Yo, sorry this took a while; juggling becoming a first-time homeowner and all the ish that comes with it on top of adulting in general. Don't grow up folks; it ain't fun lol
I own nothing but my OCs. Suggest reading the predecessor Suffer In the Pain for more context if you haven't already. Otherwise, let us commence.
If you were suddenly gifted a magical creature that could grant any wish your heart desired, would you wish for a happier life? Even if it meant that once you were happy and you no longer needed magic, this magical creature would go away forever?
Hundreds of millennia ago lived five mystical beings, born with unexplained mystical powers. They had eyes vibrant in unnatural colors of turquoise, pink, purple, blue, and yellow. They could shapeshift their tools and their bodies, heal themselves when injured, levitate in the air at will, and aged much slower than their Homo Sapien counterparts.
Shelter from ferocious animals, natural disasters, or other enemies wasn't always stable, and because of this, tribes never stayed in one place long enough to call home. The main source of food came from hunting which was often dangerous, and with zero defense against bacteria, falling ill was an automatic death sentence…if you weren't magic, that is.
At the time, regular children could not escape these hardships; they accepted this as part of life, but that didn't mean they were happy about it. Feeling sorry for them, the supernatural race would approach these children and offer to make their lives easier by giving them whatever they desired. Children did not fear these powerful beings due to their friendly nature and somewhat shorter stature, though the same could not be said when the adults discovered who their children were spending so much time with. Without the proper language to make sense of them, these supernatural beings were deemed evil spirits impending on their kin to steal their souls, and when yellow eyes stood out among the darkness of night lurking around caves, yellow eyes lost their spark when ambushed on sight with a spear to the chest.
When the remaining four discovered this murder, they fled to an isolated land within the mountains, somewhere no other humans could reach them. Though high above, however, they feared there was still a chance to be hunted. Using the full extent of their innate powers, they levitated themselves and the mountains high into the air, reaching as high as the exosphere without burning alive and little difficulties breathing (another attribute to their abilities,) and with the help of their magic, they carved these mountains into a world above the clouds amid the stars.
Relieved to escape the adults that wanted their heads on stakes, the soft side to them regretted leaving the children to suffer. To maintain some connection to Earth, they crafted a rainbow road bridge from one of the mountains, painted in yellow, blue, pink, purple, and turquoise representing the original five members of their tribe. On occasion, one or two of them would venture down the bridge to earth, masking their identities by transforming into their surroundings. Their language had developed faster than the language of Earth's homo sapiens, but with their magic, they could communicate with the children that only they could see their true form and that they must not reveal their existence to their parents or other adults.
Otherwise, their memories would be erased, and they would never be seen again.
As the oldest living Fae in all the magical realm, the Fairy Council make up the four founding members of the world known today as Fairy World. As Fairy World populated overtime, the Fairy Council had a world to oversee and citizens to care for. With humanity also populating in rapid advancement, that meant more miserable children. No longer able to travel to Earth as often as desired, the Fairy Council gathered a group of fairies known as the first official Fairy Godparents, sending them with a laundry list of rules to govern their magic to prevent misuse and to ensure their safety while on Earth. As this career industrialized, fairies would be sent to train at a magical institution called Fairy Academy, and after graduation, they would be led by relatives of the Von Strangles, the direct bloodline of the blue Fairy Council member.
Humanity no longer faces the challenges of prehistoric times, yet as we all know, life can still bring physical, mental, and emotional pain that can hurt worse than any bullet to the heart. Fairy Godparents are assigned to miserable children in need, granting them the power to wish away the pain life can bring.
For the children living in Dimmsdale, California, it'll take more than wands and wings and floaty crowny things to be truly happy…
Grey clouds overcast the city of Dimmsdale, the illusion of morning darkened by the threat of an autumn shower. Running a little behind on his route, the newspaper boy cycled down the suburban neighborhood and tossed the newspapers aimed for front porches of houses as he passed, including the white residence where one bucktooth boy lived.
Within the blue walls of the boy's room were two goldfish floating in their fishbowl on the nightstand next to the single bed. Pink and green eyes observed the child sleeping soundly, a contrast to the taxing night of bad dreams that'd kept the three of them up half the night.
The married couple inhaled deep breaths, physically and mentally preparing themselves for another full day. "Ready, Wanda?" the green-eyed fish asked through a yawn that he covered with his fin, turning to his wife.
"Ready, Cosmo." Wanda smiled weakly to her husband, her smile contradicting the bags under her eyes. Exhausted was an understatement, but they still had a job to do.
