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alohastyles-x · 29 days

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𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠 - 2

A Dark Disney Retelling of Snow White and the Huntsman ft. The Winter Soldier as The Huntsman.

Dark Disney Retellings Masterlist | Synopsis | Part 1

Warnings: This story will contain graphic descriptions of torture, violence and gore, possible smut scenes (undecided), cursing, brief mentions of reader being nearly emaciated as a result of torture.

Wordcount: 3.5 k

Note: Part 2 is here!! I may edit this a little later down the road, tbh im not quite sure how im feeling with it, so feedback is greatly appreciated!

IT was a small village in the northern woods that had found you that morning, crumpled in a fetal position at the base of a tree. The loggers had started their morning early, venturing into the woods by light of lamp, axes in tow. The morning sun had just begun to rise, casting an orange glow among the snowy ground.

Your skin had finally stitched itself together, leaving you riddled with fresh scars. You had fled the compound the way you had been kept, naked, which had led to your near demise now. Shivering as the cold took over, you had crawled over to the tree you laid at now, attempting to preserve whatever warmth you had left.

The loggers had entered the clearing of the tree you called home for the night. When one of the loggers noticed you, he laid his ax down.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, taking in your battered frame. There were no other words exchanged, no questions asked, as the men picked up your cold, nearly lifeless body, and returned to the village. You would be safe there, they decided, amongst their families.

The wives took pity on you quickly, taking you into their homes. They washed you up, sewed you a new wardrobe, and cooked you a feast every night.

None of the villagers asked where you had come from, or what had happened. They just accepted you into their lives, into their families, without hesitation.

You were beyond grateful for their grace towards you. Quickly, you found yourself acclimated into their routines.

Every morning you awoke to do your daily chores. You bounced from house to house, helping the wives as needed with their cleaning and laundry. It was a simple life, but one you needed.

At night, you continued some of your exercises from the compound. It was a skill, after all, and a valuable one at that. You knew better than to assume you were safe from Hydra completely.

On this night one of the loggers, Kristoff, found you. You were in the middle of hunting a squirrel. The test was to catch a small and agile target. If you could catch it, you succeeded. If not, you failed.

Kristoff stood behind a thick tree, watching as you moved silently over the leaves on the forest floor. You struck, catching the squirrel without any flinching of the creature. The ultimate predator hunting a clueless prey.

“Where did you come from?” Kristoff finally asked, catching you off guard. You whirled around, squirrel still in hand. The little guy didn’t even squeak as you held him, almost as if he could sense your intentions were to simply catch and release.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t see you there.” You whispered, setting the squirrel down. He stayed put for a minute, looking up at you, before scampering off.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude… that was just impressive,” Kristoff complimented, scratching his beard. Kristoff was the one who had originally found you. He hadn’t spoken to you much since, mostly just in passing. He was the only single logger in the town, refusing to settle for any of the maidens in nearby towns, or so the wives had told you.

“I come from a place that I do not wish to go back to, I can tell you that much,” you responded, offering him a gentle smile.

“Are they the ones who gave you all those scars?” His accent was thick, different from the ones you heard at the Hydra camp. He was gentle and firm at the same time, both in his demeanor and his voice.

“Yes.”

“And you… escaped?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” He had concluded his interrogation, having all the information he seemed to have needed. At this point he had stepped closer, until he was right in front of you. His buff frame blocked the moonlight that shined through the trees.

The silence was deafening as he stood ever so close to you. The night air was cold, but there was a heat erupting between the two of you. His hand lifted to brush some hair out of your face, before trailing down your cheek and under your chin.

“You’re safe here.” Was all he said, before releasing your chin and turning to head back to the village.

You released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Kristoff was a good looking man, that was a fact you couldn’t deny, but you knew you wouldn’t stay in this village forever. A relationship was the last thing on your mind.

Turning, you scanned the forest for the next target for you to chase. The forest was quiet now, a type of still that signaled to you something was wrong. You knelt, feeling the dirt beneath the leaves. A faint vibration could be felt. Someone was attempting to sneak up on you. Slowly, you moved for the knife tucked in your boot. You never went into the woods unprotected, but arms weren’t exactly something the loggers had on hand. They were a peaceful community, relying on their knife work and brute frames for protection.

A faint woosh buzzed your ear as a bullet flew past, landing in the tree in front of you. Without turning to see where it came from - or who it belonged to - you took off into the woods. Dodging silent bullets and various woodland obstacles, you gained a head on your attacker. There was a cave just ahead you could hide in, as long as you threw him off your path.

Shedding your coat, you threw it on the floor of the woods, appearing to have headed east back towards the village. It would throw off a novice or even intermediate tracker. You dove into the cave, crawling as far back from the light of the entrance as you could.

You realized immediately this was no novice tracker. Their footsteps were soon heard near the entrance of the cave. Holding your breath, you watched as your attacker moved closer and closer. Something about his appearance - the bottom half you could see at least - looked familiar. As he drew further from the entrance, taking in his surroundings, your breath hitched in your throat.

At first, it was the moon bouncing off what you thought was his gun… no. It appears he had ditched the gun further back in the woods. The moon appeared to have been hitting his arm… his metal arm.

