Oceans Away
She lifts her head up to look at him, directly into his grey, lunar eyes. There is something so dear about him, so ancient and intimate to her, yet at the same time, he feels oceans away. Untouchable. The sensation makes her heart ache.
He is dying to shed her veil away to claim her lips with his own. It would not be proper, he halts, reminding himself that he is a gentleman. He must settle for admiring her through the sheer and in the half-light, letting his imagination fill in the details.
‘Who are you?’ She asks him, her voice barely above a whisper.
OR
A chance encounter between an incomplete Elf and a Fairy who doesn’t remember.
OR
When the prompts of the day are so perfect my brain vomited 5k of glitter.
Benophie Week 2023.
Day 3.
A fairycore!Bridgerton fanfic.
@sophiamariabeckett senpai please notice me.
@inksuvich Thank you for this amazing collage of Sophie Baek. Your amazing work has inspired this. This story could not exist without you!
There are five million nine hundred seventy eight thousand magical realms in the known universe. Oftentimes, the realms float peacefully about, separately in their respective dimensions, quite static, stewarded by their own celestials, enlivened by their own solars. Occasionally, beings of certain means and fortunes traverse from one realm to another, seeking out companies or knowledge. These events are quite rare.
Even rarer still are when the realms themselves collide. Every five hundred years, two neighbouring realms would drift ever so close, that the silken fabric of their respective realities would touch and meld into one another, if only briefly. The pitch-black veil of their barriers would lift, revealing truths and wonders. Cosmic sparks then fly like two lovers’ kiss, open-mouthed. The Secrets were privy to a few, but the spectacle alone was one to behold. And so across realms, every star reader, Sterndeuter, jyotishee and zhanxing jia or mnajimu awaits a Collision with bated breaths. When it happens, well, what could be more worthwhile a cause for celebration?
That was how the newly crowned Queen of the Gumiho Foxes finds herself in the court of the High Fae Queen Charlotte. A great ball is held on the Eve of Collision in honour of the union between Lord Bridgerton of The House of Fae and Kathani Sharma of The Merfolk of Indian Ocean. The Fox Queen and her delegation are participants in this event.
From the edge of the ballroom, the young Queen admires the scene with satisfaction. Her first diplomatic mission has gone off without a hitch. Despite her self-perceived inexperience, she has handled the delicate game of politics with grace and dignity. The bond between realms were established, and now that the hard part is over, she watches gleefully as immortals of different shades and ages glide about across the ballroom, either mingling, dancing or drinking. Starlight swirls in the dome above them. Around the room, little pixies hold their own celebration, in the windows, behind the silk lanterns, in the vines and among the branches. Their little voices and the featherlight sound of their wings are only audible to The Fox Queen’s sensitive hearing and she giggles at their silly conversations. Occasionally, they would turn around and gasp in astonishment at the affairs of the bigger folk underneath, as if seeing them for the first time. In a sense, they are, for there is only so much space for memories in their little bodies.
In the middle of the dancefloor, the happy couple, beautiful and in love, bedecked in wedding jewels, gaze adoringly at one another. The groom’s elven glow emits a light blue hue, while the bride’s oceanic scales gleam in rich golden flickers. Sitar, shehnai, cello and piano honour their matrimony. On the highest seat, The High Fae Queen Charlotte holds court, seeming pleased with her subjects. Her ladies-in-waiting kneel in rows at her feet, dutifully braiding her endless curls. No one is paying attention to The Fox Queen, not even her own delegation. Now is the time for her to slip away.
As much as the festivities excite her, they are not what she came here for. No, she came for The Collision itself. When the two walls touch, when the heavens open one of their countless eyes and the sky thus becomes a mirror, there she would find her answers, this she believes with unshakeable conviction. ‘Few are lucky enough to gaze at the event and comprehend what it means. Most do not discover revelations,’ her professor had said, in a gentle and comforting tone. ‘Despair not, chance you find not what you seek, your Majesty.’ Yet the young Queen guarantees that the old scholar, with his boundless patience and wisdom, has worried for nothing. The Collision, this Collision in particular, is made for her. She knows this, deep in her heart, with divine certainty, as her excited steps carry her deeper into the forest, the earth warm and soft under her bare toes.
