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lydiahosek · 2 months

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Godmother

[My story for the @inklings-challenge Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge. Thank you very much for hosting!]

Once upon a time, a woman lay on her deathbed in despair. She had hope of eternal life but still was sad to leave the world. She was sad to leave her beloved and loving husband without a wife. Most of all, she was sad to leave her little daughter without a mother. With her last breaths, she whispered, “Watch over her…let her be happy.”

Little did she know a fairy was among those who heard.

Fairies commonly kept watch over human affairs in those days. Being immortal, births and deaths especially fascinated them. They were forbidden to interfere or make themselves known – doing so had led to disaster in the past. Even so, every once in a while a fairy would take an interest (either mischievous or benevolent) in a human and pursue it. They worked in little ways – leading game to a hungry hunter or hiding a favorite necklace from a vain lady. This sort of thing was generally understood and overlooked. Those who took it too far, though, were never seen again.

This fairy, whose name was Avellana, was invisible to the family gathered in the little room, but she heard the desperation in the mother’s voice and saw the tears on the daughter’s face. She had marveled at the love between parent and child more than anything over all her years of observation. She saw now an opportunity to honor it.

The little girl, whose name was Marielle, mourned alongside her father. Avellana let them be for the first weeks – the trifles she could provide would do little to lift them out of it. One afternoon, though, again concealed from sight, she returned to the house to find Marielle listlessly gathering the hazelnuts that had fallen from the tree in the backyard. She was kneeling on the ground and did not get back up even after all of the nuts had been collected. Avellana thought about other little girls she had seen and what sort of things made them happy. Glancing at the nearby wood, she had an inspiration.

In the blink of an eye she was fifty paces deep into the wood in a thick cluster of trees. In the middle of these trees was a warren. She crouched down to it and found what she sought – a family of rabbits. She beckoned and the largest one hopped out. She led it through the trees, out of the wood, straight to the edge of the yard where Marielle still knelt. Then she bid it wait there until the girl noticed her visitor.

Marielle looked up and gasped as she met the rabbit’s eyes. She was gentle by nature and had been taught to be gentle with nature, so she kept very still, much as she would have loved to rise and stroke the rabbit’s soft gray fur. And when Avellana let the rabbit do as it pleased, it actually hopped closer to the girl, sniffing at the grass and tiny wildflowers, before returning to its home.

Marielle stared after it and Avellana stared at Marielle. Perhaps she had expected too much – she had never done anything like this before – but she couldn’t tell if the encounter had made any difference at all.

Marielle’s father called her inside for supper. Avellana followed and watched the pair eat in silence for some time. Then Marielle spoke up: “I saw a rabbit outside.”

Marielle’s father smiled faintly. “Oh? There haven’t been any around in a few years. Well, except for…” He nodded his head toward the ceiling.

Marielle nodded back. She wondered aloud whether it would return and they began discussing ways to make it and its family feel welcome.

Puzzled, Avellana looked up at the ceiling, then guessed that Marielle’s father had been indicating something on the second floor of the house. In the blink of an eye she was in the room exactly above where they still sat - a bedroom. On the bed sat a rabbit made of cloth with shiny button eyes. I’ll give my left wing if Marielle’s mother didn’t make that for her, she thought. Satisfied, she returned to the fairy world.

Things went on in that way for a few years. Avellana continued to visit other human households with other fairies, but every few weeks she would check in on Marielle by herself. The girl and her father had decided to plant a garden, and while that same rabbit never called on her again, it attracted countless other creatures – bees and butterflies drank nectar from the flowers, mice and hedgehogs hid among (and sampled from) the berry bushes and the vegetable patch. They even dug a small pond at the far end of the yard, where human and animal travelers alike could stop to drink. Marielle stayed outside to watch the activity whenever she could.

Avellana always left a gift of some kind. She persuaded the berries to grow larger and sweeter just as Marielle made ready to pick them. She showed the birds what a lovely place for a nest the hazel tree would make. She mended a tear in Marielle’s dress before it was even noticed. She was pleased with herself – the girl was kindhearted and hardworking and it was a delight to bring such little niceties into her life now and again.

One day Avellana’s friends urged her to join them – they were on their way to see a human wedding. Avellana was surprised to see that it happened to be in Marielle’s village. She was even more surprised to see that it was Marielle’s father getting married! Marielle stood at his side at the front of the church. Next to his new bride stood two girls about Marielle’s age. Well, Avellana thought, Marielle will have a new mother, and two sisters besides! Now she understood – her role had been to watch over the girl until someone else arrived to take her place. It would be bittersweet – she had enjoyed her visits to the house – but such was the difference between the fairy and human worlds, the one constant and the other ever-changing. She supposed that was one reason it was discouraged for the two to cross paths.

But while she no longer considered herself needed by her, eventually Avellana simply missed Marielle. She had never followed one human’s life so closely for so long, and others, despite their novelty, didn’t seem as interesting. She wanted to know how Marielle fared. She wanted to know how the garden fared. Most of all, she wanted to know how her father’s new wife fared as Marielle’s stepmother. She decided that it wouldn’t hurt to drop by one evening and take a look.

When she arrived, the house was quiet and the family was eating supper – well, most of them were. Marielle’s stepmother sat at the head of the table, with one of her daughters on either side of her. Marielle sat at the other end, and Avellana couldn’t be sure, but it looked like her portion of food was smaller than the others’. But where was her father? In the blink of an eye Avellana was in the next room, then the next, until she reached the master bedroom. There she saw him lying in bed, asleep but trembling, a thin sheen of sweat upon his brow. A horrible foreboding settled in Avellana’s heart. She pulled the blankets tighter around him. It seemed to help, but, she reflected, what did she really know about this sort of thing? Worried, she returned to the fairy world.

All too soon, her premonition was realized. She stood invisible in the back of the room as Marielle’s father breathed his last. Great as the girl’s sorrow had been for the death of her mother, the Marielle of that night would have looked cold compared to this one. She sobbed, clutching her father’s hands and begging him not to go long after he had. Above them both stood her stepmother, who would have looked cold compared to a block of ice. She told Marielle to shut her trap before she woke her stepsisters, who were asleep in their own bedroom down the hall.