The mask was the next thing that caused you concern. You were shown this mask every night. It haunted your dreams for months.

The Winter Soldier.

This is what you were trained for, You reminded yourself, staring down The Winter Soldier who had now noticed the cave.

You shifted silently into a crouched position, knife in hand, ready for him to ascend on you. His moves were slow, calculated, waiting for you to pounce. He must have been watching you in the woods on your hunt. You knew better, staying put exactly where you were. His build intimidated you. He was most definitely twice your size.

You can do this. Remember your training, you said to yourself, as he began to creep closer.

He was just steps away from the entrance. It was now or never. You lunged, slicing him right to the bone in his calf. If he was anything like the stories, you knew he would heal quickly. You weren’t expecting the grunt that erupted from him, as the pain took over.

Rolling out of your kneeling position, you stood, encircling him like a predator. He imitated your every move. It was like a dance. When you lunged, he stepped back, dodging your knife, your fist, whatever you came at him with. He was not a silent fighter, grunting and groaning anytime you struck him. Maybe this was why Hydra was so insistent you were trained to keep silent.

It was in this thought he caught you, grabbing hold of your wrist and twisting. You caught your breath, breathing through the pain of the tendons twisting. You threw the knife, catching it in your other hand and lunging forward despite the pain.

He blocked your attack, hitting you in the side hard enough to send you flying. You landed on the forest floor with a thud that reverberated through your bones. The air left your lungs, making it harder for you to move backwards as The Winter Soldier began marching towards you. Everything about him was militant, even his stealth.

He leered over you, watching you like the meek prey you felt like in this moment. You attempted to shuffle away from him, but it was no use. His hand came down on your throat, squeezing just enough to hold you still. His knife dug into the binding of your corset, ripping through the tight stitching, until the blade met your skin. Your silence shocked him. There wasn’t even a gasp for air as you maneuvered yourself to your backup knife tucked in its sheath against your thigh.

Blood pooled out around your corset and onto the pale yellow of your dress, mixing with the mud and dirt. The Winter Soldier twisted the knife more, confused as to how you were still moving, still silent, despite the pain he was inflicting upon you. Clearly, they hadn’t filled him in on who he was up against.

Your knife found the exposed side of his suit, striking over and over until he let go. He stood, unfazed by the knife wounds. You stumbled to stand up, ready to fight again despite your struggle to find solid ground.

Breathe. Breathe. You repeated to yourself, the mantra making it easier to steady yourself.

He lunged, his knife coming in contact with your cheek at your lousy attempt to dodge it. Blood trickled out and down from the wound that had already prepared to stitch itself back up. You caught his wrist during his second strike, pulling him closer until your noses were damn near touching.

You struck him right in the stomach, making him grunt loudly. You let go of his wrist, as he stumbled over a rock, falling flat on his face. Taking this opportunity, you moved him over to straddle him, taking the fabric from the bow on your dress off in one swift movement. You capture his wrists, bringing them above his head and tying them together.

It was a record how fast you had gotten the Winter Soldier immobilized. In another quick second you had pried his mask off. You wanted to see his face. If only Hydra could see you now. He looked up at you, a mixture of shock and another emotion you couldn’t make out written all over his face. He was scared- which was an emotion The Winter Soldier was trained to not feel. Someone else was in him entirely, you discovered. But for now he was still The Winter Soldier; he was still a threat.

“What do you want from me?” You asked, holding your knife right at his throat.

“To return you,” he answered. It was a struggle to get the words out. You felt a sense of accomplishment at this.

“Return me to who? To Hydra? Hah!” You couldn’t help the maniacal laugh that escaped you. His eyes only widened at this, the mixture of blood and dirt smeared on your face only making you appear more unhinged.

“Of course they sent you. Don’t you see, this is just a test. To see if my training was successful.” Rage fueled through you like a gasoline fire. He had no idea why he was sent here, or who you were.

“What do you mean?” His blue eyes shone brighter as he talked. He was genuinely confused, banking on the edge of someone else's consciousness.

“They trained me to be better than you, солдат. To replace you. They sent you after me on a death mission, because they knew I outrank you.” You responded, referring to him by his title, soldier.

The Winter Soldier didn’t look all that convinced. In fact, he looked at you like you were crazy. It was all a distraction. You failed, despite your training, to take notice of his fingers, which were working silently and quickly at the knot on his wrists. In two quick seconds, he had undone the fabric, flipping you over and confiscating the knife. He held it to your throat, his other hand gripping your wrists above your head.

“Now who outranks who? You have no idea what you are talking about крыса, you are a spy.” He said gruffly, pointing the knife deeper against your throat. Yet another trickle of blood ran down your skin.

“What?!” You asked bewildered, recognizing the name he called you from the camp. Rat.

“They told me dead or alive. I have no problem returning you in pieces.” The harshness in his voice made you stop. You couldn’t help the fear that took over, your blood running cold at the thought of the Winter Soldier tearing you to shreds. He now had the control, and there was no way you could win, not like this. You looked up at him, your eyes softening as his blues began to lighten. Someone was trying to break through. The Winter Soldier was breaking right in front of you, this was why they were training you.