Someone is already there before her. In the middle of the lake, over on a little island, she can make out a masculine outline and scent with a mop of dark hair. He sits with his back to her, lounging lazily against pillows of moss. He seems to look up at the night sky, as the translucent shell of the other world approaches the one they are in ever so slowly. There is something about him that stops her in her tracks. Her entire body goes on high alert, as if a sudden course of lightning just runs through and charges every fibre of her being. And yet it is not out of fright that she reacts so.
‘Who goes there?’ He turns around. Their eyes meet.
He is the most beautiful being she has ever seen. He is Fae, perhaps an Elf by the shape of his ears. The ceremonial robe, that is customary of this realm, is haphazardly draped about him and deep blue in colour. Yet, he does not glow like the others of his kind. Perhaps that is what she finds strange about him. Defined, expressive features. The Fairy Fox wonders how he would look when he smiles. His pale grey eyes shine like the moon, and she finds in them a familiarity that makes her heart ache. Perhaps it was the veiled sadness in his eyes, a poetic melancholy that is characteristic to the allure of certain Fae folk, so she has been told.
For a brief moment, she considers giving in to her baser instincts. She can naturally shift into her fox form, sneaking away from his sight and go find a different location for her singular observation. None will be the wiser. It is not proper for two unattached beings to be alone together after all. She might have, however, had a few flutes during the fete, and the fermented fruit of the vines might inflate her boldness. ‘Why must I leave?’ she thinks stubbornly. She is a proud Queen of her own realm, and in her kingdom, where The Enchanted Foxes rule with freedom and wild independence, no one bothers with such frivolities. She wants to watch The Collision on that island over there, it is important to her, and whoever that Elf is can do well to respect that if he was a gentleman. And so, emboldened with the heat in her cheeks, her desire to see her plan through, the aristocratic pride that she recently has come to possess and her own curiosity regarding the mysterious Fae, she stands straight in her human form and faces him.
‘It is I.’ She answers. Secretly she is grateful for her veil, a delicate work of spider silk, morning dew and chrysanthemum. It shrouds her, from her head to her ankle, in a misty sheer, thus preventing the other from discovering her hesitation.
He leans against one hand, amused. A lazy grin creeps up his face, boyish and crooked, the corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth and she gasps, praying he doesn’t notice. He does have a beautiful smile. She knows he would.
‘And who might you be?’ He asks.
‘A lady.’ She says simply, gently reminding him of his courtesy and conceding very little about her identity.
He seems to understand her implication.
‘Good evening, my Lady.’ He tilts his head in her direction in greetings. ‘Happy Eve of Collision to you.’
She gives a small curtsey in response.
‘Perhaps you are lost. The wedding is that way.’ He points at the direction whence she comes helpfully. She can still hear the music swelling.
‘I assure you I am not lost.’ She feels her defences rising. How dare this Fae, or whatever he is, assume she does not know her way. Foxes are never lost. ‘I seek not the wedding.’
‘Pray tell, what seek you, my Lady?’
‘I believe it is not any of your concerns.’ She crosses her arms petulantly.
He narrows his eyes at her in contemplation. Then his grin grows even wider.
‘Naturally it is a concern of mine. You, my Lady, are standing in my territory. I am the Lord of this lake here, you see.’
‘That’s a lie!.’ She exclaims. She has done a thorough investigation on this realm prior to her mission. ‘There is no mention of a Lord of a tiny, nameless lake.’
‘Tiny?’ He looks around the place in mocked offence. ‘It is not tiny. Dwarfish, perhaps.’
If she were to reveal her tails this moment, all nine of them would bristle up in protest. ‘It is a lie and we both know so!’
‘Do we now?’ One of his eyebrows quirks up. ‘Yet this lake is not what you declared, my Lady. It is not tiny, merely little. Nameless, it is not either. Why, the name of it is written right there.’
‘Where, sir?’ She looks around herself. ‘I don’t see any-’
‘Right there.’