So Marielle mourned her father alone. This time, Avellana could barely stand to wait a week before returning to the house, and once there she felt it had not been soon enough. She found Marielle stirring a large pot of porridge while her stepfamily sat at the table, waiting. She watched the girl fill three bowls and set them down on the table, then stand to the side anxiously. She heard one stepsister complain that there was not enough sugar, the other that there were too many lumps. The stepmother had only to give Marielle a look and she was scrambling back to the kitchen to start the recipe over.

Avellana began visiting the house more and more often, for the stepfamily’s cruelty to Marielle grew greater and greater. She had been made into a servant in her own home. Her stepmother bid her cook every meal, clean every room, mend every piece of clothing. Her own daughters did no work and paid no attention to Marielle except to occasionally amuse themselves by teasing her or blaming her for minor calamities like a crack in a teacup. Her stepmother believed every word they said and then some, and not a day passed but she scolded Marielle for something or other. If Marielle washed the windows quickly, she was told she was being sloppy. If she took her time to work carefully, she was called lazy. Such offenses always carried harsh punishments, too. Denial of food was a favorite. Another was the immediate undoing of whatever chore Marielle had just completed, so that it had to be redone – a bowl of soup emptied onto a freshly-polished floor, for example.

One particularly awful night, in response to some perceived slight, her stepmother snatched her cloth rabbit from her bed, brought it downstairs, and threw it into the fire. Marielle tried to rescue the keepsake, but it was too late. She stayed curled at the fireside weeping until she fell asleep. Restoring the rabbit or even bringing the sleeping girl upstairs would have raised too much suspicion, but Avellana at least coaxed the fire to stay lit and keep the girl warm until sunrise. When she woke, however, she found that one of her stepsisters had claimed her bedroom for herself. “You were obviously perfectly comfortable by the fire,” her stepmother said. “There’s no sense in my daughters continuing to share a room when another one is available. Is there?”

Rather than be denied breakfast for being senseless, Marielle answered quietly, “No, ma’am.”

The fireplace, then, became Marielle’s place in the same way a cupboard is a broom’s. She slept there every night and sat there every day to eat her meager meals. When there was nothing else to be done around the house, her stepmother bid her clean it, a job that was never truly finished and the residue of which never fully left Marielle’s skin or hair or clothes. “Look at her,” the stepsisters said, “Soon she’ll be nothing but one big cinder.” The three left off even using her name, referring to her instead as “Cinder-girl”.

Things went on in that way for several years. Avellana visited practically every day, but now she had to be doubly careful – not to give herself away, and not to accidentally make things even worse for Marielle. She sent cool breezes through the house when Marielle was bent over steaming tubs of laundry. She caused the floorboards to creak so that Marielle would look down just before she would have stepped on a stray pin. She told the birds to fly to the window nearest the fireplace and sing – and this she had to do only once, for Marielle smiled and laid crumbs from her own plate on the sill to say thank you. They were regular visitors from then on. Inspired, Marielle then took to leaving tiny scraps at the doorway and so made friends with the mice from the garden as well.

Marielle was Avellana’s new greatest marvel of humanity. She had seen others give ill treatment back for far less than what Marielle had endured, or for nothing at all. Marielle shrank in her stepmother’s presence and scurried at the sound of her voice, but otherwise took any opportunity to smile, to share, to receive of or contribute to the beauty of the world. Avellana would give her any opportunity she could.

One day, though, back in the fairy world, a friend of Avellana’s pulled her aside. “This must not continue,” she said. “Do not fool yourself into believing nobody has noticed.”

Avellana saw no harm in playing innocent. “Noticed what?”

“Your fixation on the little cinder-girl that lives on the edge of the wood.”

“Don’t call her th-"

“You see?”

Avellana was silent.

“They live such short lives. One way or another her suffering will end,” she said in a way that chilled Avellana’s heart. “In the meantime, you are endangering yourself. You are endangering all of us. Sooner or later she will realize she is being favored and wonder why and by whom. When they learn of our power, they want it for themselves. When they cannot have it, they seek to control us or destroy us, and in their efforts they destroy themselves. You see? You are endangering even her.”

Avellana’s wings bristled with indignation, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “That is not her way. And I have kept the both of us safe for more than half her life.”

“Look at how you started and see how it has grown. Do you believe things will never worsen for her again? They will. And when they do you will not be satisfied with berries and breezes. You will do something irreversible, something she cannot attribute to a caprice of nature or her own forgetfulness. And when you do, rather than risk their discovery of us, you will be forced to pay the price.” She placed her hands on Avellana’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You see? I fear for you.”

Avellana saw, and she saw this was not a fear of the unknown. ��What – "

“You will be cast out of our world. You will lose your power. You will live as a human, grow old, and one day, you will die.”

Every word was a blow, but the last was a dagger. Death – foreign to fairies and feared above all else by humans. What misery it caused them, as Avellana and her friends had witnessed time and again. What misery it had wrought in Marielle’s life, and she was not even the one who had died. And what of those who did? No more to work in and move through and partake of the world, no more to be with the ones they loved. Avellana’s entire body trembled.

“You see? Better to end it now, before you are lost completely.” And with that, she left.

It was weeks before Avellana made another trip to the human world, and then only to other villages. Her friends were glad that she had apparently seen reason, but she herself knew no peace, plagued by the thought of Marielle abandoned. Eventually, she could bear it no longer and returned to the house. She told herself that she would do nothing but look in on her, for both of their sakes. After all, she would be no good at all to Marielle if she died, would she? And surely she didn’t have to give her up entirely. She told herself that from now on she would only visit as often as she had when Marielle was a little girl, and only leave gifts in extreme circumstances (ignoring the extreme circumstances that made up Marielle’s everyday life). She was a young woman now, and a strong one at that. She would persevere.

In that case, though, why was she returning at all?

She arrived at early evening - the same time as, of all things, a royal carriage. A herald in a blue uniform and holding a scroll leapt out, marched to the front door, and knocked. Marielle, of course, was the one to answer and accept the message. She brought it to the parlor, where her stepmother was sitting with a cup of tea.