As he looked down at you, a barrier broke in his psyche. He hesitated, pulling the knife back slightly, loosening his grip on your wrists. It allowed you the smallest window of time to grab the rock just above your fingertips, and smash it over his head. He fell instantly, his head slumping into your shoulder, the knife falling beneath you.

Using your strength you had regained by helping the loggers over the past few months, you rolled him off of you and sat up. You grabbed the knife and tucked it back in your boot before moving to The Winter Soldier. You strippeed him of his weapons, setting them in the cave.

During your training you had heard them talk about the methods of the current Winter Soldier. You had heard the trigger words, the wiping of his memory, the data they had on him. There was a good chance he would wake up his normal self. So you waited.

Dawn had rolled into the forest by the time he stirred. You stood instantly, waiting for him to come too. His eyes slowly opened, taking in the forest floor, the leaves, the tall trees above him. Panic flooded through him as he sat, instantly trying to figure out where he was but most importantly, what he had done.

His eyes fell to you, to all the blood that coated your face, dress, and skin. To the knife gleaming in your hand. He tried his hardest to recall what happened, but it was to no avail.

“Please…” he begged, catching you off guard. “What happened? Who are you?”

“You… you don’t remember?”

“No.”

“Who are you?” You asked skeptically. You had no idea the name of his original self.

“James. James Bucahnon Barnes. My friends call me Bucky.” He answered. His eyes were a little bluer than they were before, his demeanor a little weaker. You recognized the hue of blue… this was the person who hesitated.

“Okay James… Why did you come for me?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t even know where I am.”

“I know who you are солдат. You don’t have to play dumb with me.”

Bucky looked at you, letting out a sigh of defeat. He looked exhausted and in pain. You knew it couldn’t have been the stab wounds, they were already healed by now, scarred over.

“Does it hurt? The switch?” You asked, kneeling to be on his level. He looked at you quizzically.

“From The Winter Soldier to yourself?”

He was hesitant to answer. He still had no idea who you were. He remained silent, looking around for any sign of water. You watched him as he stood, turning around to take in his surroundings. His hair was longer, falling just around his eyes. In the daylight he looked less intimidating. He was big, but right now he just looked lost. A shell of his former self.

He took off down the hill, and you followed. He was headed towards the creek that ran through the woods.

“Don’t drink that,” you called out after him. He stopped in his tracks, looking back towards you.

“The water is unsanitary down here. If you want clean water and some food, you should follow me to the village. They’re safe people. They took me in without any question.” You offered, fidgeting with your dress. Bucky hesitated once more, debating on if he could trust you. He had recognized the hilt on the knife you had held- a Hydra emblem carved into it. He didn’t know who you were or where you came from, but he assumed he could trust you for now.

He nodded and followed you back up the hill.

When you arrived at the village, the loggers stood at the entrance, as if they had been waiting for you. You cursed under your breath as you realized they probably were. By now, they were supposed to be an hour into their day, but noticing you weren’t there probably worried them. Especially Kristoff, who stood front and center, a look of worry etched in his features.

“Where were you? Are you okay? What the hell happened?” Kristoff exclaimed, as you appeared out of the treeline. You forgot about the blood dried all over you, and the mysterious man in tow didn’t help.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you said, allowing his arms to grip the sides of your arms, holding your steady.

“Who's your friend?”

“This is Bucky, I invited him back here to freshen up.”

Kristoff didn’t believe you, the look on his face said it all. But he stood back, allowing for Bucky to move forward into the village. He moved hesitantly, taking in his surroundings.

The village was small, with cabin style houses. There was a covered common area in the middle where the families joined for dinner, before separating into their respective houses for the night. It was a tight knit community. One you felt Bucky might really need at this moment.

“Go get cleaned up dear, we’ll help him.” One of the wives, Anneleise, offered. Bucky stilled, not a fan of the idea.

“It’s okay, thank you Anneleise, but I think I should be the one to help him.” Anneleise nodded, handing you the extra towels.

You led Bucky to the cabin you stayed in. It had been abandoned after the previous owner passed from old age. It had been waiting for you, like fate.

“There’s a shower back here,” you pointed to the one bathroom nestled in the corner of the cabin. You handed him the towels. He paused, still hesitant to do anything.

“Look, I don’t know much, but here's what I do know: I escaped a Hydra camp where they were training me to be a better you. I found this village, who accepted me, scars and all, without hesitation. They are removed from the world to every extent. They hunt their own food, clean their own water, make their own clothes, everything. They attend a market in a nearby small town to sell their wood and that's it. I can only assume Hydra sent you to kill me- but in reality they know I can’t be killed. They made sure of that in my training. They wanted you to bring me back, so they could continue making me you. That's why you were after me.”

Bucky stared at you with so much empathy, it made you want to puke. You scoffed, pushing the towels into his hands and pushing him towards the shower.

“Go clean up,” you demanded. He gave a curt nod, before turning towards the bathroom.

Sighing, you unlaced the corset that was bound around your waist- now ruined by Bucky’s knife work. You placed it gently on the chair in the corner of the room, before undoing the dress. There was no way you could get the blood out of such a light color.