Suddenly, he is right in front of her on the shoreline. He is very tall, she notices. One of his fingertips glows like ember as he hastily scrawls something in the air right above her forehead. For a second she can feel his breath shifting through her veil and the spot where his finger almost touches her cheek burns at the near-contact. Then just as sudden as he appears, he is gone. Back to his little island in playful arrogance.
As her wits settle back into her body, The Fox Fairy looks up. Hung in the air, written in glimmering, pretty Elvish writing, are the words: ‘My Lake’.
‘Very clever, sir.’ She rolls her eyes, even when he can’t see it.
‘I thank you.’ He nods.
‘It is not a complement.’
‘Nevertheless, I have decided to receive it as such.’
‘From whence I come, one would say the skin on your face is rather thick.’ She exclaims.
‘Another complement! I thank you again.’ He seems destined to rile her up. ‘You flatter me, my Lady.’
She stomps her foot.
‘You, sir, are aggravating!’
‘Only in such pleasant company such as yourself, my Lady.’ He says, then turns his back to her.
In silence, the young Queen reflects on her own actions. Whatever has compelled her to behave so? Perfectly curt and unreasonable in front of this stranger. Like a thoughtless little cub snarling and bearing its teeth at perceived danger. There is no regal dignity to it. Her feet fiddle on the ground, embarrassed. She must admit that she is still in the process of reconciling the two versions of herself, the Queen and the Gumiho. The latter manages to manifest itself in new and at times, quite worrying ways to her still. A hundred years of a reign are still quite green for an immortal, after all, even when one is curiously prodigious at the job.
It is why witnessing The Collision is so important to her. Behaviours and knowledge in her possession that she cannot explain, she desperately wants to understand them. She knows she ought to view the event here, she was summoned to. And now perhaps she cannot anymore, all because she has proceeded, for no reason whatsoever, to antagonise this stranger. Like a fool.
Admittedly he has provoked her, but it is no warrant that she responds in such an unseemly manner.
‘You are not a babe anymore.’ She reprimands herself, before straightening up her back. She will resolve this conflict with grace and diplomacy.
‘Pardon me, sir.’ When he turns around again, she gives an apologetic bow. ‘I can see I have offended you. Please forgive my impertinence.’
She wills herself to not flinch under his gaze. It was her own wrongdoing. Even if he decides to mock her, as long as it does not cross the line, she will take it with dignity.
But he smiles at her. Earnestly.
‘Only if you forgive my insolence as well, my Lady. I am afraid I have overstepped your boundaries. I should have not teased you.’
Civility is an improvement.
‘Very well.’ She tilts her head. Her ear twitches the slightest bit in excitement. ‘You have my forgiveness.’
‘And you mine.’
It takes another minute before she gathers enough courage.
‘If it doesn’t bother you, sir, may I join you on your island? I imagine The Collision would look quite arresting from there.’
He agrees, and she thinks she might jump up and down with joy.
The Fae sensed her presence when she walked up to that shore.
It was the most peculiar feeling, as if his heart sped up and slowed down at the same time. As if he might perish if he did not see her. How strange, to feel so, so, so mortal. He has not felt that way in hundreds of years.
Yet as he almost touched her cheek and saw her eyes widen in surprise through her veil, he realised how much he has missed that sensation.
He watches in fascination as she gathers up her skirts and practically runs across the lake toward him, weightless above the surface, the water kisses her lovely feet. Her sleeves are so long and wide, she looks like she is sprouting wings as she runs. Her attire cuts an exotic silhouette, more layered and less meticulously tailored than the fashion of his court. The emphasis instead is put on the very fine weave of the silk itself, if the luxurious shine of her skirt is any indication. Embroidered lotus bloom about her in great detail, the artisanship so stellar and liberal, it would make any lady of Queen Charlotte’s court green with envy. She is a vision, even with the silky veil flowing down from her garland about her like a waterfall. It ripples as she moves, enveloping her in a silvery shimmer.
