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want your love (want your revenge)

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“Wait, let me get this straight—” Beau shuts her book, the pages clapping together. She swivels her gaze to Caleb. “You want to go to a rock concert?” 

“Ja,” Caleb says, petting the bengal cat that rests on his shoulder.

“Dude, you hear yourself, right? You? At a loud, crowded rock concert?” 

Caleb rolls his eyes. “It’s simple, Beauregard. Essek and I were supposed to go, but he got called into work and is likely not going to be coming home tonight. So, instead of wasting a ticket, I am inviting you to come with me.” 

Beau squints, putting her book on the coffee table of her somewhat messy apartment. The Cobalt Soul does a fantastic job of paying for her place while she’s working with them as a researcher. Not the most exciting job in the world, but Beau is a fan of puzzles. History-based puzzles are no different. 

“I’m a little suspicious,” Beau admits, pinching her fingers together. “Since when are you into heavy metal and rock?” 

“I’m not,” Caleb responds, waving his hand in front of him. “But my dear friend, Veth, is the drummer of the band, and I promised her I would come to one of her gigs.” 

Beau frowns— she doesn’t have anything else better to do. She could catch up on some notes from work— the Archivists are working her and the other researchers to the bone to finish a project about the Dwendalian Empire (blegh)— and to be fairly honest, spending a night at a rock concert is sounding pretty inviting compared to sitting hunched over in front of a computer. 

“Fine. I’m in. But you’re paying for drinks,” Beau says, standing up from the couch and stretching out her spine. 

“Great! I’ll pick you up at six— the show starts at seven and we cannot afford to be late,” Caleb says sternly. Then, his hands come up in the air and he repeats a string of words. 

“Wait, what do I—” Beau shuts her mouth when Caleb disappears in the air. Beau sighs. “Why does he always fucking teleport out of here? Can’t he, like, fucking walk like a normal person?” 

With a shake of her head, Beau trudges to her bedroom. With it being a little after four-thirty in the afternoon, Beau supposes she should start getting ready now, right? As messy and unkempt as she can appear, it surprises most people (and Beau herself) that it takes time to look messy. It’s a combination of forgetting to take off her makeup before she sleeps and braiding her hair meticulously every time she washes it. 

So, with that, Beau hops into the shower and takes her time. If she’s going to a concert for free, then she’s not about to skimp out on the chance to look hot as fuck and pick up on any girls that might be there. Beau doesn’t know much about the rock crowd, but there has to be hot girls involved, right? Right. 

After washing her hair (that’s gotten a bit too long, but she doesn’t mind it nor does she have the time to get it cut right now) and shaving the sides and back of her head to give it a freshly shaven appearance, Beau hops out of the shower and spends a few minutes twisting her hair into an updo that gives off a bit of a roguish aura.

“Looks good enough,” Beau says to herself. She gives a thumbs up to her reflection, before speeding to her closet. What am I gonna wear? 

She spends a few too many minutes rifling through her hangers for a good crop top to wear. What do you even wear to a rock show? Leather, right? 

Beau pulls on a deep blue cropped hoodie, a pair of black tech-wear sweats with straps everywhere, a pair of comfortable platform shoes to give her some more height, and then a sleeveless leather vest to finish it off. 

Arms? Check. Abs? Check. Ass? Check. What more does Beau need than the three essential A’s?

Beau finds a pair of leather gloves adorned with spikes and, as a last-second choice, pulls them on. Might as well!

By that time, Caleb is waiting inside of her apartment, sitting on the couch wearing a relatively plain ensemble— black jeans, black shoes, and a black t-shirt with a logo that says The Travelers

“How did you get in here?” Beau asks. She waves her hand abruptly. “Doesn’t matter. You’re always here. How are we getting to the venue?” 

“Teleportation, obviously,” Caleb remarks, standing up and sliding his phone into his pocket. He runs his hands over his forearms and extends for Beau’s hands. “Should be very simple.” 

“Great, teleportation,” Beau grumbles. Good thing she has an empty stomach. Regardless, she lets Caleb cast his teleportation spell and they’re pulled through. 

They appear in front of a club the first thing Beau notices is the noise . She looks over her shoulder to see a massive line of people waiting to get into the club. No, not a club— the Lavish Chateau. 

“Caleb!” Beau hisses. “You didn’t tell me the concert was here!” 

“Problem?” Caleb raises his brow. 

“I—” Beau slides her hands down her face. “No! Just— I would’ve dressed better!” 

