationship, and in the midst of it all Beauregard realizes something:

This, the woman that’s tearing into her with abandon and thriving off of the attention of her two best friends, the woman who’s catty and self-assured - not because she knows she has power and statusadn training - but because she knows she’s clever enough to out-shittalk someone, is the closest they’ve gotten to seeing who she is.

She’s not sure why she decided to keep it going after that. She found what she was looking for - a small note that Astrid wasn’t just some hollowed out war machine. Something that showed her that there was still a person in there. Hell, she found the tattered remains of Something in all three of them that she hardly expected.

But Astrid was quick to leave them again - back ramrod straight and shoulder squared. Face carefully neutral. Beau, in all of her horrible terrible no good very bad wisdom, continued the fight for as long as she could, as often as she could.

It was slow going, and every so often Astrid would fall completely silent and unresponsive to Beauregard’s jabs in a way that was uncomfortably familiar, but over time it didn’t even take Beau’s stupid attempts at fighting for Astrid to make quips and clever comments to other members of the team.

It felt like a miracle at that point.

As much as Beau wanted to continue hating Astrid after that point - as much as she wanted to still hold that bone-deep distrust that made sure she had a hand around her staff any time either of those fuckers get closer to one of her friends, she found that she couldn’t. Not really. They were doing better, and if she ever admitted to the fact that she was a little bit proud and a little bit protective of them at this point, she would have to throw herself off a cliff or something.

They were the ghosts of people, slowly but surely remembering who they could have been if everything hadn’t gone so fucking horribly. If she noticed the way that Caleb’s nervous half-smiles turned into stupid childish grins any time Eodwulf or Astrid said anything in Zemnian, or if she noticed how they slowly started to lay their bedrolls out next to each other with less and less space between them each night - that’s not her fuckin problem. That’s not her bullshit garbage ‘friends-to-lovers’ ‘hurt/comfort’ drama novel plot, and she could frankly care less so long as it was a decision that they got to make themselves.

#Mimic Speaks #1.8K SHITTY FIC LAYOUT AS PER USUAL WHEN IM TOO TIRED TO FUNCTION BUT TOO WIRED TO SLEEP #i need to read more so i can up my vocab and like uhhhhhhhhhhhh Write Fic #The Mighty Nine AU

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bboiseux · 6 years

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could you do a fic based on directly after the Vinkheta Job where Nott and Beau give the books to Caleb and they both have to stop him from going back there to try and find more books that Nott didnt have time to get?

Be careful what you wish for …

A follow up to (what is now) Chapter 1 of The Vinkheta Job! Some Angst this chapter, but then we get back to hijinks next time!

“Caleb?” Nott clutched the pile of books to her chest and kicked at the door. She was trying to whisper, but she was excited. “Caleb!”

The door swung open and there was Caleb. Perfect, beautiful Caleb. He was already holding a book in one hand. He smiled his usual sad almost smile down at her.

“Nott—” And then his eyes caught the pile. “What is this?”

Nott grinned from ear to ear. “I got you some presents.”

She shoved the whole pile up into Caleb’s chest and he clutched them tight, the pile threatening to collapse to the floor. He stumbled backwards and set the pile down on the floor. Nott followed behind, shutting the door behind her. By the time she got to Caleb, he was laying the seven books out around himself in a semi-circle. He eyed each carefully before picking one up and flipping it open.

Nott saw the joy explode on his face.

[Continues under the cut or read on AO3]

“Nott, do you know what this is?” He held up the book, as If Nott was seeing it for the first time.

Nott nodded. “I do.”

“I have been looking for this for years.” He flipped through the pages and Nott saw Caleb’s mind switch tracks—a sudden snap of his attention. His eyes swept across the page. “This … this is so important …”

Nott knew that she had lost him, but it didn’t matter. The little flicker of light on Caleb’s face was more than enough. Her own smile was wide as she watched him become enveloped in the words and diagrams.

When she went to bed that night, he was still on the floor, hunched over the books. Something has ignited in him. That something that made him great.

Nott hugged a pillow close and curled into a small ball and went to sleep.

She woke up early to the light of the sun creeping into her eyes. She snarled and grumbled for a moment and then her eyes snapped open.

Caleb was still sitting in the middle of the floor. The hunch in his back was lower and his eyes had deep bags under them. The books were no longer in an even semi-circle around him, but were scattered in various states of disarray, all open. He was glancing frantically between different pages in different books.

Nott sat up. “Caleb? What’s the matter?”

Caleb turned his slowly to look at Nott. “Where did you get these books?”

“At a … store?” Even though she didn’t know the alternative, it felt like there was a wrong answer to the question.

“What store?”

“Just a store on the west side of Zadash. Caleb, what’s—”

Caleb picked up one of the books and waved it in the air. “Something is very wrong with these books. They do not make sense.”

Nott slid out of bed and approached the mess. “What do you mean?”

Caleb scrambled through a book, searching for something, then he jabbed a finger at a page. “This talks about the Battle of Torhaus Ridge. Nott, I know my Empire history and there was never a battle at Torhaus Ridge.” He flipped through the pages. “This entire account of Dwendalian history doesn’t make any sense.”

Nott gave Caleb a wary look. “So? The book isn’t any good then. It’s wrong.”

Caleb slammed the book to the ground and grabbed another one … and then another, dropping each of them to the ground in turn. “Except the details match between each of these books. If look for information about the great arcane users of the day, they are inevitably talked about in a history that is wrong.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Either all of these books are miraculously wrong in the same way—books that I have heard about in my researches as valuable assets to any magical library—or…” He trailed off as if unable to finish his thought.