She leaps to his island and sits down, limbs folded neatly together until her silhouette resembles a soft, shapeless cloud. As endearing as it looks, she has decided to remain an appropriate distance from him, and the Elf tries to rein in his disappointment. There is a wildness to her that he finds both alien and intimate. She might be a forest-bound spirit, like him, surely from a different realm. Her movements are graceful, weightless, ethereal, with a hidden ferocity to them, almost feline-like. It has delighted him, drawing that ferocity out of her, when he has watched her huff and stomp her feet against his teasings. He chuckles to himself as he, in his mind, links the image of hers to that of a very crossed, very regal kitten.
Above them, the curve of the neighbouring world inches ever closer, its surface favours dark ocean waves.
He notices her gaze on him, even as she tries to be innocuous.
‘Are you entertained, my Lady?’ A smirk plays at the corner of his lips. Her head turns immediately away. He imagines she blushes. He knows she is curious. Everybody is. It is so very obvious.
‘Pardon me, sir. ‘It is just…’ She says, looking down at her feet. ‘I have never met an Elf like you before. One who…’ She stammers.
‘Without his light?’ He finishes her question.
‘My apologies.’ She says.
‘There is no need.’ His voice is casual and benevolent. Truly, he does not mind. He looks at the palm of his hand, and then the back. He supposes sometimes, he should miss being lit from within. ‘I am aware it is quite strange. I lost the light centuries past. The dimness has become natural to me.’ His brows draw together. ‘That is the reason I am here.’
‘Are you set out to regain it?’ At some point, they have forgotten the honorifics. ‘The light?’
‘No.’ He cuts her off. ‘It’s just,’ He pauses, trying his best to resurrect the memory. ‘I lost someone. A mortal. She brought my light with her. And this,’ he gestures at his unglowing being. ‘Is what is left. The Mark of Death.’
‘Does it hurt?’ she asks.
‘Not at all.’ He lies. It is agony. ‘I cannot bring myself to regret that loss.’ This is the truth.
Fae folk do not die. The dimness and pain from the Mark of Death is something they must carry for the rest of their endless existence. And the Elf bears it with pride. True to his words, he does not rue the loss of his gift. For whatever can be a more potent proof, a stronger testament to his love affair?
He continues with his tale, his heart opens like a flood gate.
‘I followed her in her incarnations. She never lived long, even for mortals. Her lives were rarely happy.’ He looks up at the sky. ‘We have lived for the briefest moments of joy. She would reincarnate, I would find her. Repeat. And now,’ He sighs. ‘I cannot find her anymore.’
‘Do you seek her? In The Collision?’ The question flows out of her mouth before she can stop it. She does not want to know the answer. As unwise as it is, The Fox Queen cannot help but feel a pang of jealousy against this mortal soul. Who was she, to be worth being loved by him, over and over again, even at the cost of losing her over and over again, as well as forsaking his own Elfhood?
He turns to look at her. At some point, they have drawn closer to one another. The curve of her cheek is made even softer, almost ghostly by the silver veil. Her eyes, the shape of elegant brush strokes, the ends slightly lift upwards like a comet’s tail. He feels them bore into his very soul, and suddenly it is harder to speak about his past love in the present. In her presence. His hand itches with the need to lift the material up and reveal the creature underneath. To make certain she is not a mirage.
‘She is free now.’ He has made sure of it. He looks up at the sky again. ‘Perhaps she has forgotten. Perhaps her soul has dissipated and become one with the universe.’
‘Then what are you doing here?’ Rings the melodic, soft voice of his companion.
He shrugs.
‘I miss her. Deeply. I do not suppose I can ever stop. However, as urgent and selfish as my desire to be reunited with her might be, I care more to see that she is content. Happy. In whatever form she takes. The Firmament knows she deserves it more than any.’
Silence dawns.
Then the Elf leans on his hand and regards The Fox Fairy.
‘How about you? What do you wish to find in The Collision?’
‘There are empty spaces in my memories.’ She traces her fingers along the lines of her lips in thoughtful contemplation, a little action he finds equal parts hypnotic and familiar. ‘Spaces I yearn to fill. I can’t recall my childhood. One day I just woke up, armed with all these knowledge and powers and I don’t know how they came to be. Only a fool would assume they are natural gifts. One does not simply navigate a political court without extensive training. And then I was crowned Queen by my people. I accepted the role. I am uncertain whence I have such confidence, or perhaps entitlement.’ Both of her hands draw up to cup her cheeks. ‘It is quite frustrating. I am haunted by dreams I cannot recall. Of twin moons. I wake up nightly in my chambers with tears on my face and I don’t understand why.’