Caleb looks down at his clothes, then back at Beau. “I think that is the least of your worries, Beauregard.” 

“Fair point,” Beau acknowledges. 

Caleb skips the line entirely, going straight to the bouncer of the Lavish Chateau. Beau doesn’t question the wizard as he raises two tickets to the bouncer, who quickly scans them before waving the two into the Chateau. 

Beau has come here before, once or twice, but every time she comes, she’s stunned by the size and beauty of the place. But it makes her wonder why the hell a rock show is being hosted at the Chateau? No judgment to the band, but Beau does think it’s an interesting aesthetical choice. 

The main area of the Chateau has been cleared out, with a massive pit made in the center of the room that is lowered down a few steps. There’s a stage in the back of the main atrium, with lights positioned on heavy metal bars and plenty of space for the band to jump around and sing. 

“So, what exactly is this band?” Beau asks as Caleb walks straight to the bar. 

“As I said before, my friend Veth is the drummer,” Caleb says. “She’s been with this band for a few years— do you know Jester Lavorre?” 

“The Ruby of the Sea’s daughter? Yeah, who doesn’t?” 

“Jester is the lead vocalist,” Caleb says. Beau’s eyebrows shoot up. She never would’ve guessed Jester to be the type to be in a rock band, but looks can be deceiving, apparently. Caleb continues, “Along with Fjord, Caduceus, and Yasha.” 

“I know Fjord— I think,” Beau says, accepting the drink that Caleb pushes into her hand. Gin and tonic? Good enough for her. “I don’t know the other two.” 

“New additions to the band to replace old members,” Caleb says. “They’re quite talented, but I haven’t seen them play live yet.” 

Beau nods, her eyes drifting back to the mass of people assembled in the pit. No way that Beau is going to get involved in that tonight. She’s better off watching from the sidelines and when Caleb takes them to an exclusive viewing area off to the side in a sectioned-off, VIP area, Beau suddenly doesn’t regret coming out tonight at all. 

She can see the stage perfectly, she has a drink, and she’s with her best friend. What else could she need to have a little fun? Some ambient music plays in the background and Beau sips her drink. Beau has no plans to get hammered, although it does sound like a nice idea. Alas, she has work early tomorrow morning, and drinking the night before is not a smart idea. 

(She learned from experience, unfortunately.)

Caleb perks up. “It’s starting.” 

“How do you know—” 

Right at that instant, Beau’s words are drowned out in the sound of drums blasting through the massive tower speakers on either side of the stage. Beau nearly loses grip of her drink out of surprise. 

When she turns to the stage, her eyebrows go so high they might as well be in space. 

There’s a massive firbolg manning the piano, a green half-orc playing the bass, a halfling playing the drums (which is fucking insane, how does that even work?), a blue tiefling jumping up and down in front of the mic, and a gloriously ripped woman shredding the electric guitar. 

Beau’s mouth drops and thinks she might be drooling when she looks at the electric guitarist. A pale woman wearing boots large enough to crush her head, black, ripped jeans that encase powerful and thick thighs, and a ripped-up tank-top that exposes obliques Beau has been trying so hard to get in the gym. The guitarist’s hair is a beautiful mix of black and white— it’s platinum at the roots before it slowly starts turning into black at the bottom, braided with beads and pieces of cloth. The black lipstick and heavy eyeliner make the woman absolutely stunning yet terrifying, and Beau thinks she’s never been more attracted to someone in her life

Beau jabs Caleb’s arm. “Who’s that?” 

“That would be Yasha,” Caleb says, before taking a sip of his drink. “The pianist is Caduceus.” 

“Well, holy fucking shit,” Beau says. At this point, she’s not even paying attention to the music anymore. Don’t get her wrong, it sounds great , but her attention is stuck on Yasha. 

Beau leans against the railing, watching as Jester gets the crowd going with her powerful vocals. It’s surprising to see someone so tiny having such a strong voice, but Beau has gotten used to Jester being so talented— at University, none of the teachers would shut up about Jester being so smart and funny. Beau never minded it, but she never got around to being friends with the tiefling either. 

Though now, she’s reconsidering. Especially if it helps her get to the beautiful specimen that is Yasha, shredding the electric guitar. Even from a distance, Beau can see how big Yasha’s hands are as her fingers move across the strings of the pearl white and black guitar. Yasha is a beast, moving around and jumping to the beat of the music. Her hair moves like wind in the air. 

I’m fucked, like, very fucked. Capital Fucked. 