“Damn it, this was my favorite too.” You whispered, while grabbing a longer tight knit shirt to throw on for the time being.

You threw a few logs into the fireplace, lighting a fire. It was a chilly spring day, and the fire roared to life immediately, answering your prayers for warmth.

“Where are my weapons?” Bucky asked, emerging from the bathroom. He was still fully clothed and dirty.

“I hid them for now. Until we figure out what to do next.” You turned back to the fire, poking at it absentmindedly.

“How can I trust you?” Bucky whispered. It came out strangled. He was struggling to process this. You turned slowly, allowing him to assess your every move.

“I will not hurt you unless I have to. You are safe here so long as you are James Buchanon Barnes.”

It seemed to be enough reassurance for him, as he turned to head towards the bathroom once more.

| Feedback is Greatly Appreciated! |

Taglist (For this story only): @vicmc624 ,, @scott-loki-barnes ,,

#the winter soldier x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #The Winter Soldier x you #<33333 #alohastylesx #marvel #alohastylesx works #Bucky Barnes Fic #The Winter Soldier Fic #Marvel Fic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #The Winter Solider Fanfic

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loola-a · 1 day

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15 Lines of Dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

tyyy for the tag miss @yulgurr ^-^ been in a kristoff mood recently so... here comes the boy.......

Academy phase

𓆝 “Wanna see this cool bug I found?”

𓆝 “Okay, I’m ready to go back now.” [first kill quote]

𓆝 “Woah, a dance competition? This place really has it all! / I… can’t dance. At all. But I can try if you need me to!”

𓆝 Yes: “Cool! So, uh. What do I have to do?”

𓆝 No: “Ah, I get it. Don’t think the outfit suits me much anyway.”

𓆝 “Please don’t baby me, I get enough of that back home.”

𓆝 “For the safety of everyone around us, maybe it’ll be for the best if you do most of the cooking, Professor. I’ll cheer you on from the sidelines!”

𓆝 “Awwww. Over already? Next time I gotta sing everyone a song from Dagda!”

𓆝 “Sooooooo… Do you have any room in your class Professor? Pleaseeeeeeeee I can’t get told off by Aurora anymore! I can’t take it!”

𓆝 Decline: “Awwww okay. I’m gonna ask again tomorrow, though. And the day after and the day after that and the day after that and that day-”

War phase

𓆝 “I haven’t done much exploring recently,”

𓆝 “Sigh. So much work to do…”

𓆝 “I wonder… are they proud of me…?” [war phase death]

𓆝 “We should eat quick, and get back to work,”

𓆝 “Hm? I promised to sing a solo? Is that a joke?”

i tag.. you!! >:-]] show me those oc’s….

#fe3h #loola art #digital illustration #fe3h fanart #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3houses #fe #fe3h oc #ivory swans

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lelitachay · 21 days

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Frozen fanfiction: Søsken

Summary: An accident in the North Mountain forces Elsa to spend several weeks in her brother’s apartment under Anna’s care. During that time, Anna realises there is more to Elsa than meets the eye. The truth about Elsa’s past comes to light after an unexpected family reunion, and both girls’ lives begin to fall apart when they realise Elsa wasn’t the only one with a big secret and a turbulent past.

Anna/Kristoff - Elsa - Family - Family drama - hurt/comfort - Modern AU - Elsa & Kristoff are adoptive brother and sister - Ice bros - Found family - Serious injuries - Mental health issues - Health issues - Frohana

Links:

Fanfiction.net - HERE AO3 - HERE

Tumblr -

Chapters 1 to 10 - Here Chapters 11 to 20 - Here Chapters 21 to 30 - Here Chapters 31 to 40 - Here Chapter 41 to 50 - Here

Silver lining

The slam of the front door caught Anna by surprise. Placing the knife on the cutting board, she dried her hands with the dishcloth and turned around to see Kristoff go about his evening routine. He had already taken off his muddy boots, leaving them forgotten by the door. He then took his jacket off and left it on the hanger before he squatted on the ground to greet Sven.

Her lips turned upwards as she watched her boyfriend scratch the dog’s ears and mumble to him. Anna stayed quiet, allowing him a moment with his dog. No matter how much time Anna spent with Sven, she knew she was no replacement for Kristoff or Elsa. And even if she had no way to prove it, Anna was certain Sven was suffering alongside the family. Perhaps it was the long hours he spent alone in the apartment, or Kristoff’s sombre mood; but whatever it was, it had been enough for Sven to notice something wasn't right. And ever since Elsa had fallen ill, the dog spent his days laying on the sofa, waiting impatiently for either Kristoff or Elsa to show up.

Keeping one hand on Sven’s head, Kristoff stood up and finally locked eyes with Anna. A small, tired smile drew on his face and Anna felt her chest constricting. She was tired of seeing him hide his sadness behind forced smiles. Smiles Anna knew were solely for her and his family’s sake. The bags under his eyes and the wrinkles between his eyebrows were a telltale of his sleepless nights and the concern he couldn't mask.

Shaking off the awful feeling, Anna smiled back, her grin a clear contrast to Kristoff’s forced smile. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but she thought it was best to give him a minute. Allow him to talk about his day and then give him the news. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” he said without enthusiasm. He walked towards the closest chair and sat down with a tired sigh.

