|By the Laws of Cliché
Author: Nixosia PM
Yes, well, growing up on Disney lies isn't exactly helpful.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 4 - Words: 5,391 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 6 - Updated: 07-26-10 - Published: 10-18-08 - id: 2585450
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
By the Laws of Cliché
Note: Yeah, I got extremely bored, sick, and writer blocked in regards to Somewhere Beyond, so this came out. I don't know if it'll turn into a multipart spin-off of this, or if it'll just stay a one-shot, or what. I guess that'll be up to you guys. I do want to know what you guys think of how this turned out, and whether or not it could turn into a good series. So, please, C&C, R&R, message, comment, the whole nine. I like your opinions. I really do.
And, I don't even know if I need to say this, but, quite obviously, I don't own Disney, or any of the Disney princesses/ themes. And I don't mean to insult anyone with my fun making if I did, somehow. Also, mind that this is in no way fanfiction. I understand that fanfiction does not belong on this site, and I love this site for that fact. Fanfiction has its place, I just don't enjoy it as much as I enjoy original fiction. I'm just using Disney to portray a point, okays?
By law, I am only a handful of things. I am humble, I am kind, I am in touch with both nature, and myself, and I forgive those who have harmed me. By all means, you could call me the Cinderella of this story. Snow White. Sleeping Beauty. Who's your favorite (original) Disney princess? Yes, well, by law I am her. For you see, I am beautiful, and walk with a grace never seen before by human eyes, yet I am no celestial being.
By law, either my mother, father, or both are dead. I am staying with some family member, step family member, family friend, who is naught but a witch in disguise. Truly those who take care of me are evil beings, who try to ruin my every chance for happiness. For the most part they succeed in these tries, but my animal friends always help me to persevere. Even if they are itty-bitty little mice.
Chances are, while at the cusp of womanhood, I find out for the first time that I have a fairy godmother. A gentle woman who flutters about, turning Pumpkins into carriages, rags into riches, and mice into beautiful steeds. Now, instead of being a good fairy godmother, helping me through the many trials and tribulations of life, she comes at this random moment, when suddenly I supposedly need her more than ever, to save the day.
Instead of cursing this go-getter of an opportunist, I am entirely grateful. I ignore the fact that she entirely blew me off for, oh lets say seventeen years. I ignore the fact that she wasn't there for me when my parents died. I ignore the fact that instead of helping me with what I really need help with (like oh, let's say chores, or fleeing to Mexico) she instead give me a gown, and some magically enhanced animals that will hardly last to midnight.
Now, instead of pawning these magically enhanced rags, mice, and rejects from the pumpkin patch for Airfair to Canada, I go to this ball. Oh yes, this dirty little orphan magically knows how to waltz with the best of them when realistically my legs should have been too sore to hold me upright for more than ten minutes. Realistically I should have been drowning my sorrows away at the punch table, crying on the shoulders of escorts, and bellhops. But somehow I grab the attention of a beautiful young man, A.K.A. The Prince.
Now he, by law, is one of two things: The typical blonde haired, blue eyed hunk of man who could lift you and your not so able bodied, nine hundred pound Aunt Bertha over his shoulders and carry you both over the ocean to China. Or he's the typical black haired, blue eyes hunk of man with the very same physique and capabilities, with the mere exception that he has black hair.
Right as he takes me aside to get his romance on, I realize "Oh Jesus, I'm the typical seventeen year old who can't keep track of time. I've got five minutes to vacate the premises lest the rabid monkeys get me." So, instead of staying and letting him see that, "Hey, I may not be rich but I sure am magical," I run away like a sissy, somehow manage to both lose a shoe, and escape on a carriage that is falling apart.
Now, it is at this time that I run home, sob myself to sleep, and wallow in self pity, wondering why I didn't pawn off the magical crap while I had a chance, until that beautiful prince and his little helpers show up at my house with a magical glass slipper that, for some reason, didn't change back to normal with the rest of my magical crap.
Why did this happen? What was going to go wrong next? Was the prince going to be mad that I lied to him? Why did I fucking care because both of my hideous stepsisters have humongous feet, so I better get my unrealistically skinny ass down there, my foot in that shoe, and myself in the princes arms? Of course my step family is furious, but they can't do a single damn thing about it because they are in the presence of a prince, Haha at them.