Counting down aloud in unison from three, the goldfish waved their wands and transformed into their natural Fairy Godparent form, one green with a white shirt and black pants, and his companion pink with a yellow blouse and black jeans. Hovering next to the bed where their godchild's gentle snores remained undisturbed, after a confirming nod to each other, the fairies called out in joyous harmony "Wakey, wakey, Timmy!"
Blue eyes blinked reluctantly as Timmy greeted his fairies with a low groan, rolling sluggishly to bury his face into his pillow. Expecting this, Wanda poofed his pillow and blanket out of the way, making Timmy curl in a ball face down into his mattress as she announced "It's time for school, sport!"
Coming from the mattress came a muffled "…do I have to?"
"Aww, cheer up, champ!" Cosmo waved his wand to raise Timmy out of bed as Timmy rubbed his eyes with both fists. "Today'll be a great day!"
Timmy sighed wearily "…yeah right."
Cosmo magically lowered Timmy to the ground onto his feet. Wanda poofed his pink shirt and blue jeans while Cosmo poofed fresh underwear and sneakers, brushing his teeth and applying deodorant in between. With a tired yawn, Timmy grabbed his signature pink hat dangling from the wooden headboard of his bed, combing his wild shag with lazy fingers before setting the hat atop his head. Cosmo and Wanda became his wristbands as Timmy walked to where his wilted backpack against in front of the bedframe, slinging a strap over his slouched shoulder, and he dragged his sneakers across the wooden floor on his way out from the refuge of his room into the bane of the outside world.
Timmy traveled downstairs before briefly stalling on the bottom step, staring at the same spot on the ground where his twin sister took her last breath. He tore his eyes away before the vivid memory had a chance to flash in his mind, and when he approached the archway leading into the kitchen, empty chairs around an unoccupied table and a used coffee pot welcomed him.
With another sigh, Timmy walked through the kitchen to the yellow note stuck to the refrigerator door which read 'Working overtime, then going out for date night tonight. Vicky's coming to make sure you clean the bathrooms if you want more lunch money. Mom.'
"Great…" Timmy groaned, snatching the note off the fridge to crumple in his palm.
"Does that mean Vicky's babysitting again?" Cosmo asked as Timmy tossed the wrinkled note towards the nearby trashcan, only for the wad to bounce off the trashcan's rim onto the tiled floor.
"Of course, she is…" Timmy grumbled bitterly. Just as suspected, this day was already ruined.
Thinking they wouldn't be seen, Cosmo and Wanda poofed into regular form as Timmy opened the fridge to molded cheese, chunky bits floating in an old carton of milk, and a bowl of cloudy soup that no longer looked edible. Cosmo gagged reflexively as Wanda grimaced, more disgusted by how two parents thought this was acceptable. "…why don't we make you breakfast." she offered.
"Before that…" Timmy shut the door refrigerator door, frowning from the rotten stench from the fridge. "I wish the fridge was clean."
Cosmo and Wanda flashed their wands, and the rotten fumes dispelled in an instant. When a rumble reminded him of how hungry he was, Timmy then faced his fairies, voicing what his stomach hankered for. "I wish I had bacon and eggs."
Two wands sparkled creating a plate on the table full of scrambled eggs and crispy bacon, and after a simple "Thanks," Timmy slumped his backpack next to his chair and took a seat, wasting little time digging in with his fork.
As Timmy devoured his breakfast, Cosmo turned to his wife hovering next to him, taking the small moment to interlace his hands with hers. Wanda faced the gentle smile she always loved, offering her own soft grin, and when he snuck a tiny peck to her cheek, her giggle distracted Timmy from his feast when he glanced up at the couple, watching just as their hands parted.
Swallowing his bite and returning to his plate, Timmy thought back to within his first full days of having Fairy Godparents when Cosmo and Wanda had told him how long they've been married. It confused him seeing as how they didn't look a day over thirty-five, but as Cosmo had explained (in his Cosmo way,) fairies can live a lonnnnnnng, long time, and their magic keeps them lookin' younnnnnng and beautiful.
Noticing the time on the microwave, Wanda floated down to Timmy's level, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Almost done, sport? Don't wanna miss the bus."
Timmy raised a puzzled brow to his godmother, and Wanda took her hand away with a modest apology. The Turners had not a nurturing nor affectionate bone in their bodies, so to Wanda, ten years of wounds are difficult to mend in a matter of weeks.
Scooting from the table, Timmy took his plate and fork over to the sink, and his dishes clinked against the coffee mugs and other dirty plates after an aloof toss. "You're gonna clean that too, right?" Cosmo pointed out, and Timmy looked up apathetically.
"…I'll do it later."