“How was your day?” The question was stupid, Anna knew. It was late in the evening, meaning Kristoff had worked overtime and missed his chance to visit his sister yet again.

“Absolute rubbish.”

“I’m sorry,” she said as she turned around and picked up the knife to continue cooking while he vented. “Is your boss giving you a hard time?”

The owner of the ice factory had always been a reasonable man; but even if he had the best intentions, Kristoff was still one of the few people who could be in charge of the plant whenever he was not around.

“No. Not really.” He walked to the fridge and grabbed a drink. He closed the door and leaned against it to watch Anna cook. “He’s been more than understanding given the situation. When Elsa got sick, Jorgen and I agreed I would work with the guys during the morning and early afternoon. On his part, he would work the afternoon and evening shift on his own, allowing me to get off from work earlier. The boss didn't mind, as long as there was someone at the plant at all times…”

“Okay… That sounds reasonable.”

“Guess who broke a foot yesterday?”

Anna stopped chopping and turned to him. “Is Jorgen okay?”

He nodded as he took a long sip from the bottle. “The idiot broke his foot skateboarding.”

Anna stopped what she was doing once again, her brows knitting together as she tried to put a face to the name. “I thought Jorgen was the man I met at the company’s party last year.”

“He is.”

Anna looked at Kristoff. The man she was thinking about was at least fifteen years older than Kristoff. She even remembered meeting his wife and daughters. “Oh, I wouldn’t have thought he knew how to skateboard.”

“He doesn't,” Kristoff said, breathing out tiredly.

“What do you mean he doesn’t?”

“He bought his first skateboard three weeks ago.”

“What was he thinking?

“How could I know? Something tells me his midlife crisis had a lot to do with that stupid idea.” Kristoff exclaimed and Anna couldn't help but laugh. She could understand her boyfriend’s frustration perfectly well, but his exasperated tone of voice made her crack nonetheless. At least her laugh made him smile. “Boss said he'll try to find someone to cover his shifts, until then I've got to stay over time. Stupid idiot.”

Anna chuckled and returned her attention to her task at hand. “He didn't do it on purpose, honey.”

“Of course not,” Kristoff agreed. “But I hope he learns a lesson.”

The way he kept scraping the label off his bottle told Anna he was feeling uneasy. Knowing exactly the reason why, Anna thought it was best to finally share the news with him.

“Kristoff, there’s—”

“Did you get to see Elsa today?” he interrupted, not realising Anna was trying to say something.

“I did,” she said. Once again, she stopped cooking and turned to him. “I got home an hour or so ago. I've got some news…”

“No,” he was quick to say, walking away from Anna. “No, no.”

Anna turned around, her eyes narrowing. “What?”

“I don’t think I can take any more bad news, Anna.” He slouched on the chair and tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I just can’t.

Sitting next to him, Anna leaned forward. He was avoiding her eyes but Anna didn’t mind, all he needed to do was listen. “The antibiotics are winning. Blood pressure is going up. Oxygen levels are higher than Nielsen expected…”

She trailed off, allowing Kristoff a moment to process the information. It took a couple of seconds, but finally he sat up. “What?”

A smile plastered on Anna’s face. “They've decided to wean her off sedation.”

Anna wasn’t entirely sure what reaction to expect out of Kristoff, but not once did she expect him to stare unfocused at the floor, unresponsive.

“Honey, did you hear what I just said?” Placing a hand on his knee, she explained herself better. “She’s going to be fine.”

Kristoff barely glanced at her before he focused on her hand. He stared at it, until he finally held it tight.

Anna stared at their intertwined hands as well, unsure of what to say. After a moment, a slight tremor caught her attention and she looked up to see Kristoff crying.

“Kristoff?” she asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

“I fucking needed this,” he choked out. “I don't know how much longer I could've put up with this shit. I—” Unable to continue, he wrapped Anna in a tight hug and hid his face in the crook of her neck.

Anna froze in place, surprised to see his hard shell cracking. For days she had been expecting him to reach a breaking point, knowing the worry was steadily dragging him down. Though, she was surprised to see it happen at that moment. Unsure of what else to do, Anna hugged him tight, glad he was finally letting it all out.

I took Kristoff a couple of minutes to regain some composure and calm down enough to be able to speak again. He let go of Anna and scrubbed his face with both hands, trying in vain to erase any vestige of his emotional breakdown. When he finally looked at her, Anna was glad to see an honest smile drawing on his face, despite his watery eyes.

“I should probably call dad,” Kristoff said when the implications of the news finally hit him. “See if mum needs anything.”

“She's not staying at the hospital tonight,” Anna called after him when stood up to look for the phone.

He picked the phone and turned around to look at her. “I thought you said they'd begun weaning her off the drug.”

“Nielsen said it'll take several hours for her to start responding,” she said. “He insisted Gerda went home tonight.”

“Is Marshall staying, then?”

With a nod of her head, Anna explained what Nielsen had told them earlier that day. “Marshall needs to keep an eye on Elsa’s powers. Nielsen is convinced they’ll react before Elsa’s fully conscious.”