Jumped the gun

Oh, here I go again

I'm the one

Don't know when to say when

Here for fun I wasn't looking for a friend

Now we're kissing under covers and it's all

Just because

I couldn't keep in my pocket

Lit the fuse to the rocket

And I'm sinnin' while I'm winnin'

Now it's end and a beginning

And we'll see the rising sun

Because I jumped the gun

Jester is singing to a particularly loud song with a fantastic beat. Beau finds herself repeating the lyrics under her breath after a minute of listening to it. It comes to a close, and the crowd goes wild. 

“How are we doing tonight?!” Jester shouts to the crowd, getting a roar in response. “Hell yeah! We’re the Travelers, and we’re here to fuck some shit up!” 

They launch into another song and still, Beau’s attention remains on Yasha. It’s sinfully hot; how Yasha stomps to the beat, how she rocks her head back and forth, how she bites her lip as she plays her guitar like it’s a piece of art. Which it is— it’s the prettiest guitar Beau’s ever seen. 

“Alright, alright!” Fjord says, raising his hand to the crowd after a few songs. “How many of you here have had a fucking awful partner in your life?!” 

Some responses rise up. 

“This next song of ours isn’t our song, but you should recognize it,” Fjord shouts, grabbing the neck of his bass as his voice booms across the Lavish Chateau. He points to the platinum-haired woman across the stage from him. “Yasha, take it away!” 

Yasha steps forward into the limelight, wearing a stony look on her face as her fingers shred the intro solo to the song. Beau’s jaw drops as the drums kick in and Yasha takes complete control of the entire room. Beau barely notices that Jester’s singing the lyrics for Bad Romance, covering the song by Lady Gaga. 

Jester takes the spotlight once more, swaying the crowd as she drops low to sing the verse to the chorus. 

I want your love and I want your revenge

You and me could write a bad romance


I want your love and all your lovers' revenge

You and me could write a bad romance

Beau watches as the lights to the stage shut off , and a spotlight points to Yasha, who’s standing in front of a mic stand. Beau’s eyes widen when Yasha opens her mouth and— 


Caught in a bad romance!


Caught in a bad romance!

Beau is left stunned . Yasha’s voice goes high, practically piercing Beau’s ears and nearly breaking the spears, but Beau has never heard anything so angelic in her life. The crowd goes insane after Yasha pulls away from her mic and Beau makes a mental note to give Caleb all the fucking money she has because she is so glad she got to see this. 

She’s grabbing the railing and leaning forward, waiting for Yasha to go back to the mic again, to use that insanely gorgeous voice of hers again. Beau’s wishes are granted— after the second chorus, Yasha returns and sings the same lines once more, her head thrown back holding her guitar in a manner that feels all too provocative and makes Beau’s stomach drop. In a good way. 

Her wishes come true again after the third chorus. Only, Beau is left slack-jawed and speechless when Yasha grabs the mic stand and drops to her knees. She sings, then whips her head back to scream want your bad romance! into the mic. The crowd is loving it, and Beau thinks she might need another drink. 

Thankfully, Caleb seems to read her mind exactly and leaves to get another drink for the two of them. Fine by Beau— now she can just ogle Yasha without having to worry about Caleb looking at her strangely. 

Beau is at least three drinks in by the time the show comes to a close. She has a little bit of sweat sticking to her skin from jumping around a bit, but it’s nothing compared to the mosh pit, who all come out looking like they just went through the car wash. 

Caleb turns to her to say, “Veth messaged me to say that we can go backstage now.”

Beau’s eyes bulge. “Wait, like, to meet the band?” 

Caleb raises his brow and gives Beau a strange look. “Yes? That is the whole reason why we came, Beauregard, to congratulate them after the show.” 

“Okay, fair, fair, yup,” Beau says. She gestures. “Lead the way. I’ve got no clue where we’re going.” 

“This way,” Caleb says, turning to walk out of the VIP area (which was sweet as fuck) and towards the side-stage. Caleb waves to one of the security guards, who lets the two of them through and leads them towards the green room. 

The guard drops them off, and Caleb forages into the green room without even knocking. Beau would argue that it’s inconsiderate to not knock, but this is Caleb— the man regularly teleports into Beau’s apartment with no warning at all just to ask if Beau has coffee. Which Beau does. She’s a researcher for the Cobalt Soul, c’mon, she can’t not have coffee. 

Inside the green room, Beau is met with absolute chaos. 