"Or you can do it now so Vicky won't make you do it later." Wanda politely suggested, gesturing to her wand.
"Fine." Timmy huffed. "I wish the dishes were clean…"
The fairies swooshed their wands with bright smiles, and the dishes caked in crumbs and coffee residue instantaneously sparkled squeaky clean.
Dragging his feet, Timmy retrieved his backpack and slung a strap over his shoulder as Cosmo and Wanda poof into his wristbands again. Going towards the front door, he paused when he opened the door to find a newspaper on the welcome mat. Holding the door open, he picked up the newspaper and carelessly tossed it towards the couch where it landed on the cushion, and after locking the door from the inside, he began his journey to the bus stop, shutting the door from behind.
. . . . . .
Five houses down from the Turner residence in another suburban home, raven ponytails bowed as she pressed her forehead to clasped hands. Perched on her knees by the bedside, she silently thanked Jehovah for blessing her and her family with another day.
"Hey, Tootie, I don't mean to interrupt, but…" the teal tote bag beside the closet spoke up, teal eyes having watched the little girl from the sidelines. "…can I ask a question?"
Finishing her silent prayer, Tootie raised her chin and squinted purple eyes up towards the fuzzy outline of her bedroom window.
"…does praying help?"
Such a simple question made purple eyes lower briefly, hoisting herself to her feet. "…I answered that already."
"I know." the bag coolly responded. "Just seems like you pray more out of obligation than need sometimes."
Tootie patted the surface of her nightstand for her purple specs, feeling around until the top rims pressed her palm. Lifting them to fit across her eyes, the pink blur became well-defined pink walls and wooden flooring in a couple blinks. Turning to the clear outline of the tote bag on the floor with narrowed eyes. "Rose, prayer isn't just a way to ask for help." Tootie made her way to her closet, giving the same explanation she'd already given before. "It helps us draw closer to God."
"…why?" Rose asked. "Draw closer to God, I mean."
"Draw close to God, and He will draw close to you." Tootie recited James 4:8 as if taken straight from the bible, gathering her black vest and gray plaid skirt.
"Do you feel close to him?"
Setting her vest and skirt on her bed, Tootie tilted her head walking to her drawer for a white t-shirt, honestly unsure of how to answer. Never question Jehovah God…her father's stern voice echoed in her mind. Always have faith in Him. The mostly bad days and no good days made a tiny part of her wonder if He ever heard her prayers. Was she as close to Him as she'd hoped, or was the presence of magic pushing Him away?
With no more desire to continue the conversation, Tootie grabbed her t-shirt, her lips tight as she passed her godmother. Rose waved her wand and returned to her true form in a teal cloud, sporting her boysenberry blouse and dark-denim jeans, and as her godchild stepped back into her closet for an ounce of privacy readying for school, Rose had caught a glimpse of the darkened bruise exposed from her sleeveless nightgown.
In yesterday's Sunday service, the congregation elders kept droning on about Armageddon drawing nearer. Instead of writing notes about the sermon like she'd been instructed to, Tootie's pen doodled caged ravens in her notebook. Not pleased in the slightest, her father had sharply pinched her arm, startling her in a squeak. Furrowing his brow in a low yet grim tone, he'd threatened to whoop her with a switch if she ever disgraced God again.
Rose didn't like Jim from the jump, and this solidified her dislike for the self-proclaimed 'apostle of Jehovah.' Could you really fault a nine-year-old obliged to sit still for two-plus hours listening to the same man talk non-stop about adult topics using adult language that a child's short attention span can't always comprehend?
When they'd returned home and Rose had offered to mend the bruise, Tootie refused all to prevent her parents' suspicions of practicing magic. Tootie scarcely made wishes which, in Godparent standards, was not a good thing.
This was proven one night when Tootie was praying in her room before bed, and Rose had begun to sweat and uncontrollably shake out of nowhere. The little girl was horrified when her godmother's torso ballooned, fearing Satan had possessed Rose and was about to possess her too. Rose had to explain through unbearable pain the concept of magic buildup and how to stop it, and Tootie had a tearful (and downright torturing) inner battle with herself, biting her lip enough to pierce skin.
On the brink of bursting into fairy dust, Rose was able to grant Tootie's wish that her magic buildup went away, and grateful for her life, Rose had floated down to her godchild as a 'thank you.' But before she'd gotten that chance, Tootie started crying that Jehovah was gonna punish her, sobbing as she ran away from her fairy godmother. Rose had to set a magic barrier around the bedroom door to stop Tootie from running out. That only made Tootie scream and cry more, isolating herself to the back corner of the room, and Rose was surprised when her parents never came to investigate. Tootie had covered her head wailing into her knees, swatting Rose away whenever she'd tried to console her. The only thing Rose could really do was just…wait for it pass.