She turned to Marielle. “Well?’ she said sharply, but her eyes widened when she saw the royal seal on the scroll. She snatched it from Marielle’s hands and tore it open. Skimming its contents, she called her daughters to the room to hear the news: The king, queen, and prince were to host a ball at the royal palace. Every member of the kingdom was invited, and every maiden of marriageable age was especially encouraged to attend. The stepsisters began squealing and chattering in excitement. Their mother quieted them just long enough to announce, “Tomorrow we go to town.” Turning to Marielle, with a thin smile, she added, “I will be ordering three new dresses from the tailor’s shop.” Marielle’s smile put the setting sun to shame.

Oh, what could be more perfect! Avellana thought. A ball! Even Marielle’s stepmother, it appeared, could not ignore a royal proclamation and would not deprive her of her right to go. A night of festivity for her, at last! A new dress for her, at last! (Marielle had had no new clothes since her father died – she simply added more and more patches to her childhood things as she grew or wore them out.) And once there, she could meet new people – perhaps a business owner to whom she could apprentice herself? Perhaps a young man to whom she could endear herself? Bah – she could even hide in some corridor until morning and then pass herself off as a palace servant. It would still be a better life than this. Yes, the ball would be not only her respite but her rescue. She would be happy, Avellana could rest easy, and all would be well.

Avellana did not visit again until the night of the ball. There was no doubt in her mind that she would see Marielle off into her new life, whatever form it took. She even considered granting her one last gift, a sort of farewell, and giddily wondered what it would be. When the time came, she would know what was right.

A hired coach sat in the road and the bustle of last-minute preparations filled the house. The front door opened and the two stepsisters sauntered to the coach in their new finery. But then Avellana heard the stepmother’s voice coldly say “Goodnight” before she followed them out. Of course – the third new gown had been for her! She had never intended to bring Marielle to the ball at all but pretended to simply to mock her! Avellana could have ripped both her wings off for not realizing it before. She wondered how long Marielle had known.

Not very, it appeared, or perhaps their departure simply reopened the wound, for as soon as the coach was out of sight, the back door burst open and Marielle ran from the house to the hazel tree, where she collapsed in tears. In the blink of an eye Avellana was standing over her, and it was all she could do not to wrap her arms around the shuddering figure.

This…this was too much. Or rather, it had been too much from the beginning, and Avellana only now understood. The stepmother would never change. This must not continue...Her friend’s words of warning rang in her head, but Marielle’s cries were louder.

Avellana took a step back and thought. If she had her way she would transform the house into a palace of Marielle’s own, with full wardrobes and feather beds and gardens and menageries and banquets every night, and with the stepfamily forbidden to enter. If the fairy world had its way she would do nothing at all. There had to be something in between.

Marielle was still huddled against the tree, sniffling, by the time Avellana decided. So as not to frighten her, she stood about ten paces away. She summoned a rabbit from the wood to the base of the tree and waited for Marielle to notice it.

“Hello there,” she said, wiping her eyes and trying to smile. “A little late for you to be out, isn’t it?’ Avellana called the rabbit back in her direction and Marielle’s eyes followed it. Just before they reached her, Avellana removed her layer of invisibility.

What she hadn’t expected about allowing herself to be seen was how differently she would see. The moon and stars were covered by clouds this night, but even so - it was as if she had always looked at the human world through a veil, and now the veil was lifted. Perhaps in making herself visible she had already sealed her fate, but perhaps not. She was here not to do anything permanent, only to restore things to how they should have been in the first place. And Marielle deserved to know that it was due not to luck or chance, but because there was someone who chose it. Avellana’s heart leapt as Marielle’s eyes met hers for the first time.

“Oh, my dear girl.” The words were out before Avellana could stop them.

Marielle remained frozen in place, her eyes wide and jaw slack. “Who are you?”

Avellana had wondered about how to explain herself, but then she remembered a human word she had heard often over the years. She now only hoped she was not completely unworthy of it. “I’m your godmother.”

“I…have a fairy for a godmother?”

Avellana could see the questions multiplying in her head and knew she had to stave them off. “We haven’t much time.” She moved toward her slowly. “Do you still wish to go to the ball?”

This broke her out of her awe. She looked down, almost embarrassed, then up, close to crying again. “More than anything.”

“Well, then that is what you shall do!”

Marielle rose to her feet with caution, not taking her eyes from Avellana. “I have nothing to bargain w-“

“No bargain. A gift.” She couldn’t help but grin as Marielle blinked in confusion. “But I cannot create out of nothing. Now...” She surveyed the yard. The largest thing in it was a pumpkin from the vegetable patch. “Roll that into the road for me, will you please?”

Marielle instantly obeyed, and Avellana chided herself for giving her yet another task. But the less she did herself the better, and she still had plenty to do. In the blink of an eye she was in the branches of the hazel tree. She woke one of the birds and sent it to sit on top of the pumpkin. Then she was in the garden and sent four mice and two hedgehogs to the road as well.

She joined Marielle and the odd assembly in the road and advised her to stand back. Then she commanded the pumpkin to grow and change. Its rind became gold, its vines curled into wheels, and it was soon a carriage grander than the one Marielle’s stepfamily had ridden away in. In the same way she turned the mice into horses to draw it, the bird into a human to drive it, and the hedgehogs into humans to serve as footmen.

Marielle was still gaping at this when Avellana said “Now you.” With a strong gust of wind she whisked every last bit of ash and grime from Marielle’s body and arranged her hair in a flattering style. Then she spoke to the threadbare clothing and bid it become a gold and silver gown that would be the finest at any fairy ball, let alone a human one. And the shoes – the shoes were her masterpiece. Marielle’s had deteriorated to thin straps of leather held in place by frayed strings. Avellana turned them into slippers made of glass and trimmed with gold, sparkling with every movement.

“It’s just a shame they’ll be hidden beneath the skirts,” Marielle said with admiration. She twirled about, poked one foot out from under the hem, twirled about again.

“A far greater beauty has been kept hidden and unappreciated…Marielle,” Avellana added, for when was the last time she had heard herself called by her name? She stopped mid-twirl and blushed, smiling shyly.