‘Perhaps it was something quite painful.’ He suggests. ‘Perhaps it is your consciousness’s way of protecting you.’
‘I thought so at first.’ She says. ‘But if it were something I have decided of my own accord, I doubt I would have grown so restless over it.’ Her voice is steadfast. ‘Something was taken from me, I know it deep in my bones. You must think me quite mad, but these shadows in me, they leave footprints.’
‘Footprints?’
‘Yes!’ She exclaims, her eyes bright. ‘Emotional footprints. I cannot recollect the events, but the sensations are true. I remember heartaches. Pain. Death. But there is beauty too. Desires. And love. So much of it.’ Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as the emotions resurface. ‘If my memories are meant to be lost forever to protect me, why take away all the good things too? Why entrust me with all this wisdom without the means to understand it? Why lead me here at all?’ She gestures at the approaching Collision. ‘If not for answers?’
He studies her for a long moment.
‘I believe there is some wisdom to what you said.’ Truly. Certainly she does not sound madder than himself.
‘A part of my desire is fueled by my nature as well.’ She concedes. ‘Foxes cannot stand not knowing.’
‘You are of Fox-kind?’ he ponders the new information. It makes perfect sense, he supposes. Her initial shyness and wariness. Her unadulterated excitement.
‘I seek to understand more of myself. I must admit the relation between my nature and my role still remains somewhat… obscure.’ She shrinks into herself. ‘They come into conflict at most inopportune time. My behaviour earlier on the shoreline…’ She silences abruptly, realising what she has just let slip.
The Elf notices it. Interesting, he thinks.
‘I was wondering - what have I done to have incurred your animosity…’ He presses on, deciding to be ungenerous by not letting the matter rest. He is still Fae, after all. And now he is curious, too.
‘I… was so afraid to ask if I could accompany you on your island.’ She lets out an exasperated sigh. ‘This is most silly…’ He can hear her blushing, her voice is so expressive. ‘That I intended to scare you off. So you would go away.’
‘Scare me off?’ A humorous smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. ‘With what?’
She blushes even deeper.
‘I have no idea.’
He breaks into a fit of laughter.
‘It is not funny!’ She exclaims, both of her hands cover her flushed cheeks, shielding her face even further from him. Nine big, silver, fluffy fox tails sprout from her back, holding her small frame in their embrace, until she bears a striking resemblance to that of a great cotton ball. The sight is so adorable, it makes him laugh even harder.
As his laughter subsides, she feels him lift from his place and move to kneel in front of her. She imagines him reaching out his hand to touch her and she holds her breath. He decides against it, however, instead opting for calling out to her, in such a soft, gentle tone, it melts her bones into honey.
‘May I see you, please? My Lady?’
Her tails retreat, yielding under his voice. She lifts her head up to look at him, directly into his grey, lunar eyes. There is something so dear about him, so ancient and intimate to her, yet at the same time, he feels oceans away. Untouchable. The sensation makes her heart ache.
He is dying to shed her veil away to claim her lips with his own. It would not be proper, he halts, reminding himself that he is a gentleman and in the presence of a Queen. He must settle for admiring her through the sheer and in the half-light, letting his imagination fill in the details.
‘Who are you?’ She asks him, her voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckles nervously, feeling humbled under her gaze.
‘I am merely a younger brother of the groom, My Lady.’
‘I do not believe that is all that you are.’ she says kindly. ‘There is nothing ‘merely’ about you.’
He bows, still looking at her.
‘I thank you.’
The sky rumbles. The Collision is approaching. The Fox Queen and the lightless Elf break away from their eye contact, hurriedly settling back into sitting side by side, no longer looking at one another. She dries her palms on the mossy ground. He lays down, his hand rests easy on her sleeve.