“Or?” asked Nott. She knelt next to Caleb and looked up into his eyes.

Caleb looked to be on the verge of tears. “Nott—” He choked back a sob. “—Nott, if these are not mistakes, then these books do not make sense unless—unless they are evidence of some greater magical event.”

“Caleb, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

Caleb locked eyes with Nott. The tears ran down his face. “This could be evidence of a way to change reality—to make the world other than it is.”

Nott nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. Yeah, maybe that. Or … and I’m just throwing this out as an alternative, maybe this is just a really shitty store with really shitty books. I’m just saying, it seems more likely.”

“Nott, you know what this could mean to me. This might—”

“I know, Caleb, but that also means that you need to be careful.” Nott set her hand on Caleb’s. “Remember what we said before? I’ll always back you up. I’ll do everything I can to get you what you want. But don’t give yourself false hope.”

Caleb took a moment to gather himself. Nott saw his shoulders rise and fall, his eyes staring down at the book.

“You are right. I must be less optimistic.”

Nott patted him on the shoulder. “Well, let’s not get carried away. I wouldn’t exactly call that optimism.”

“We need to go back to that store.” Caleb’s voice was firm.

“Oh, well, I don’t know if we really need to do that …”

“Nott. I cannot let this go. If there is something that could do—do this—” He gestured at the books. “—then I must investigate it.”

“Yeah, it’s just that …” Nott picked at the bandages around her hands. “… maaaybe we could not go to the store?”

Caleb fixed Nott with a long stare. “Did they see you? Were you almost caught?”

Nott had expected Caleb’s voice to be stern, but instead it was laced with concern. It was easy to forget that Caleb, unlike most of the world, cared about her no matter what she did.

“Well, we—I almost made it out. I had a great disguise—my little Halfling girl!—and I was just leaving, when—well, I don’t know, but it seemed like he suddenly realized he’d been duped.”

Caleb scrunched up his brow. “We? Was someone else with you?”

In Nott’s mind, she saw Beau’s face, still made up, her hair a lopsided mess. She was looking down at Nott and saying “And if you tell a fucking soul about this, I will kill you. Understood?”

Nott shook her head violently. “Nope. No. Definitely not. Just me.”

“Nott. Who was with you?”

“Nobody. Why would you think anybody was with me? It’s not like the storeowner is a racist asshole who won’t sell to non-humans. That’s the only reason I could think I would need anyone. I’m really good at stealing.” Nott was becoming increasingly aware of how unconvincing her voice sounded.

Caleb didn’t say anything for a minute, then “So, Beauregard? Beauregard helped you?”

“I didn’t say that!” screeched Nott, “You can’t tell her I told you because I didn’t!”

Caleb was already walking to the door.

“No! Don’t tell her! She’ll kill me!”

As he opened the door, Caleb said, “I do not think so” and he pushed into the hall and started pounding on Beau and Jester’s door.

“Beau!” shouted Nott, “I didn’t tell him anything. He figured it out with magic mind powers!”

Behind the door, there was a groan and then Jester’s voice mumbled, “Beau, why is someone waking us up this early?”

“I don’t fucking know. Go answer it.”

“They called your name.”

“It is Caleb and Nott, Beauregard,” called Caleb.

There was a long silence and then Caleb and Nott heard the pad of feet coming towards the door. It swung open violently and Beau peered, bleary eyed, into the hall. “What?”

“Ah, Beauregard, I would like to talk to you for a moment about the books that you helped Nott procure yesterday.”

Beau shot Nott a look that said “I could rip you apart right now” but her mouth said, “Yeah, sure, whatever” and she stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

Back in Nott and Caleb’s room, Beau cast her eye over the disheveled state of the books and then back up at Caleb’s tired face. Her face grew a little less angry. “Okay, what’s going on?”

Caleb explained to her what she had discovered, what he suspected. He told her of the possibilities it represented.

“Okay,” said Beau, “So you think this douchebag in the store is some super powerful wizard or something? Cause I hate to break it to you, but he’s just a douchebag.”

“I do not know, Beauregard, but I need to see this store. I need to see this man. I need to see if I can figure this out.”

Beau looked over Caleb’s face with a tired stare and then sighed. “Yeah, okay.” She turned to Nott. “I mean, he should be able to go in there fine. We don’t need to be there.”

Nott gasped. “Let him go in to that—that horror show by himself!?”

“I mean, it’s not any dirtier than Caleb.”

“Thank you very much, Beauregard.”

“Sorry, dude, but you don’t exactly take care of yourself.”

Nott broke in. “Not my point! If this storekeeper is more than he appears, Caleb will be putting himself in harm’s way!”

Beau shrugged. “No more than we did yesterday.”

“But we didn’t know then!”

It was Caleb’s turn to interrupt. “That is not the point. Yes, I need to see the store, but if it is something more, we need to get into the backroom and find whatever secrets are there.”

“Wait,” said Beau, “Are you suggesting, like, a heist?” There was a glimmer of excitement in her voice.

“If that is the term you prefer, ja, I am suggesting a heist.”

“Oh shit,” said Beau. She looked down at Nott and then back to Caleb. “Fuck yeah I’m in!”

#critical role #critfic #nott the brave #caleb widogast #beauregard #heist!fic #bb writes #the vinkheta job #bb prompts

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