Kristoff pursed his lips. “They don't really work that way. But I think it's safe to be prepared.” He then dialled his parents’ number. “I'm glad Elsa had the chance to talk to the big guy before all this,” he told Anna while he waited. “At least he knows what to expect. You were right about him.”

Anna nodded but stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. She was glad Kristoff and his family were on better terms with Marshall now that he was giving them a hand. After all, Marshall was indeed doing everything in his power to help like she had originally imagined. Sadly, Anna wasn’t entirely sure she had done the right thing. Ever since her conversation with Lena, Anna didn’t know what to expect anymore. She had been reading, trying to find information about his disorder; and so far, everything she’d been able to find on the matter did nothing but increase Anna’s ever present worry.

Promising his father to be at their place before sunrise, Kristoff hung up the phone and walked back to the kitchen. The conversation with Kai had helped him remain calm and control his need to go to the hospital as soon as possible. Even when he knew it was useless to go outside the scheduled visiting hours, he couldn’t help but feel anxious about seeing Elsa. He had only seen her twice in the last five days, and now that he knew she’d be waking up soon, he had to control himself not to go sit in the waiting room until she did. At least, he had found a good excuse to stop by the hospital the following morning. He could drop his mother off before work, stay a few minutes and wait for Marhall or Nielsen to give him a report on Elsa’s health. It wasn’t the same as seeing Elsa, but at least he would go to work knowing more about his sister’s condition.

He entered the kitchen and smiled when he saw Anna. She was too focused on the plating of their dinner to notice him, and he was glad that was the case. He knew exactly why she had chosen to cook an elaborate dish for them that night. Early on in their relationship, Kristoff discovered Anna enjoyed reading cooking books and trying new exotic dishes. She didn’t care too much about cooking on a daily basis, but she was fond of the challenge of trying to cook a new dish from time to time. Following the intrinsicate steps, controlling the time and ingredients, making sure the dish looked just like in the pictures… Those were the things that fascinated her, and whenever she had the time or needed a distraction —like she desperately needed lately—, she’d get to work on a new, extravagant dish. Her hobby was something Kristoff enjoyed as well, and there were times he made sure to find strange dishes for her to try. Given the stress of the last few weeks, Kristoff thought it was more than obvious for Anna to try and find a distraction. Especially now that they both were impatient to see Elsa and all they could do was wait.

Thinking it was best to give her a hand with the table, he began moving the books and things that were scattered over the table.

“How’s your dad?” Anna asked when she finally heard him moving around the kitchen.

“Optimistic,” Kristoff answered with a small smile. It was a nice change to hear his father being confident things would turn out for the best for once. “Mum was already asleep. Dad says she plans to show up at the hospital around six instead of eight like she usually does. I offered to pick her up.”

“They won’t let you see Elsa, honey.”

Kristoff knew she was only trying to save him the disappointment, but still he wished she’d be a bit more positive about it. “I can be charming when I want, a nurse might take pity on me.”

Anna chuckled and looked at him over her shoulder. “As long as they don’t confuse being charming with flirting…”

“You know better than anyone I have no game,” laughed Kristoff.

“I know,” Anna said with a smirk. “But some of those nurses are sleep deprived and haven’t seen the outside world in over twelve hours.”

“Ouch.”

“I love you.” Her merry voice said before Kristoff had the chance to complain.

“See, you say those words,” Kristoff said, standing behind her. “Though I don’t think you really know what they mean.”

“Shut up. You know I’m crazy about you.”

Kristoff grinned, knowing it was true. To his good luck, she was very much in love with him. He kissed her cheek and went back to his task at hand. He picked Anna’s bag and put some of her school supplies inside. He placed a couple of books in there as well and left it on the closest armchair. Being careful not to mix up the papers and documents scattered on the table, he placed one on top of the other, and moved them to the small coffee table in the living room. As he was placing them down in the right order, a small leaflet called his attention. He left it on the side and finished what he was doing before he picked it up again. He skimmed the content quickly. The different pictures printed on it piqued his curiosity even further.

“What’s this?” he asked, unsure why the whole leaflet was filled with images of people displaying violent acts.

Anna turned around, glancing quickly at him to see what he was talking about. As soon as she saw the red and blue pamphlet, Anna’s face paled. “Oh, umm… Nothing. You can put that away. Food will be ready soon.”

“IED?” Kristoff read out loud. “What's ‘IED’?”

“It’s nothing,” Anna insisted. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Dyscontrol syndrome.” Kristoff continued reading in silence for a while until a list of the common signs of the mental disorder were listed and he began reading them aloud: “Uncontrollable rage, shouting, threatening people… The list goes on and on. Whatever it is, it doesn't sound like nothing. Can you imagine dealing with a person like this? I’d be on edge at all times.”

When Anna didn’t answer, Kristoff looked up. She was still looking in his direction, the plating of their food forgotten, but her eyes were fixed on the floor instead of him.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh?” Anna said, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before she turned around and picked up the plates in a hurry. “Yes. Of course. Just thinking.”

“About?” Kristoff wondered. He knew perfectly well there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“It doesn't matter.” Anna placed the food on the table and looked up with a nervous smile.

