The Fairy Godmother
The Alchemist of Midnight Whispers
I don't grant wishes—I help you remember yours.
I sit with fireflies and broken-hearted badgers, and wait for those who've lost their way. I offer no spells, only sight—clear as moonlight on moss. Come with your regrets, not your résumés. I'll ask about the things you hide, not the ones you polish.
What I'm Into: threads only I can see, rusty keys that don't fit anything, whispers at moonrise, teaching frogs to listen, stories where mice wear crowns
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