“Give up the knife!” Fjord shouts, scrambling after a small halfling that is hopping off of furniture with a deadly sharp instrument in her hand. Fjord pauses and zips one way and, as Veth leaps to the next couch, Fjord grabs her from mid-air. “Stop running with a fucking knife!” 

“Get off me, you big lump of muscle!” Veth screeches, slapping her hand against Fjord’s chest. 

Caleb clears his throat, causing everyone in the room to turn their eyes to him and Beau standing near the door. A bit awkwardly, Beau might say. 

“Caleb!” Jester springs up and walks over to the redhead, wrapping him up in a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Veth said you were coming tonight, I was so excited! The show was good, right?” 

“Phenomenal, Jester, you and the others did fantastically,” Caleb says, patting Jester on the back before pulling away. “Jester, this is my dear friend, Beauregard Lionett.” 

“You can call me Beau, though. Only this loony calls me by my full name,” Beau interjects with a jerk of her thumb at Caleb. 

“Oh, Beau, I remember you from university! You were in one of my classes!” Jester exclaims. “Professor always said you had a smart mouth.” 

“A lot of people do,” Beau replies. 

“I hope you enjoyed the concert! It means a lot that you and Caleb came out to see us tonight,” Jester says, putting her hands to her chest. She turns to the rest in the room. “Beau, Caleb, this is Fjord, my boyfriend and bassist, and Veth, our drummer, but you likely already knew that.” 

“You actually came out!” Veth says as Fjord places her back on the ground after wrangling the knife from her grasp. 

“Ja. I promised you I would,” Caleb replies, hugging the halfling. Beau shakes the Veth’s hand. 

“You’re Caleb’s researcher friend,” Veth says. “Good to meet you.” 

“That’s me. Sick job on the drums. I don’t know how you did it, but it sounded awesome,” Beau says, tucking her hands back into her pockets. 

“My husband Yeza engineered a way for me to play when we were high school,” Veth says, almost swooning. “A decade later, I haven’t stopped playing. I almost think he regrets it with how loud I practice in our garage sometimes.” 

Beau nods. “So… where are the rest of you?” 

Beau noticed a lack of Caduceus, the pianist, and more importantly, Yasha, when she and Caleb walked in. 

“Caduceus’s family came out to see him tonight, so he’s talking to them somewhere,” Jester says, putting a finger to her chin in thought. “And Yash— oh! There she is!” 

Beau’s eyes look to the back of the green room, where the woman that Beau’s been drooling over steps out from a door. Yasha’s hair is damp and she’s in the midst of pulling on a new tank top which gives Beau an eyeful of the hardest set of abs she’s ever seen in her life. They look like freakin’ bread rolls, what the fuck? 

“What about me?” Yasha asks, her voice surprisingly deep and melodic. It’s a sharp contrast to the high notes Beau heard her sing earlier tonight. 

“Yasha, this is Caleb and Beau, two of my friends from university!” Jester says. Beau’s surprised at the tiefling’s willingness to call Beau a friend this quickly, but it sounds perfectly in character for her. Beau doesn’t argue, not when Yasha is standing a few feet away from her. 

“Oh, hello!” Yasha says, waving her hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Yasha is our second newest addition to the band. She joined last year with her friend, but then he left so Caduceus took over,” Jester says, with the strangest hint of bitterness behind her words. “She’s our guitarist! Isn’t she amazing?” 

Jester fawns over Yasha, who simply crosses her arms over her chest and looks away. 

“Yeah! Dude, that part where she sang during Bad Romance? That blew me the fuck away,” Beau says, rubbing her neck as she watches a slight tint come to Yasha’s cheeks at the compliment. 

“Gosh, I know! ” Jester squeals. “I can’t sing that high so when our manager asked us to cover that song, I couldn’t do it. But Yasha did it and she sounds soooo pretty, right?” 

“It was the coolest thing I heard,” Beau admits. 

“Thank you,” Yasha says, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans. 

“Y-yeah, no problem,” Beau stutters. Damn it. 

“Caleb! Yeza is outside, he wants to talk to you, come on!” Veth says, grabbing Caleb’s hand and dragging him out of the room. Beau watches him go, yelling no, no don’t leave me alone with people I don’t know and a really, really hot woman! Unfortunately for her, Caleb is not telepathic and goes with Veth anyway. 

Jester looks between Yasha and Beau, before clapping her hands together. “I think we should get drinks! Fjord, come with me!” 