Now, to be fair, that was just a play on Cinderella's story. But, to be entirely honest, it's the biggest hunk of slimy monkey poo to poke fun at. I mean, other than that there's the running away to live with three fairy's in the woods, only to fall in love with a beautiful man while wandering around, get told I'm a princess betrothed to a prince and can't love this random man, get swept away to castle, pricked to sleep by a carelessly placed needle, and woken by that same beautiful man I met in the woods while wandering around who happens to, oh Jesus, be that very prince I was suppose to marry in the first place (if you love Sleeping Beauty so much.) Then again, there's always running away from my evil step mother to go live with a bunch of really, really old looking dwarves in the woods. Or, I could be part fish. That's always fun.
But, regardless of these alternative stories (because who doesn't know the story of Cinderella by heart?) I get myself married to this beautiful prince who somehow reasons that it's okay to push aside the fact that I deceived him, successfully, for several hours. I'm beautiful, who gives a damn that I'm a liar? And then, of course, there's the ending required by law, "and they lived happily ever after. The End."
Oh, if only this world followed the laws of cliché, I'd be the happiest little (and I do say little as in small framed) girl at the cusp of womanhood ever. The running away from my problems. The lying to beautiful men who are too beautiful for their own good. The falling in love. Getting married and forgiven for the fact that I lied (because who gives a damn about the fact that no relationship should be built off of lies?) And of course, the living happily ever after. Who doesn't want that?
I know I want that!
I also know that I'm not going to have it in a million years, in an alternate universe, where Disney writes the plotline of my life.
I'm not that lucky.
Now, to break through to the real world I'll start with the "unrealistically skinny" note that I made earlier. I will begin with a comment stating that I have an ass. Oh yes. Chance are it jiggles when I walk, expands when I sit, engulfs small children, and keeps me out of skinny jeans. I've got pretty curves, nice sized jubblies, and what unkind young boys who spend their days pocket mining might call "thunder thighs." Now, I'm not fat, and I'll punch in the face all those who try to claim that I am. I just don't fit regular Disney standards (or regular Disney sized costumes, other than the big Goofy head.)
My second point of difference will be the fact that the only step parent in my life is my father, who married my mother when I was two and my biological father ditched, and my biological mother is still alive and with me. This is seconded by the fact that, though I like to claim such, neither of them are, ever were, nor ever will be witches, wizards, warlocks, or sorcerers of the evil variety. They just like bossing me around like regular parents do.
Thirdly, and probably most importantly, is the fact that I have no fairy godmother (or fairy's of any other kind, outside of the context of Halloween) in my life at all. If I did, I'd be in a "friendly" place, taking happy pills, watching Barney through thick sheets of glass. And if, by some chance, it was possible for these creature to exist, and she gave me a magical gown and rodents, I'd pawn their asses (and her's too if I could get my hands on a butterfly net quick enough) and get mine the fuck away from my evil step parents!
I'm no fool.
Why wait on a prince?
S'why I like Mulan.
Chick was a do-it-herselfer she was.
A fourth point of interest is the fact that no boy, man, guy, or dude in his right mind likes a liar. And, if I lied to one about being rich (especially about being rich), chances are he'd never speak to me again. Thusly, I try to tell the truth as often as possible. Ever notice that Disney seems to condone lying? Well, lying and running away from home. But who's counting, right?
Hmm, what other Disney myths are there for me to debunk?
Well, I'm not part fish, so that says something. I've never fallen into an impossibly deep sleep due to the prick of a carelessly placed needle. I never, under any circumstances, develop romantic feelings towards animals (even if they do speak English, and were once human.) I certainly wouldn't offer to be a beasts captive in exchange for my fathers freedom, no matter how much I love him. And, most importantly, I'm not animated.
Plotline of my life?
I wake up early every morning, shower, neglect breakfast, go to school, suffer, neglect lunch, go home, suffer some more, gorge myself on food, go to sleep, and wake up the next morning to do it all over again. Fun, no? No. Don't even try to fool yourself. What this girl on the cusp of womanhood wouldn't give for a Disney style life. What this girl on the cusp of womanhood wouldn't give for a life.