Avellana began shepherding her toward the carriage. One of the former-hedgehog footmen opened the door with a pleasant if vacant expression. “Now, there is one more thing, very important. As the day begins anew so must everything else. At the twelfth stroke of midnight, all will return to its former state.” This was a common trick among fairies who liked toying with humans. The recipient of such a gift would go to sleep drunk on his good fortune and wake to find his pocketful of jewels (re)turned to pebbles. “You must be out of sight when this happens.” This would still give Marielle hours at the ball, which she would surely put to good use. The evidence of Avellana’s involvement would be destroyed, and there would be no witnesses (besides Marielle) of its destruction. Avellana started to feel hopeful. What grounds would there be to punish her?

Marielle nodded as the other foothog helped her into the carriage. “I promise…and thank you…but…why?” And Avellana knew she was not asking about the direction she had just been given.

Oh, of all the questions to slip out, this was the most difficult to answer! Avellana hesitated, then simply leaned through the carriage window and kissed her on the forehead. The two beamed at each other for a long moment, then Avellana whispered “Go.”

The bird-turned-driver heard her and the carriage glided off into the night. Avellana hid herself from sight once more – her own vision slightly clouded once more – and followed it all the way to the palace, every now and again looking in to see Marielle watch the village rush past her or soothe her happy nerves by smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her dress. By the time they arrived everyone else was inside and had been for some time. Marielle stayed in the carriage to take a few deep breaths, then burst out and strode up the palace steps with joyful determination.

The grand ballroom was full to the brim, with only just enough empty space in the center for dancing. Avellana noticed several fairies along the back walls and in corners and tried to carry herself as blithely as any of them. Marielle moved through the crowd, leaving a trail of turned heads and whispers in her wake. Nobody recognized the beautiful latecomer in the stunning dress, but she greeted everyone who met her eyes – “Hello!” “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” “What a lovely cravat!” – as she made her way to the buffet.

She stood at the table sampling every dish, swaying to the music and taking in the grandeur of the room and its occupants. As she reached for the last pastry on one of the trays, her hand collided with another. She looked up to see a young man on the other side of the table, looking at her. For a moment they both completely forgot about the food.

“…Oh! –"

“Pardon me, I –"

Each insisted the other have the pastry until Marielle took it and tore it down the middle, a thread of chocolate cream stretching between the two halves. She offered one to him and he took it, laughing. When both halves were eaten, he asked if she would care to dance.

They were inseparable the rest of the night. They were partners for the next dozen dances, until he noticed more than a few envious pairs of eyes on them. Then he offered to show her the palace gardens. On the way he asked a servant to notify his mother and father that he had stepped out for air. The servant answered “Yes, Your Highness”, which was how Marielle learned that she had caught the eye of the prince.

Avellana was exultant. Marielle deserved nothing less, and she looked happier than Avellana had ever seen her. She kept watch over the pair as they strolled past lush flowerbeds and navigated the hedge maze. They remained hand-in-hand even after sitting to rest beneath a statue of one or another of his ancestors.

None of them realized how much time was passing until the palace clock tower began the first of twelve chimes signaling midnight.

Marielle sprang up, stammered out a few apologetic words, and took off running for the main entrance. The prince sat stunned and confused for a few seconds, then tried to follow, but Marielle had a head start and the gap between them only widened.

Tears of panic and regret were already glinting in her eyes. The clock tower was the oldest structure in the kingdom and it would be almost a minute before its bells sounded twelve times, which helped, but not by much. Her dress, her carriage – everything was going to dissolve into nothing and leave her a stranded cinder-girl once more. She could only hope the kindest, most charming man she had ever met didn’t see it happen. As she sped down the palace steps she felt herself lose one of her shoes but simply continued, now lopsided, until she reached the golden carriage. It was rolling away before the prince even reached the top of the steps.

Oh! – bless her obedient little heart!! Avellana thought in anxious frustration. Marielle was going right back to that house, right back to that life, and it would weigh on her all the more now that she had tasted something different. The prince didn’t know where to find her, and even if he did, the night was so dim and she was so changed – would he even recognize her? And yet it was all Avellana’s fault anyway - what else would she have had Marielle do? The clock was already on its tenth chime, and there was no telling what would have come from the dress returning to rags in front of the prince and the entire assembly. As it was, she would have to make sure he didn’t notice the lost shoe on the stairs transforming back into scraps of leather.

Unless…

The clock struck eleven.

Unless it didn’t.

Yes. The slipper was the answer. No one else in the kingdom had its like. No one else had left the ball so early. He would see it and know it had been lost by the lady he had lost. He would organize a search. Once the shoe found its partner, so would the wearer.

The stroke of midnight rang out. With all her might the fairy ordered both slippers to never return to leather, to never become lost or stolen from Marielle or the prince, and to never, never break.

In the blink of an eye and a flash of light, Avellana felt her connection to the fairy world severed forever, the veil not only lifted again but torn to shreds.

Well.

…She could attend to that later. But had she done it for nothing? Or had the prince found the slipper? She waited for the light to fade so she could look.

When it didn’t, she realized with mounting horror that it was the sun, which meant it was noon, which meant she was on the other side of the world. As her (human!) eyes adjusted, she saw that she was at a bustling marketplace, filled with people wearing clothes she had never seen before and speaking in a language she didn’t understand. She had been dropped at its edge, where busy shoppers and vendors didn’t notice her sudden appearance.

She half-sat, half-collapsed onto the ground. She could see the logic of it. Remove her from the place where she had already done so much meddling. Give the humans no sign, no explanation, no reward if they tried to investigate. Let them give up and forget. Remain safely undetected. Let her serve as a warning to other fairies be more careful than she had.

The marketplace was near a river. She crawled to its bank, already feeling faint beneath the sun. As she drank she caught her reflection. She was surprised to see that she still looked like herself, and yet her self looked ridiculous in this place. Her robes were already staining with dirt and sweat and the flowers in her hair were already wilting. And her wings, her beautiful wings were gone completely! She drew back to the scant shade of the nearest tree and stayed there until dusk, until nightfall, until the next morning.

Not knowing where else to go, Avellana stayed at the marketplace for weeks. Occasionally a passerby would give her a bit of food or a few coins. Eventually she had picked up enough of the language to earn more by performing small chores for the various vendors – making deliveries and such. Some were kind, others were harsh, but none were even close to Marielle’s stepmother. A merchant who was the stepmother’s opposite in practically every way brought Avellana to his house to join a team of servants. Slowly she learned to cook and wash and mend. She thought of Marielle every day, wondering if she was doing these same tasks or if she escaped her stepfamily. If she was happy.