She hears the music change. A familiar, more sombre melody of koto and free-reed flute, played by the Skylarks of her court. According to the tradition of her realm, they are playing The Reception of the Collision, aptly named. The Fox Queen brings out a gourd from her magic pouch. An intoxicating, floral scent permeates the air when she removes the small nub. She drinks the liquid inside, then harmonises with the distanced musicians, using the gourd itself as her instrument.
‘That is a lovely melody.’ He compliments her.
‘It is ceremonial.’ She explains. ‘The Universe brings its own music in The Collision after all. It is an echo from the callings of all those who walked before. Even the ashes have their own resonance. It is only fair to give something back. At least it is so to my people.’
‘That is very interesting.’ He says. ‘I do not believe to have heard any music during the occurrence. Nor knowing any of my kind who did, for that matter.’
‘How do you Fae folk see the event then?’ She asks.
He ponders over her question.
‘Lightning would strike from the contact. Over there,’ he points at the steadily unfolding skyline. ‘Imagine a light that does not cast any shadows. A Fae sees all the colours in existence in that light, be it a High Elf or a simple pixie. All the stars in the sky would gather about it, and one would experience the sight of a tree growing backwards, all the leaves and flowers would return to the embrace of the branches from divinity. We elves believe we are allowed a glimpse into the Garden of The Firmament.’
‘It sounds very beautiful.’ She says.
‘It is truly a fascinating sight. There is no music however. Purely a visual sensation.’ He turns and smiles gently at her. ‘I do wonder how you experience it.’
She pretends to contemplate the offer.
‘Well, you must not play the tune.’ She says, her tone cheeky. ‘It is quite hard to master, and Fae folk tend to be… unsubtle with aerophones.’ She smiles back at him. He rolls his eyes at her small jab.
‘But you can drink the wine.’ She offers him the gourd, her voice grows beguiling.
He takes the gourd from her, his touch setting little fires to her skin as though his fingertips are still glowing. He brings it to his lips, tasting distilled peaches, cherry blossoms and winds shifting through wild grasses. She watches him intently, attempting her best to minimise the significance of their actions: how in her realm, only betrotheds and spouses drink wine from the same container. ‘It must not mean anything here.’ She thinks to herself, tearing her eyes from him, failing to vanquish the irrational spark of hope in her chest.
The Collision commences.
The skyline splits open to welcome the foreign dimension. Every star in the sky is stretched and distorted in the new celestial lens. They are renewed, rejuvenated in front of his eyes and he watches The Tree drawing its children home. She hears cosmic music. Transcendental beings of the past, present and future, all glowing in light-made bodies, all join in a magnificent orchestra. She sees into others and into herself, her lives, in centuries before, as the sky opens one of its many eyes and becomes a mirror. Soon enough, they realise they are both observing the same story:
It was a tale of a poor cub, an anomaly, born to a Fairy Fox Queen and a mortal man. Her nine magical tails, the source of her powers, were cruelly sheared. Thus was she exiled from her kingdom, accursed to die many mortal deaths, trading a hundred years of sufferings for each of her tails.
And so for eight hundred years, her spirit walked the earths under ephemeral identities, all of them ending in tragedies. Yet, during her journey, she was not alone. A beautiful, ageless man with chestnut hair and moonlit eyes was her shadow. Be she a maid or a princess, a blue blood or a bastard, a scholar or a general, a king or a pauper, he loved her. All of her incarnations, identities, material sexes, he loved them all. They were friends, confidants, spouses. The times they had together, of which he referred to as ‘brief moments of joy’ as they spanned but a fraction of the long eight hundred years, were lifetimes of bliss to her mortal minds.
His last sacrifice disrupted and completed her cultivation, and as a result, the dusty cloak of her mortal experience was stripped away from her. She passed the turbulent threshold into her realm, returning one century earlier to her people as the rightful heiress, seemingly unburdened with the thought of him.
Yet the memories only laid dormant, never were to be erased. She is always meant to seek them out. She is always meant to find him.
They look at each other now, without fears or reservations. She remembers him, everything about him. He has haunted her dreams. He is so close to her, so close she can feel his breaths on her cheeks, smelling of sandalwood and the wine she has given him. Her featherlight veil suddenly becomes too dark and heavy.