“Wh— okay, sure,” Fjord says, brushing off his hands on his pants. Jester bounces away with her boyfriend in tow. 

Beau’s mind short circuits. Fuck, fuck, how do I act in front of someone this hot? 

“Uh, your fingers are really nice.” Really, Beau? “On the guitar, I mean. You played really well.” 

Yasha tilts her head to the side. There’s a hint of amusement in her differently colored eyes which Beau hadn’t even noticed until now. 

“Thank you, Beau,” Yasha says, Beau’s name rolling off her tongue in a way that makes Beau’s insides melt like hot caramel. Yasha steps forward, hands still in her pockets, and Beau has to control herself from salivating over the subtle veins in Yasha’s arms. “Is there anything else you liked about the show?” 

Beau swallows. “The— uh, I really liked your guitar solos.” 

“Hm? Liked watching my hands?” Yasha remarks. Beau can’t help but look down to see that Yasha has withdrawn her hands from her pockets— veins are on the back of her palm and her fingernails are painted black and trimmed short. 

“You could say that,” Beau whispers. Her throat bobs as she swallows. Yasha looms closer. 

“I saw you in the VIP area, Beau,” Yasha says, her voice dropping an octave deeper. Beau inhales as Yasha smiles, the tattoo on her chin bold and dark. “You were watching me the entire time. Don’t think I didn’t notice your eyes on me every single second of the show.” 

Beau lets go of all her mental restraints. If Yasha’s baiting her, then she’s gonna bite. 

“Fine, you caught me,” Beau says, stepping forward to look up at Yasha. “I was simply admiring the prettiest thing in the room.” 

Yasha’s eyes drop down, then back up. “Cute.” 

Beau’s hand twitches. She might be tugging on the hook Yasha has thrown out, but she’s not going to be the one to make the move. The green room is dead silent with the two of them standing face to face. Beau can feel the energy crackling over the surface of Yasha’s skin, like she’s the avatar of lightning herself, a beautiful being formed out of pure electricity. 

Yasha moves. 

Beau gets a taste of that energy as Yasha surges forward, sealing her lips against Beau’s. The small woman throws her arms around Yasha’s shoulders, snaking her gloved hand into Yasha’s hair, very aware of the spikes that adorn the back of her leather gloves. She has to muffle the sounds that threaten to come out of the back of her throat when Yasha’s hands pull their hips together. 

Yasha’s hands move on Beau’s back, skating over the strip of exposed skin between the waistband of the sweats and the cropped leather jacket. Her palm leaves a trail of sparks on Beau’s spine. 

Beau doesn’t even realize she’s being walked backward until Yasha’s hand is cradling her head and her back makes impact with the wall. 

Yasha pulls away and her eyes are glowing

Beau exhales, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face. “You’re so fucking hot.” 

Yasha’s lip curls up. “You should see yourself.” 

Beau puts her hands at the hem of Yasha’s tank top. “I know you just put this on, but I would love to see your abs again.” 

“Only if I get to see the rest of yours,” Yasha barters, raising her hands and caging Beau in. The muscles in her arms are evident from this angle and Yasha’s lats are so fucking wide that Beau thinks she might pass out. 

“Deal,” Beau exhales. Yasha grins as her arms go up. Beau pulls off the tank top and flings it to the side. Yasha wrests off Beau’s sleeveless jacket before pulling off the cropped hoodie. Beau looks down and her eyes bulge out of her skull at the sight of the strappy, sleek bra that Yasha has on. It’s a web of black fabric that looks so fucking good with her pale skin. 

“Like the view?” Yasha asks, but her eyes aren’t even on Beau’s face. They’re glued to Beau’s abdomen. 

“Who the fuck let you be so hot?” Beau asks. 

“Me,” Yasha replies, before going down for another kiss. Beau accepts it gladly. Yasha’s lips meld against hers perfectly (almost too perfectly) and Yasha’s hands take hold of Beau’s wrists to pin them to the wall. Beau is left at the mercy of this glorious, ripped woman holding her like she’s a piece of art in the museum. 

Beau loses track of time, drowning herself in everything about Yasha. Her lips, her scent, her strength… everything about it is so intoxicating. 

Yasha’s lips disconnect from Beau’s with a string of spit. Beau can’t help but think how hot it is, to see Yasha’s cheeks flushed as she wipes the back of her mouth. Yasha brings Beau’s wrists to her mouth and in a movement that makes Beau’s stomach fly into fucking outer space, Yasha bites down on the tips of Beau’s gloves. Yasha pulls her head back, sliding the gloves off. She tosses them to the side with a whip of her head. Then her hands come under Beau’s thighs and hoist her up so easily that Beau feels a little offended that it’s not harder to lift her. 