Avellana preferred the time she spent minding the children. She even assisted with the birth of the youngest, an experience which made every birth she had witnessed as a fairy feel like a barely-remembered dream. The other women told stories to the children and each other as they worked, stories of hapless heroes and cruel tyrants and supernatural creatures, invented on the spot and repeated if they were well-liked. In this way, Avellana felt it safe to share tales from her former life. Everyone’s favorite, though, was the one about the kind and beautiful young woman forced to work as a cinder-girl, who was ultimately rescued and married a prince. Though Avellana knew her words no longer held that kind of power, she would lie down at night, waiting to fall asleep, begging the story to be true.

Things went on in that way for many years. The merchant’s children grew and founded households of their own. Just as Avellana thought she was accustomed to life as a human, she found herself becoming weary more easily and ill more often. She had a store of coins she had saved over the years, in hope of what she now decided she would finally have to try. She ventured to the town library and pored over its collection of maps. She bid farewell to the merchant’s family. She followed the river for months, her coins dwindling as she stopped for food and lodging. At last she reached a port. She asked carefully for every ship’s destination, found what she sought, and secured a place in the galley on a vessel bound for Marielle’s kingdom.

The voyage was long and the work was rough. When she stumbled onto land at its end she nearly wept for joy at the sight of the palace far in the distance. It was still the work of some days to walk there, but something deep within her urged her forward. On a fair, mild day she arrived just as the clock tower was striking noon, which turned out to be not a moment too soon or too late. There, among the dozens of people moving through the grounds, was Marielle, with the man who she met as the prince but who now wore the crest and the crown of a king. They walked hand-in-hand, just as they had done in the gardens all those years ago. Surrounding them were children, many nearly grown. This…this was enough.

Avellana turned to go, she knew or cared not where, but she was only a few steps from the palace gates when she felt her strength spent and fell to the ground.

She heard commotion behind her but could not even turn her head to look. She heard a man’s voice commanding that the gates be opened, she heard two sets of footsteps rapidly approaching, she heard another man say something about “just a beggar” and she heard her Marielle’s voice bidding him be silent. A pair of hands turned Avellana onto her back and there she was, staring down in concern. Changed as they both were by the years and so much else, the concern in her eyes turned to astonishment and recognition. “You!”

She told her husband to bring the children inside. She also told a guard to fetch the physician, but as she looked back down at Avellana she seemed to lose confidence in the idea. Gently as she could, Marielle helped Avellana to sit slightly up, her head resting in her lap.

“Thank you,” Avellana said, her voice crackling like a dwindling fire.

Marielle shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “Thank you…I –“

“Shhh.” Avellana gave a smile. She caught sight of Marielle returning it just as her eyes were starting to flutter closed.

Marielle kissed the old woman on the forehead, looked up to the heavens, and whispered, “Watch over her…let her be happy.”

I have hope that she was heard.

#inklingschallenge #cinderella #death #grief #abuse #homelessness?#classism?#theme: agape #story: complete #long post #this completely got away from me im sorry #my writing

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jauntilyplacedcaps · 5 months

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#glee #gleeedit #quinn fabray #sam evans #fabrevans #season 3 #3x09 #episode: extraordinary merry christmas #place: homeless shelter #place: ohio #duo #white #brown #theme: christmas #theme: holidays

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radioactive-earthshine · 1 year

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Wait.

Conner was homeless and Cassie didn't help him?

Weren't they dating at the time?

Where was Clark?

Tim?

Bart?

I have so many questions.

I avoided reading all of Superboy because of the unforgivable sexism but now I'm figuring that might have been a mistake.

1.) Conner was homeless and Cassie didn't help him?

Nope. Dan Didio did her extremely dirty.

Superboy #94 I don't even want to show the whole page of this because it is severely gross, but Cassie basically tells Kon to leave, despite Young Justice's HQs being more than large enough to accommodate him, and for some reason he was sharing a room with Slo-bo.... when it was more than large enough to house him.... idk.

"Stop depending on others" when you are BOTH sixteen and are in a TEAM where you HAVE to depend on each other to me sounds out of character for her, or at least in poor taste as it strips the compassion from her.

Didio decided this was the route to go with her, I'm not sure if he forgot these were sixteen year olds, or if he just didn't care, because either way it's not fair of a move to pull. You can argue that it's definitely something a teenager would pull but I think Cassie would at least have compassion here for Kon, even if she is a little high strung at this time and also dealing with PTSD (likely).

Cassie did recognize later in the issue that she was "rough" on him and it ends on a hopeful note that a new start for Kon would be good, but it doesn't bode to be a positive experience. His move was done on a sinking raft.

In a hypothetical situation where things go better and Cassie recognizes that it is unfair to demand that Kon leave when she herself has a home, a mother, and a large support system to protect her, I feel like she would allow Kon to stay at Young Justice like she allowed Slo-bo to stay.

2.) Weren't they dating at the time?

Nope. They didn't get together until later, they were flirting at this time in varying intensity. They both clearly liked each other but neither really made the push to make it anything more than being friends and annoying the hell out each other.

3. ) Where was Clark?

When Kon was actually homeless and looking for a place to live he was not present. A relator thought Superman was logically Kon's father but Kon quickly corrected that assumption and it cost him a place to live.

In issue #100 Clark reveals that sometime during the time Kon took up residency in Metropolis in the apartment complex he was working/living at, he had Jimmy filling him in on the chaotic events going on, but other than that he was not involved.

Clark did here what he should have done a long, long time ago. You can write a lot of meta, analysis and critiques for why it took Clark so long to act in this moment, and it would all be fair, but in the end he did finally help Kon.

Clark does eventually involve himself and save Kon from exploitation and a second homeless situation, thus ending Kon's comic series. He was too late, but he did solve the issue.

4.) Tim?

He had taken a leave of absence from Young Justice directly after the Our World at War story arc that preceded Kon's homelessness, so it's likely he didn't even KNOW this was going on.