‘May I?’ He whispers, his hand tracing the fabric.
Instinctively, she clutches the veil tighter to herself. One feeble attempt at maintaining the last shred of their current, fading reality, before embracing the change. His large hand covers hers and her fingers uncurl from their grip, pliant under his touch.
She consents to his request with the smallest of nods.
He lifts up the veil over her face, slowly, and she takes him in, now with clear vision. His face. His eyes. His mischievous elven smile. The sound of his voice. She misses him so much she can cry.
She is as marvellous as he imagines she would be. As he remembers she was. He brings his hand to her cheek and the part of him that is still tense with anxiety breathes a sigh of relief as he comes into contact with soft, warm flesh. His love. Of past and present.
Before bridging the final gap between them and once again tasting heaven on her lips, he searches her beautiful eyes. He imagines a star has landed there. Or perhaps he seeks not a star in their watery depths, but his own light, the beam that she has not so much stolen, but he has willingly parted with.
Bathed in the light of The Collision, the copulation of The Universe, two ethereal lovers, both marked by mortality, uncover the mask of time between them and recognise the soul they have spent centuries seeking. Their joy is insurmountable, and they call one another by their true names as their happiness is, at last, eternal.
‘Benedict’.
‘Sophie’.
.
.
.
.
Author’s Note: *reverse UNO card* surprise it’s also a Reunited fic.
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i need recommendations for some lesbian movies. My wife wants to watching something gay, but is tired of gay men's movies
oh gosh I am so sorry I'm just now getting to this - I was out of town the whole weekend and got back yesterday evening, when my brain was melting out my ears from the heat. without further ado!
I have categorized this list into a few sections:
Well-Made/"Good" Movies I Can Vouch For
Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019): you have probably heard of this, but in case you haven't, it's a French historical drama about a painter who is commissioned to do a wedding portrait for a reluctant bride-to-be. It's lush, emotional, bittersweet, and breathtakingly shot. Content warnings: mention of a minor character's suicide, brief abortion scene featuring a secondary character, one scene of the leads doing drugs together.
Saving Face (2004): This is a lovely film about a young Chinese surgeon who is juggling her secret relationship with the drama her mother causes. Content warnings: intergenerational trauma.
Carol (2014): Again, you've probably heard of this one - it's another historical drama, this one based on Patricia Highsmith's novel The Price of Salt. A young aspiring photographer is captivated by a mysterious woman named Carol. After Portrait came out I find myself not as enamored of this one (I think Rooney Mara is not very good in it lmao), but it's a lovely film worth a watch. Content warnings: period-typical homophobia, Carol's shitty husband.
The Half of It (2020): From the director of Saving Face, this is a high-school coming of age movie inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac, in which a second-generation Chinese girl ends up volunteering to write love letters to her crush, "from" the jock who is also in love with said crush. Some really beautiful stuff about immigrant Chinese families in here, and I was really touched by the friendship between the two leads. Content warnings: racism, homophobia, bullying, intergenerational trauma.
Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (2017): This is based on the life of William Marston, creator of Wonder Woman, and his partners Elizabeth and Olive. I am given to understand that the relationship between the two women was probably not romantic IRL, but I really love the way the movie treats both the triad and the women as a couple. I also think the BDSM stuff is cute. Content warnings: age gap/power differential romance (two professors and their TA), homophobia including a brief violent attack, brief cancer subplot towards the end of the film.
Summerland (2020): A WWII movie about the bond between a reclusive writer and the young boy she is reluctantly forced to care for due to the London evacuations. I will spoil this for you because it gave me severe anxiety: the lesbians both live to the end, and they get to raise their son together! My main complaint is not enough Gugu Mbatha-Raw. Content warnings: WWII imagery/setting, parent death (offscreen but significant part of the plot), brief child peril.
The Favourite (2018): This is a weird little black comedy about two cousins who are vying to be the favored paramour of Queen Anne in 18th century Britain. It's some fun fucked-up drama. Content warnings: animal abuse/death (toward the end of the film), manipulation, non-consensual drugging.
