Oh my god I was just reminded of this post by someone liking it so I come bearing a 6 year later beauyasha update
My beau in both is @/tikatikacosplay (ig), the photog for the first one is @/katlyn.photographyy (ig) and the photog for the second one is my beau from 6 years ago, emeshe 🫶🏻
I feel like my most "no, it's the children who are wrong" moments happen when I go to a new fandom on AO3 and sort by kudos and all the works at the top are absolutely terrible, and yet ... man, sometimes the children are wrong.
laudna cringes. looks like she wants to disappear into her pillow. the little flame on their bedside is steady; the shadow it throws flickers madly, buffeted, disturbed.
‘i shouldn’t have said it. i’m sorry.’
imogen ignores the scorpion-sting of hurt; she had known it would come when she started this conversation, that a talk like this might skitter and panic and sting. that laudna might.
‘i don’t mind. bein’ your girlfriend,’ she says, slow and thoughtful like. ‘obviously. and i don’t mind you tellin’ anyone. i just thought…’ she wets her lips, nervous. takes a moment to sort through her thoughts—there’s so many of them now that she doesn’t have everyone else’s to crowd hers out, and it’s frustrating not knowing laudna’s as well as her own, but that’s the way it is now and it’s a good different, mostly, but she sure would like to know what is going on in laudna’s head, what has her so still. ‘i thought maybe you would say it to me before you said it to anyone else.’
‘yes, yes, i should have spoken to you first, of course!’
imogen shuffles onto her side so she can level a good and proper frown at laudna, who smiles a little sheepishly, plucks at the itchy tavern sheet settled over her.
‘i’m not scoldin’ you. i don’t know how to do this either. i got a surprise, that’s all. are you cold?’
laudna laughs like imogen has told a joke. she has a lovely laugh, airy, sweet. when she really thinks something is funny, there’s a hint of a cackle to it. she thinks about the people laudna might have scared, knowing or unknowing, as her laughter travelled through the trees out of her hut; she knows she’s a lost cause over this girl when, instead of amusement, it tugs deep want up into her hands, her chest, her throat—she wants that, to walk through the trees home to the hut they share, to hear laudna’s laughter greeting her, guiding her home. she lets it move her. tugs the heavy blanket from over her and shuffles closer, wraps it around them both.
‘there. that’s better.’
‘oh.’ laudna’s voice cracks. ‘thank you, you’re very kind,’ she whispers, like imogen has done something wonderfully profound. she looks to struggle for a moment then lifts her chin to kiss her.
‘oh,’ imogen breathes, and her thoughts get messier as she struggles to focus on anything but the soft, cool touch of laudna—lips, fingers very gentle on the side of her neck—and the scent of her all around—forest floor, soap, soot. she wants to open her mind. she wants laudna in and around her and the thought, and laudna’s gentle searching kiss, makes her flush, scars stinging with a lovely smouldering heat, thoughts turning to static. ‘um. wait.’
laudna retreats quite quickly to her pillow. her dark eyes are apologetic and then, imogen thinks, maybe not so much. dipping to imogen’s flushed cheeks, her lips. her gaze lingers.
‘what-‘ laudna stops. surprise flickers over her face and she touches her throat, her lips. she starts again with a little cough. ‘what’s wrong, darling?’
imogen reaches out, brushes her fingers over the marble cliff of laudna’s bare shoulder. ‘you know i would do anything for you.’
‘and i you.’
‘i know. but - i want to do that. i want to help you and care for you and protect you, whatever you need, whatever you want from me.’ a little frown crinkles between laudna’s brows. imogen touches a finger there, smoothes it out. so soft. ‘i’m afraid,’ she whispers. ‘that you kissed me to thank me for caring. that you want to be my girlfriend so i have you.’
‘imogen-‘
‘and if i’m wrong, i’ll be so glad, but i have to say it so you - so you can think about it, maybe, but so you know that i’m thinking about it and i want to be careful,’ she insists, and takes laudna’s hand in hers, all bird-boned, all light and delicate and ecstatically alive. ‘i don’t want you indebted to me, laudna. you know that, don’t you?’ a little nod. more than enough to say, ‘i want you like i always have. my friend. my person. my - my favourite,’ imogen says as firmly as she can, and presses a hand to laudna’s chest, over that awful wicked scar, the one she gave laudna, the one laudna wouldn’t have if not for her.
there’s a despairing tilt to laudna’s lips when she smiles back at her. ‘this is all so new.’
‘i know.’
‘i don’t think it’s what i’m doing but -‘ her eyes close. black lashes splayed over porcelain cheeks. ‘how do we know it’s not the opposite? that i’m not trying to claim you as mine? to ingratiate-‘
‘darlin’, if you think i’m not totally devoted already…i don’t know what to tell you,’ imogen drawls, and smiles, relieved, when laudna laughs.
‘and i to you, i assure you.’ laudna drags a cool hand down imogen’s arm. covers her hand with her own. when she starts to speak, melodious, thoughtful, imogen relaxes into the pillow to listen. ‘i care for you a great deal. you already know that. being separated from you was. awful,’ laudna spits, the fury in her features for more than just their separation. it was everything that had come with it, imogen knew. fear, and what dreadful things laudna is capable of when she is frightened. ‘and then, to learn you cared for me more than i had known was such a joy. and kissing—‘ the word trembles in her mouth. imogen is enraptured by the smile it conjures. ‘kissing you is quite lovely.’
imogen grins. ‘just quite lovely? do you want to double chec—mm!’ she laughs into laudna’s kiss, follows her for a second.
‘exceedingly lovely.’
‘oh exceedingly,’ imogen says, trying not to fall over her tripping heart. ‘that’s good.’
‘yes. it’s very good. i think… i think we are very good, imogen. i cannot tell you that i am not…frightened of hurting you. i am. but if your question is whether i truly care, or if there is anything i would not give to you freely, happily,’ laudna shakes her head. ‘i do, and there is not.’ she smiles over at imogen and says, a little slyly, ‘you’re my girlfriend, by the way.’
‘am i?’
‘mhm. chetney may already know.’
‘he won’t tell.’
laudna tilts her head. ‘would you want him to?’
‘no. no, i think. if you want to, we could?’
‘tomorrow?’
‘i could just blast it into everyone’s heads now,’ imogen offers, only very slightly not joking. laudna laughs, snuggles close. she pulls the blanket up to her chin. ‘tomorrow is good too. maybe over breakfast.’
‘why tell them anything? i shall kiss you and ashton will buy us a drink to ask why.’
imogen laughs. ‘a kiss and a free drink? perfect.’
"i'm not triggered or upset by or even ideologically opposed to it, i just associate it with something so bad that i can't enjoy it anymore" is such a frustrating relationship to have with a piece of media
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