Kon and Tim got into a huge fight as well, and it contributed to Tim's motivation for quitting because he didn't want to stay where he wasn't trusted (PTSD thanks to Granny Goodness as well).

Kon also did not know Tim's identity at this time, and he doesn't find it out until after The World Without Young Justice arc that takes place around Superboy #99. They're not really on speaking terms here from issues #94-#98, and in the majority of Young Justice they have more of a peer-based relationship than a friendly one. They do CARE about each other, but it's not this deep wholesome best friend relationship that Geoff John's made it into in TTv3 right out of the gate. They're not there, yet.

Tim comes back on the team AFTER the World Without Young Justice arc when his identity is revealed via Matt Stewart's meddling with events, by this time Kon is in Kansas with Ma and Pa Kent and the situation is over, his series is over.

In the hypothetical situation where Tim did know that Kon was homeless, I'd think he'd probably reach out to Dick over Bruce at this time and ask what they should do. Tim more often sought Dick out for these sorts of things than he did Bruce, and I feel like it would remind Dick of when Donna was homeless during his time as a Titan.

It would go from there I think, and Kon might have actually had a swifter response from Clark or maybe Kara or someone else with Dick sounding the alarm, but that's just one angle and all a "what if" and we cannot hold this as fact because... it's hypothetical.

It would make a GREAT premise for a fix-it fanfic.

TLDR: He just likely didn't know and they weren't close enough for Tim to know, but if he did he'd most likely ask Dick "WHAT DO?"

5.) Bart?

Bart left Young Justice at the same time as Tim did due to PTSD, however Kon knew exactly who Bart was at this time and they were very close friends. Out of everyone on Young Justice, they were the closest. Even so, Bart (likely) would not have known that this was going on with Kon as he had distanced himself from his teammates.

There was a point during one of the Impulse comics that Bart needed help for one of his cases, and he briefly considered reaching out to Young Justice but STOPPED because he had quit, he felt it was not a viable option, therefore it is logical to assume he was not communicating with anyone from his team.

Also to note, during this period of time of 2002, cellphones were not readily available (yet) and email, instant messaging and direct (expensive!) phone calls would have been the primary way to keep in touch over long distance, for them they of course could just meet up and chat but the comics don't show this happening when Bart left the team.

Kon likely never reached out for help, because Cassie told him to "stop depending on others" and it pushed a button for Kon to be stubborn and try to fix his own situation so he probably didn't even think to say "Oh hey btw I'm homeless!" (in fact the word 'homeless' doesn't even come up).

Had Bart known Kon was homeless and needed help, he might have asked Max for advice on what to do like Tim might with Dick, and Max has shown that when children are in peril (like with Cissie being abused by her mother) he will act.

I feel like Max would probably pull what Bruce did with Clark in YJA and tell him that he NEEDS to be there for him, NOW. It would likely be a push to get a more prompt reaction. Again though, this did not happen and is speculative.

Also, Max's 'death' almost overlaps Kon's homeless situation so another factor that can contribute to Bart not being able to help, or knowing, was that Bart himself was in crisis and in a full new transition from one household to another.

TLDR: Bart and Kon were extremely close at this time, but due to personal circumstances they likely just did not communicate well enough to convey the situation.

6.) I have so many questions.

Me too, why was Didio allowed to write anything, why couldn't he just remain a producer? He produced the Orion solo and that was amazing.

7.) I avoided reading all of Superboy because of the unforgivable sexism but now I'm figuring that might have been a mistake.

No, not a mistake. Not wanting to come across a lot of the more gross and unsavory themes that are depicted all throughout Kon's comics are a valid reason to skip it, however it is unfortunate that in order to really grasp him it would be extremely advisable to read it. If you are really deeply triggered by those gross themes, then don't hurt yourself, but if it is something you can consume to glean the rest of the events that are formative to Kon, I would suggest it.

#kon el #conner kent #superfam #tim drake #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #young justice #superboy #homelessness #poorly done themes in comics #fucking dan didio #i hate how he wrote cassie #i hate how he wrote kon #meta #mine

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paellegere · 2 months

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the great tragedy of supernatural is that it has lines it's not allowed to cross. it can't depict textual incest or even too much maladaptive affection; it can't show the reality of prolonged homelessness or food insecurity or the actual dangers of fraud and theft; it can't delve too deep into the lasting effects of abuse and neglect or trauma; it can't talk about political issues in any meaningful way—it can't contain anything too morally objectionable or uncomfortable for viewers. it has to build and maintain a fantasy that lets people ignore what they don't like. and that's a shame because of its roots in horror, so instead of being free to explore the themes and elements that form the show's foundation, a lot of it is left to subtext, to subtle nods, to "if you know you know" moments.

what the show does manage to depict on screen is rich and captivating, but at the end of the day it has an image to maintain that doesn't align with the reality of its own themes. the show is at odds with itself and its executives, and over time it gets progressively scrubbed clean just like the gritty, low saturation, high contrast lighting of early seasons. it departs even further from its horror foundation, relegates more and more of its worldbuilding and characterization to subtext, or even just memories of the past.

i just think it's a shame that despite its (original) genre, it faced so much opposition and so much sanitization that it never really had a chance to go all-in with its world and characters, and that what little it was able to depict was sucked away over time until it became a ghost of the american gothic horror it once was.

#supernatural #rewatching season 1 with a friend has reminded me of what the show used to be. that being completely deranged #like there's so many nods to the actual reality of their lives: food insecurity; isolation; fear; trauma; abuse; legal trouble #etc etc #but even then it's not allowed to explicitly talk about i.e. the stress and trauma of lifelong homelessness #i included incest in this post because incest is a staple of gothic horror and this show being 'the epic love story of sam and dean'#does actually make several nods to the freudian horrors of their maladaptive relationship #this show was built on the back of these horrific themes and tropes and it shows. and then it's watered down and sanitized #and painted with prettier colors for a wider audience to find more palatable #supernatural deserved to be the horror it wanted to be. i'll die on this hill #not that i particularly hate the direction the show went. it's far more complicated than that. but i still lament the loss #you know how it is #.txt #the winchester gospel #spn posting

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duckapus · 6 months

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SMGWare

4 and 3 decide they want to make a video game about Memes, and convince the rest of the crew to help them...even though none of them know the first thing about game development This results in them making what's basically a meme-filled knockoff of the WarioWare microgame collection format that somehow gets super popular. This understandably angers Wario, so he dons his biker outfit, calls up the WarioWare crew, and decides to Do Something About It. And by "Something" I of course mean Violence.