But she’s not about to start complaining when Yasha presses her body against Beau’s and kisses her harder than Beau’s ever been kissed in her life. It’s not an unpleasant kind of kissing— not at all, far from it, actually. But the intensity is setting Beau’s insides on fire and she’s not sure if she can handle it without burning alive. 

Who would survive being kissed by Yasha? Beau doesn’t think she will— she might come out of the other side of this with several hickies and a memory of a woman that will never, ever go away. 

“Fuck,” Beau exhales, eyes sliding shut as Yasha nips at the spot on Beau’s neck that gets her every single time. Yasha rumbles low, a noise of pleasure, as she bites down harder and sucks. Beau digs her nails into the meat of Yasha’s shoulder, her mind on overdrive from thinking about all of the strength contained in Yasha’s body. 

“You’re so beautiful, Beau,” Yasha says. She nips on Beau’s earlobe and squeezes Beau’s ass as if accentuating her point. She very well might be. Beau doesn’t know at this point— her brain is addled from Yasha’s lips and tongue. 

Beau can say nothing— she can’t trust herself to say anything in front of Yasha— and pulls Yasha into another kiss, hands grabbing greedily at Yasha’s face to cup her jaw. It feels sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone. 

“Guys, I’m ba— oh.” 

Yasha drops Beau, causing the smaller woman to slide down the wall and back onto her feet. Yasha steps away and Beau turns to see who the fuck interrupted their makeout session. 

Caduceus stands in the doorway. He blinks once, before nodding his head and closing the door. From outside, Beau hears, “Have fun!” 

This is mortifying. At least it wasn’t Jester or Caleb who walked in on us, Beau thinks. She exhales, running her hand over her face. 

“So, uh,” Beau says, swallowing. “You’re a very good kisser.” 

Yasha turns away with a sheepish look on her face. “So are you.” 

Beau manages to get herself together to say, “So that is the best way I have ever met someone, just to let you know, but—” Beau inhales, gathering her courage. “Do you want to go on a date sometime?” 

Yasha blinks. Then she’s smiling. “That sounds delightful.” 

“Great! Great, good to hear,” Beau says, clapping her hands together. Yasha picks up Beau’s shirt from where it was discarded on the ground and gives it back to Beau with a happy look in her eyes. 

And as Beau pulls her shirt back on, she thinks that she’s never been luckier. 


Beau is very lucky. 

She knows that. 


Because she’s pressed against the barricade at a rock concert, watching her girlfriend rock out on stage with her best friends. Beau jumps up and down with the rest of the fans smashed together in the mosh pit and there’s sweat beading down her face, but Beau is having the time of her fucking life.  

Fjord is singing Rock Show, and Beau is screaming the lyrics at the top of her lungs. Though she sings along, her attention is sapped by Yasha. 

Yasha Nydoorin, her beautiful and fucking amazing girlfriend. 

Beau grins. Yasha is having the time of her life. Her hair is done in a style similar to a style Beau wears often— hair pulled back and done in a braid with tinier braids interwoven into it. Dark makeup is smeared on Yasha’s face and her fingers fly across the strings. 

There’s so much joy and happiness on Yasha’s face as she rocks out with her friends. Though her face can very easily be read as passive and non-expressive, Beau has been with Yasha for a few months now and knows that the slightest smile means that Yasha’s heart is full and happy. So to see the massive grin on Yasha’s cheeks as she puts her back to Fjord’s and they play their guitars in sync, Beau feels so blessed. 

When they get to Bad Romance , the song that started it all, Beau sings as loud as she can, even though her voice is drowned out by the thousands of other voices in the arena. And when Yasha’s part comes up, Beau watches. 

Because Yasha grabs her mic and drops to her knees in front of where Beau is at the barricade. Yasha twists her guitar to the side and leans forward, singing straight to Beau. Beau’s insides turn to mush as Yasha smiles at her. Beau reaches her hand out and Yasha takes it. 

She squeezes it before pulling away to resume the show and Beau sighs. 

Her love with Yasha is far from a bad romance, but it started with it, that’s for sure. 

Beau jumps up and down and throws herself into the mosh pit wholeheartedly, and parties for the rest of the night as her girlfriend plays with her band. Her heart has never felt lighter in her chest.