Luckily, when Tootie was calm enough to have a coherent conversation, Rose was able to sit down with Tootie and come to a compromise that Tootie would at least make one wish a day so that magic buildup couldn't happen again. Aside from small wishes for colored pens or to fix her glasses when Francis had knocked them off her face and stomped on them, granting wishes was still rare.
Making wishes did not come naturally for a child so constricted in a force-fed religion, yet with it getting closer to 24 hours since Tootie's last wish, Rose worried that magic buildup was inevitable. Rose wanted to give Tootie grace, but even grace has a time limit.
. . . . . .
The vintage wall-length mirror varnished in real gold reflected a pair of icy mint staring into the cold soul within, shivering fingers lowered the collar of his silk pajamas. Furrowing his brow when the eleven-year-old exposed the purple blemish just above his left collar bone, the blemish imprinted by a grown man's lips.
"We love each other…right?" he remembered his nanny cooing in his ear. "This is just how people show how much they love each other."
…was that true? If not, could Remy have done something to stop it? Should he have stopped it?
Tucking his secret in its vault, he let go of his collar to cover up the blemish. Having freshened up with brushed teeth and clean underwear, he tore himself away from his own confliction. White marble chilled beneath his steps towards the bathroom door, and he inhaled a breath as he twisted the door handle.
Opening the door, muscles sculpted under a white shirt and tight black jeans floated near his bed, blue-violets studying the loose hair in his magic mirror before he brushed it back in place. Those blue-violets acknowledged him with a welcoming grin, a grin that he simply couldn't bring himself to return.
"Are you sure you do not want me to dress you, Remy?" his Spanish accent offered, gesturing to his glowing wand. "It would be much quicker."
"I'm sure, Juandissimo…" Remy looked away, rubbing the left side of his neck. "Fenwick will be here any second."
Juandissimo's grin faded as his magic mirror disappeared, and Remy frowned when he caught the glimpse of frustration his fairy godfather's mellow eyes. Part of him didn't want to disappoint him, but part of him feared for his nanny's life if Juandissimo was aware of what happened while the entire mansion slept every night.
Seconds later as predicted, two knocks alerted the occupants for Juandissimo to transform into his ferret disguise, and a middle-aged nanny let himself in, a pep in his step in his approach. Grinning ear-to-ear that made the ferret scrunch his nose like 'what chu smilin' for.' "How are you feeling this morning, Remy?"
"Fine." Remy's muscles tightened from Fenwick's palm on his left shoulder, admiration in his smirk that Juandissimo noticed made his godchild visibly uncomfortable.
"Yeah?" Fenwick continued to smile as he began caressing Remy shoulder. Remy turned troubled eyes away, clenching his flinch. "Well, I feel wonderful." Calloused fingers slid intentionally, reaching down to the young boy's collar bone. "Especially when we're together..."
A warning growl stopped invasive fingers from traveling further, and Remy saw glaring brown eyes directed at the ferret's disapproving lour, sensing Fenwick's irritation. Juandissimo backed down a bit once Fenwick took his hand away, though his glower remained. A small roll of his eyes, Fenwick turned to gather Remy's white blazer and black tuxedo pants from the walk-in closet.
Fenwick disliked Juandissimo as much as Juandissimo wanted to wring Fenwick's neck. Of course, to Fenwick, Juandissimo was just some annoying wild animal that should be thrown back in the wild. To Juandissimo, Fenwick was nothing more than a…um…a 'joder enferma.' Remy didn't need translation to recognize an insult when he heard one.
Because Juandissimo intentionally expressed his hatred whenever Fenwick was around, Fenwick had begun to move more strategically. He wasn't as public with his affection, though his affection had grown more…'explorative.' In the presence of Juandissimo or other people, the most the nanny would do was touch Remy's shoulder or pat the top of his head. In the dead of night, he would sneak into Remy's room, tip toe over to the bed, crawl across the duvet ever so gently at a slow pace, lay next to him as delicately as possible, and slip his fingers beneath the sheets. Remy would open his eyes to Fenwick kissing his neck and the inside of his pants warm from roaming hands.
Fenwick would have his way with him and…Remy wouldn't stop him. Not to prevent his godfather from waking up, catching the act and causing this dramatic scene. The way his body would respond felt eating your first meal after days of starving, a contradiction to whether it was wrong or not to crave something like this. Something he just couldn't understand.