This actually leads to a cliffhanger ending, where despite things seemingly getting resolved, Wario finds a package at his and Waluigi's lot with his name and a weird TV Symbol on it...

#smg4 #episode idea #warioware #smg3 #wario #tv adware #it's not leading to a full arc this time but it IS leading to an overarching storyline with a warioware-themed wotfi at the end #and hopefully involving the wario bros not being homeless anymore #think i'll call it...#A Developer Scorned

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yikes077 · 2 months

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Yes I know I’m a gay, democratic, liberal, little snowflake, but I would do so well on Fox News. I just love telling little lies and blowing shit out of proportion

#like I’m not even kidding #I’m blonde and white and love making shit up #just let me on there #I can spew random bullshit #im really desperate for a job I will debase all of my morals please just someone give me a jobs with money #I’m a creative writing major I don’t want to be homeless please someone employ me #I only know how to find the themes in books #no one told me how to make money #jobsearch #creative writing #english major #creative writing major #college majors #alchol was consumed in the making of this post

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snoftshell-snurtle · 5 months

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one thing i like about the 87 turtles is their connection to city infrastructure. they're constantly dealing with threats to the city power supply and water, crumbling old pipes and buildings, gentrification, extreme weather. it's goofy, but it's grounded in the real everyday effort to sustain this massive city.

#i just think the sewer-dwelling turtle show nowadays should have more to say about climate change. particularly massive storm surges #also respect for homeless people as a Part of nyc society #i love rise. i love the things it has to say about expressing affection and trying again when you fail #i love that they placed a pride flag out of masks in the snow day episode #however. there are themes in the 87 show that i wish were more present now because they're still Very relevant

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emomanswhore · 10 months

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HIIII CAN WE BE MOOTS 😭😭? U R HILARIOUS, I COULDNT STOP LAUGHING FROM SEEING U ON THE DASH INTERACT WITH DIVI AB TOJI AND HIS FUCKING OLD ASS BONES CRACKING, SHIT WAS MAD FUNNY MAN 😭😭😭. they way me and my moots joke about pee paw toji, it’s literally canon atp omllll. i’m karma by the way nice to meet you if you say yes <3

love the theme also 🤗💓

HEYYYYYY (me tryna play it off like i wasn’t lurking ur page like yesterday and manifesting we could be moots 👁️)— YES YES YES,, we are mootie patooties. im rubbing my hands and together and chuckling ominously at u thinking im funny on the dash. ahaha… 🫦🙏🏽.

crazy how i was thinking you’re MAD funny with toji, talking abt how he only got make a wish donated change as a means for spoiling his baby girl 😞💸. so it’s meant to be karma, toji stuck being an assistant manager at mcdonald’s AND when he come home from work to get a lil freak a leek on. bro can’t even smash in peace without his knees buckling and cracking, n being reminded of the sound of mcdonald’s fries grease popping 😞😞

buutttt karma, it’s wonderful to meet you n be mooties ehehee 😋 🫶🏽 im lorelei or peonii, whichever you wanna call me !! now…. 👁️ time to rizz you up, since you’re part of the pretty committee

#❝ ✎ . . .𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦𝟮𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗜—જ📩#ᥫ᭡ ⃗ 𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙄𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙀.ᦡ✭‧₊˚✧𝑲𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑨 !!#ALSO ILYSSMMM 🤍 !!#thank you for complimenting my theme n loving it ehehe :3 it’s my fave one inna lonngg time #i love yours sm but im coming to your inbox to tell u hehe #ALSO— thank god you slander toji too. because me and divi been on his ass for like over 2 years now #and we can finally share our homeless toji thoughts w/out being scared of being doxxed 🐟💧#the fact that you literally call him peepaw when we call him that too LMAOSHEOH

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daydream-ideas · 2 years

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Daydream about a hero finding a villain sleeping on an old mattress in an alleyway, as they are apparently homeless.

#homelessness tw #dark themes #daydream #daydreams #daydreaming #daydreamer #daydreamers #immersive daydreaming #immersive daydreamer #para #paras #paracosm #paracosms #the daydreaming queue #paraportal #daydream ideas

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vimbry · 2 years

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I hope the person I saw suggesting m.arapets still existing for kids to play on that post hasn't been there in a while or something cause um

#linked twitter thread contains racist stereotype and caricature-like pet themes and just generally unpleasant attitudes #around fatphobia homelessness and addiction #kids shouldn't be on There either

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jauntilyplacedcaps · 7 months

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#glee #brittany pierce #santana lopez #noah puckerman #rachel berry #finn hudson #quinn fabray #episode: extraordinary merry christmas #season 3 #3x09 #song: do they know it's christmas #theme: christmas #theme: holidays #place: homeless shelter #place: ohio #group #grey #red #mark salling

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barrenceallence · 1 year

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So keystone city’s equivalent of crime alley in Gotham is called ‘the keys’

#shockingly on theme #or would it be the equivalent of the narrows in the Gotham #this is low key my fave era for him lmao #homeless twink Barry Allen era #barry allen #lb

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gunshou · 2 years

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I loaned a highlighter out to a student today and didn't get it back. I hope it enjoys the MET Gala

(2nd pic posted by @jamesbuchenan)

#WHY ARE YOU WEARING SHAQUILLE O'NEAL'S CLOTHING SIZE?#you stuffed newspapers in your shoes #you could shelter half of NYC's homeless in that coat #it's a good color on you in small doses bb #none of this is on theme #walk away from Valentino stanley #love the sunnies tho #😎#head looks so tiny #sebastian stan #worst dressed #when bad clothes happen to gorgeous men

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sakurarisen · 2 years

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Sunflower, zinnia

Botanical Headcanons!

sunflower : what brings your muse the most joy in life ?