I Can't Think Straight (2008): I haven't seen this one since college but I remember liking it - it's about two women, one Palestinian and one Indian, who meet and fall in love despite unlikely circumstances. Content warnings: cheating (one character is engaged to a man).
V For Vendetta (2005) - in case you forgot, this has lesbians! Content warnings: torture, attempted sexual assault, hanging, child death, panic attack, homophobia/dead lesbians
Birds of Prey (2020) - Harley Quinn is canonically bisexual! Also I love this movie. Content warnings: cartoonish violence, graphic torture including of a child, child death (implied/heard), implied sexual assault by the villain (of a minor character).
Booksmart (2019): High school comedy about two best friends who decide they're sick of being dweebs and want to go to a cool party before they graduate. I think it's largely delightful and I love the lesbian character's story. However, the subplot with the teacher who has sex with her (19yo) student is BAD and I won't defend it, nor will I judge anyone for wanting to skip based on that. Content warnings: extended non-con drugged sequence (played for laughs/nothing bad happens to them), aforementioned age gap/power differential romance (secondary characters).
But I'm a Cheerleader (1999): Clea Duvall and Natasha Lyonne star in a satire of conversion therapy camps, also featuring young Dante Basco. Personally I think it keeps things light and silly enough not to trigger me with the religious rhetoric. Content warnings: conversion camp setting and corresponding conservative Christian rhetoric, general homophobia, uh, RuPaul is here at one point?
In the Heights (2021): This movie is very much not perfect, chiefly for the colorism in the casting choices. BUT I like that Daniela and Carmen are gay now. Content warnings: racism, prejudice against undocumented individuals, grandparent death.
Movies I Think You Should Watch Maybe - Are They Good? I Couldn't Say!
D.E.B.S. (2004): This is a deeply silly movie about an all-girls' spy school in which the star pupil falls in love with international supercriminal Lucy Diamond, directed by queer icon Angela Robinson and featuring lesbian grandma Holland Taylor as the headmaster. Content warnings: cartoonish (PG-13) gun violence.
Imagine Me & You (2005): This was baby's first f/f movie for me, and so it has a very special place in my heart even though it is Problematic because it's about a lady cheating on her husband with Lena Headey, and also nobody remembered bisexuality exists so they say "lesbian" pretty exclusively and that sucks. Lena Headey and Piper Perabo are so good together though, and I genuinely like everyone in this movie. Content warnings: cheating (one character is married to a man).
Happiest Season (2020): Do not @ me this is MY movie!!! Kristen and Mackenzie are PERFECT. Content warnings: homophobia, manipulative behavior, one weirdly intense interrogation scene with mall cops that frankly should've been cut, mentioned fish death.
A Simple Favor (2018): This movie...it is batshit. If you like trashy drama, you will probably like this movie! Linda Cardellini plays a lesbian artist and I love her so much. Content warnings: manipulation, murder, incest (adult half-siblings not raised together), intense discussion of murder-suicide, gun violence
The Falling (2014): This movie is also batshit and not good, but I need more people to watch it, because I've seen it four times and I have no idea what it's trying to say. It features Maisie Williams and Florence Pugh as British boarding school teens who have an intense "friendship" and then suddenly everyone in the school starts having collective fainting spells. Please, I just need to find the person out there who gets what this movie is doing so they can explain it to me. Content warnings: unexplained medical issues (fainting), seizures, incest (consensual? sex scene), attempted suicide, grief, discussion of sexual assault and trauma therein (secondary character)
A New York Christmas Wedding (2020): This movie is ALSO batshit in a completely different way than the other two, and again, I need someone to explain it to me. It's, uh, sort of It's a Wonderful Life but with a bisexual heroine, and some batshittery along the way? Content warnings: suicide (secondary character), teen pregnancy, weird pro-life vibes, parent death, way too much church, homophobia, Chris Noth
Movies I Haven't Yet Seen Which Have Been Recc'd To Me
Crush (2022)
Pariah (2011)
Ma Rainey's Black Bottom (2020)
Fear Street Trilogy (2021)
The Handmaiden (2016)
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