Even if he wasn't always certain if he wanted it, Fenwick always wanted it, and Remy never wanted the only person who'd ever loved him to be upset with him.
. . . . . .
"Y'know, Chloe, you can always just wish for your room to be clean." the indigo booby bird reminded from her cage as her godchild ironed the creaseless bedsheets with her hands after fluffing the feathered pillows. Purple floors and pink walls barren of any toys or dolls, spotless aside from 1st and 2nd place ribbons from various past competitions tact to the wall. "Even though there's not much to clean…"
"I appreciate the suggestion, Susie." Chloe was polite in her response, walking to her study desk to push a loose textbook back into the organized stack. "But you know how my parents are; they'd have a fit if anything was out of place."
"That only proves my point…" Susie reiterated flatly. "Save yourself the trouble."
Without knocking, Chloe's mother permitted herself entry into the ten-year-old's room, fully geared in her wildlife vet uniform. Her critical gaze frowned to her wristwatch, tapping her boot impatiently. "You need to be at school before 7:50 and I need to be at the zoo before eight; it's already 7:15." Connie grouched as Chloe quietly footed her feet with purple sandals before retrieving her backpack next to her study desk. "Hurry up before you make me late!"
Biting her tongue to keep from giving an apology she knew her mother cared little for, Chloe approached her mother's frown with a forced smile. "I was just finishing organizing my room-"
"Which is still a mess!" Connie criticized the one pencil not in its pencil holder and the one pillow that would be considered off-center if you were standing, I dunno, two inches from the bed. "I mean, for heaven's sake, you had one job!"
The utter dissatisfaction in her mother's frown wiped the fake smile from Chloe's disheartened features, unable to help the "Sorry…" that murmured after, crumpling the skirt of her yellow dress as the booby bird shook her head, watching the scene play out from her cage. This was met with an agitated sigh from Connie, stepping away from Chloe's doorframe. Her prompt and perfect work attendance will not be ruined by incompetence. "Just c'mon…"
Swallowing the strain building in her throat, Chloe strapped her tense shoulders with her backpack as Susie transformed from a booby bird into a butterfly necklace. The ten-year-old looked down to the center of her chest where Susie met her gaze, offering the caring grin that Chloe weakly returned as she shut the door to her room, following her mother's trail down the steps and out of the house to the red Volvo parked outside the garage. Entering the backseat as Connie slammed the driver's side door, Chloe directed self-deprecating eyes to the suburban scenery through her window before Connie started the engine and drove from the driveway out onto the residential road.
"Your father's working overtime, so dinner will need to be ready for him when he comes home." Connie reminded firmly.
"Yes ma'am…" Chloe droned dully, withered-blue orbs staring at the houses and shrubbery passing by.
Briefly stalling at the stop sign, Connie divided her attention between the road and her daughter's grimace visible in the review mirror. "And fix your face! You know no one likes a Debby Downer."
"How 'bout you fix yo attitude, Negative Nancy..." Susie shot under her breath as Chloe started picking at her nails. Squeezing her hands into fists to keep from tearing half her nail off its bed, Chloe forced her chin up with a tight lip, flinching troubled features into a neutral expression as the car signaled to merge onto oncoming traffic.
Critical judgement from her parents felt amplified over the week since her Brain-A-Thon victory, a victory that her parents solely regarded as a fluke of coincidence. As a result, there was this consistent tightness in her chest, and nagging thoughts ran marathons from the mental echoes of her parents' voices. "We critique your mistakes because we love you." she'd often been told by her mother in particular. "We want you to succeed, and no one else will ever care as much as we do about your success in life."
She was thankful to have a fairy godmother who has been a source of solace in her times of panic, often bringing her down from its vicious attacks. Though Susie had explained it was part of being a Fairy Godparent, Chloe still felt like a huge burden. There was one time Susie had to calm Chloe down from yet another nervous breakdown, all because Clark had grilled Chloe for figuring out shortcuts to solving equations for her long-division homework. "You shouldn't internalize what they say so much, Chlo-bird." Susie had commented afterwards. "You could discover the cure for cancer, and they'd still find somethin' to harp on you about. Trust me, they're just not worth it..."
Whether her parents genuinely have her best interest at heart or her fairy inadvertently setting her up for failure in telling her not to listen to the two people who only wanted the best for her, it didn't matter how much the lines blurred to outsiders looking in. She was a Carmichael, and Carmichaels have their stuff together.
They suck it up in spite of the pain.
AN: My little 'origin' story on fairies at the beginning was derived from Irish folklore. I figured it'd be a nice little connection as to why Fairy Godparents are assigned to the dominant species on Earth.