Her family,the beach, and seeing people happy and thriving. Sera is always at peace, content, and happy with her family - It’s with them she feels most at ease, and most relaxed. They know how to ease her anxieties and fears, to call them out and counter them and lay her mind at ease... They are warmth and peace. They’re comfort and rest, and to see them happy makes her happy, because it means she’s doing something right, and they enjoy having her around - And they’re leading their best lives.

It’s the same with seeing others happy - The world can be a cruel place, and to see others smiling, truly, fully, brightly smiling? It puts her soul at ease and a smile on her lips, as well. They deserve it (As does she, she’s learning, but she still will put others above herself), and knowing they’re finding happiness brings it to her, too, just as much as seeing kids, families, anyone really making the best of bad situations and never losing their smile - something that brings her hope, as well.

The beach is another one that puts her soul at ease and almost seems to transform her, taking the stresses, strains, and heartaches of life away with the tides. It’s cleansing and peaceful and Sera highly appreciates the sea and its beauty, and is able to spend hours there, just sitting on the sand, watching the tide and the waves, listening to the shoreline and the birds, the sunlight and water on her skin... Letting her sit there for a day can and will utterly transform her, just like letting her sit under the stars and allowing her to babble about the different legends and myths she’s heard in her travels will.

Prior to finding her family, it was others and the beach, same as above, but also geodes, sparkling, beautiful gifts she found once in a blue moon and were the only thing she allowed herself to collect not vital to her survival, as well as the stars.

zinnia : how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ? has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

Gonna put this one under a readmore for length, TW for mentions of: Death and abuse/child abuse

Sera’s definitely no stranger to loss. Growing up, she was sheltered by the middle kids of the family, Ami and Takeru - With their parents refusing to be parents, they took to trying to raise Sera in their stead to the point she considers her sister and brother to be far better parental figures than their mother and father ever were. Even under the abuse they faced, they never showed her anything but kindness, protection, and a smile, and on their death beds, expressed concern more for her than themselves. Losing them absolutely shattered Sera, who was only 9 when it happened, and resulted in her withdrawing and trying to rebel. What happened to Ami and Takeru sparked a desire in her to survive, and that’s been a trend that’s continued throughout her life.

Sera wants to honor her lost siblings’ lives in any way she can, and whether or not she’s realized it, they and that desire have been a major factor in her dream. Their kindness is something she’s adopted and there’s situations where she can be much like Ami, trying to diffuse and shield through that kindness, and channels both of her siblings in trying to internalize things while showing a smile to the world. They’re also the reason she sees a lot of things through a childish ‘fairy tale lens’ and has learned to use the stories as a means of understanding situations when nothing else works to help make sense of it - Ami would read her fairy tales and used the book to help try to teach her how to read until she and Takeru fell ill, and they’ve always stuck with her as much as their smiles have.

It’s similar to ‘losing’ @honorisen‘s Zack during the Nibelheim incident; though she knows he’s not gone due to the bond they share, it’s crushing to see the announcement of him being KIA. While she knows he isn’t gone, she has no proof and saying as much sounds ridiculous, and its difficult to not let the pain and heartache of ‘but what if he really is’ break through and settle in. Once more, without realizing it, he’s shaped how she follows her dream and her dream in general; she’s quicker to step n and help people. More impulsive, and by far more blunt in how she does it, though that she’s able to catch herself on and softens within a few months of it beginning (especially on realizing she’s pregnant with Shayan, something else that doesn’t help an unstable mental state). She takes on his name and tries to honor him by continuing his dream and life, and later, teaching their son all about him. Like with Ami and Takeru, his lessons stick with her... But it takes a long time before she’s able to function again.

The difference is that later - losing Zack and the fact it comes with a mention of @warofthebeasts‘ Sephiroth also being supposedly KIA, furthering the pain and heartache with losing a friend who had been a welcome and wonderful companion on top of her fiance - is crushing enough to drive her to nearly lose herself. Though Sera, as an adult/older teen, is able to shape her dream and around honoring them and showing the world who they were as well and how amazing they were, losing her found family is crushing enough to nearly end her, and it’s only Shayan that keeps her going. Without hm, she may have fallen apart into nothingness - A thought she occasionally has that terrifies her.

Add in she’s lost everyone she knows in Midgar when she has to run and knows she can’t come back, with Shinra on her tail, and platefall a few years later destroying Sector 7...

In OG, ultimately Sera never stops. She wants answers. She wants to know how to stop Shinra, and she takes her nights after Shayan’s in bed searching - For Zack, for answers, for a means to stop Shinra... She needs to know and nothing comes of it, resulting in her death in Edge during Deepgrounds’ raid several years later.

In Remake, Sera may have developed issues with paranoia on regaining Zack, but if you look close, you can see where the losses she’s experienced - still including Zack - have shaped her and her dream, and where new lines are made. She’s learned, the hard way, the world is cruel and some people don’t and will never care... But it’s only made her want to see it change for the next generation all the more.

And by Shiva, she will do it.

#Questioning A Flower [Asks]#Annjiru #Colors Of Sakura [Headcanons]#TW: Trauma #TW: Abuse #TW: Death mention #If I missed a TW tag and anyone needs it let me know! More than happy to add that in for you!#Thank you so much for this- <3 #Sera having issues with paranoia is an HC I need to write up at some point - All thank yous to Kasa for helping me see oh snap #That's actually a thing Sera struggles with and I can't believe I didn't make the connection #Especially with also having Cissnei for a muse who also struggles with paranoia?#It took Zack pointing it out in a thread and talking it over with Kasa and another friend of ours to really pick up on it #But yeah - If you look closely you'll see where the losses Sera's experienced have shaped her dream and how she moves forward through life?#Even taking in Yuga is partly because of that? She can't just leave him alone but her heart also goes out to this boy #who's now homeless and lost everything much like she did #And it's not fair - For him or anyone else #Lowkey she tries to help them live on through her and that's a common theme with Sera #Carrying their dreams alongside her own and trying to keep their memory alive in any way she can #While honoring #and passing down their memory as well #Sera's been through a LOT and it shapes her so much and I love that?#But I will note she can't lose her found family - It'll destroy her #Which is where that paranoia comes in #Part of why she has to deal with that borderline hatred of fighting and learn to do so better - For them #And I love my girl so much TWT #In this essay I will-#I can seriously talk like this for hours-

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