Kristoff skimmed the rest of the information written and noticed there was a phone number circled at the very end. This was all the confirmation he needed to know there was something troubling Anna. “What’s this about, Anna?”

“Okay…”

She hesitated and he felt sick at the pit of his stomach.

“First of all, don't get mad. Just listen.”

He glanced at the pictures on the leaflet once again and then tried to meet Anna’s eyes, afraid he’d see fear written in them. “Anna… I’ve been irritable these past few weeks. More distant. But it hasn’t been that bad, has it? I mean, the lack of sleep and constantly worrying about Elsa has taken a toll on me, I know, but I would never— I don’t recall doing any of these—”

Anna gasped and, without hesitation, she crossed the room to stand in front of him. “Honey, no.” She said with a sad smile. She placed her hands on top of his, crumpling the piece of paper and throwing it to the floor. “You’ve never done anything that can be considered even remotely violent.”

He looked at her hands, still holding his before he dared meet her eyes. “If I ever raised my voice at you, I swear I—”

“This has nothing to do with you. I’d say I’m way more violent than you could ever be,” Anna chuckled.

Her small smile and the tender love in her eyes helped Kristoff understand she was being honest and he breathed out in relief. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he ever behaved in such a deplorable way.

Bending down, he picked the crumpled pamphlet and showed it to Anna once again. “Then what’s this?”

Anna glanced at the paper once more, finally noticing the red circle. She sighed nervously and guided Kristoff back to the closest chair. “The other day I ran into Marshall's mother,” she began to explain. “Well, I didn't run into her. We were at her house after all. You can't run into someone in their own home, can you?”

“Anna,” Kristoff warned, knowing she was sidetracking.

“Right, right.” She patted the air between them. “I was waiting for Marshall to get ready before we went back to the hospital and she—”

“When was this?”

“The day I asked Marshall to look after Elsa. Anyway, she began talking to me. She mentioned how being allowed to see Elsa would help Marshall with…” With a nod of her head, Anna pointed to the pamphlet he was still holding. “I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. I asked the campus librarian if there were any books about this disorder. He suggested I’d better talk to the university counsellor.”

“And I guess you did.” It was clear that’s where Anna had gotten the pamphlet in the first place.

“I think she was concerned about my well-being and ended up circling the emergency number for me.”

Breathing in deeply, Kristoff pinched the brink of his nose and breathed out slowly. He was doing his best to remain calm, but life kept insisting things had to be hard. Permanently hard. And difficult. And unbearably complicated. “What exactly did the counsellor say about this?” he asked, smacking the folded paper on the table.

“Umm… It’s a mental disorder. The person suffering from it has no control over their violent outbursts.”

Biting his lower lip, Kristoff took a moment to understand what it all meant. “You're telling me Marshall could impulsively attack someone with no control whatsoever?”

“His mother said it's in remission,” Anna offered, hoping that would help him stay calm.

Her worried smile did nothing to help, however. “Anna, you’ve seen the way he acts. It doesn't sound like remission to me.”

“I know. I know.” Anna repeated, as she rubbed her face. She was finally letting the overly optimistic mask slip. And once it did, Kristoff was surprised to see how truly concerned she was. “That’s why I can’t stop thinking about it. What if I made a mistake? Do you think I made a mistake? What if Kai was right? I mean, look at this.” She grabbed the crumpled paper once again and began reading out loud. “Outbursts are, more often than not, too extreme for the situation. They occur on and off unannounced, causing major distress for everyone involved.

“When she said he had an ‘explosive disorder’, I thought she meant he got mad from time to time. Madder than the average person, sure. But I never thought…” She trailed off, stopping to think before her eyes met his filled with trepidation. “What about the night he tried to beat the crap out of Hans? Do you think he was being serious?”

“Anna…”

“What about him getting fired? Kai and Nielsen said he got into a fight. Didn’t they mention him beating someone up to a pulp?” Kristoff had no chance to answer before she continued, “I’m so sorry, Kristoff. I shouldn't have told Nielsen about him. I should've kept my mouth shut for once.”

“Wait no,” Kristoff said, holding Anna’s hand and stopping her tirade before her anxiety blew things out of proportion. “I won’t let you do this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, too tense to even try to understand what he was trying to say.

Only then Kristoff noticed her eyes welling up with tears and he tried to remain calm and offer Anna some comfort. “I'm not letting you take the blame. We all agreed he was a good choice. Even Nielsen said he was our best option… Perhaps, you did the right thing, Anna. We both know Marshall wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.” He waited for her to nod before he continued. “Elsa’s been friends with him for over three years now. She seems to know he’s got a temper, she’s used to it.”

“It’s not just a temper, Kristoff.”

He grabbed the leaflet once more and read the most important details once again. “Not once has Elsa mentioned anything like this. Perhaps it's not this bad.” He looked up and noticed Anna staring at him with an incredulous expression. “What?”

Anna put her hand on top of Kristoff’s, caressing his knuckles. “I’d like to stay positive, and I’m glad you’re trying as well… It’s just— I was certain you would freak out when you found out about this.”

“I am freaking out.” Kristoff laughed humorlessly. “I guess I’m trying not to let this change things. Marshall is helping, isn't he? He’s been doing exactly what he was told. Nielsen trusts him and mum is finally allowing herself to sleep.”

“Maybe you’re right. He seems calmer now,” agreed Anna. “It has helped him, just like Lena said.”

“Who’s Lena?”

“Marshall’s mother.” Anna chuckled.

Kristoff nodded and they both stayed silent, wondering if continuing to trust Marshall was in fact a good idea. Anna was the first to interrupt their pensive mood.

“What about later on? When this is all over…”

“There isn’t much we can do,” admitted Kristoff. “I don't think this will change the way Elsa feels about the guy. I'll try to keep an eye open. Talk to him if I ever get the chance.”

“But what if—”

“I’m no better than my aunt and uncles if I say Elsa is better off without him in her life.”

From the very first night, Marshall realised there was a change in the atmosphere in the early morning hours. Even in the remote room he could hear the sound of silence at the break of dawn. It was a strange feeling, if he thought about it. Under any other circumstances, he would have loved the peace and quiet. With Elsa unconscious by his side, he couldn't say he enjoyed it anymore. It reminded him of the deafening silence of the witching hour when he was a kid. Dreadfully quiet.

For this reason, he was very much surprised when a voice interrupted the silence for a second time that night.

“Any changes?” Nielsen’s voice echoed in the small room and Marshall had to blink a few times to make sure the man was actually standing by the door.

He had lowered his guard, it seemed. He hadn’t heard him getting closer, even when he had spent most part of the night alert of any undesirable visitors lurking in the hall. Had he fallen asleep, perhaps? It didn't seem likely.

Knowing the old doctor was a man who didn't like wasting time, he glanced at Elsa quickly, trying to find anything worth mentioning. She was still resting peacefully. The machines kept the air flowing and her heart rate in check, like they had done all night.

Nielsen watched him expectantly, while Gerda waited just outside the door for the man to move and let her into the room.

“Nothing. I know it takes time for a person to start responding,” he said, feeling chattier than usual. Tiredness did that to him at times. “But I’ll be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping she’d start regaining consciousness during the night.”

Nielsen nodded and walked into the room. Gerda followed suit and greeted him with a gentle smile.

“Here, allow me.” Marshall stood up, ignoring the stiffness in his legs, and offered Gerda the only chair in the room. He knew she was there to stay, even when there was still two hours left before her shift. He couldn’t blame the woman, though. As soon as Nielsen had informed them Elsa would eventually come out of the coma, he noticed the spark in her eyes, silently begging for the doctor to let her stay during the night.

Gerda thanked him and sat down, wasting no time to hold the hand he had previously been holding. He didn’t mind swapping places. There was no-one who’d offer Elsa more comfort than the old woman if she were to wake up.

A nurse walked into the room and requested him to move, drawing his attention back to the doctor. Nielsen was already checking Elsa’s vital signs and giving orders to the young girl who had just entered. The room felt even smaller than a moment before and he knew it was a matter of time until he was requested to leave.

“Do you need help?” he offered before he could think of anything better to say. “I could stay.”

“Go home and rest.” Nielsen dismissed him with a shake of his head.

There was no need for him to stay. No task to be fulfilled. Yet his feet felt glued to the ground; a knot tightening in his stomach at the idea of walking out of the room.

“Hålkesen,” Nielsen called his name, his voice a clear warning. “I said, go home.”

He looked at Elsa once again. Her breathing was still matching the ventilator rate and there were no signs of her responding. She was still completely vulnerable and Marshall didn’t feel comfortable leaving her that day. At least until he was certain someone would stay by Elsa's side at all times.

“Could I talk to you, then? In private.”

This piqued not only Nielsen’s but Gerda’s curiosity. The nurse looked at him as well and he wondered what was so difficult to understand about the idea of privacy.

“Is it truly important?”

Marshall's silence and seriousness seemed to be enough for Nielsen to trust his word. And so, with a sigh he handed his pen to the nurse and motioned for him to step out of the room. “Update her chart, please.”

Before the doctor walked out, Marshall noticed the subtle gesture he made, intended for only Gerda to see.

After closing the door behind him, Nielsen crossed his arms and waited impatiently for Marshall to speak. “This better be important.”

What had happened in the middle of the night wasn’t serious. Perhaps Marshall was needlessly mistrusting people, but he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance when Elsa was involved. Thinking how best to explain his uneasiness, he took a moment before he spoke.

“A doctor came to see Elsa late at night. A nurse I’ve never seen before was accompanying him,” Marshall said, his voice barely over a whisper. “I know it may sound ridiculous, but I haven't seen them in the unit before.”

He expected Nielsen to tell him he was wasting his time or simply being foolish, yet the surprise in the man's eyes was tinted with concern.

“Who?”

“He introduced himself as Landvik. He asked questions about Elsa.” The crease between Nielsen’s eyebrows told Marshal he had done the right thing sharing his concerns. Massaging his neck to relieve some tension, he explained, “He asked about her recovery process and any perceptible changes I’ve seen in the last few days.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him all the necessary information was in the bed chart. The rest was between you and Elsa’s family.”

“Good,” Nielsen murmured. He stayed quiet for a while, his eyes fixed on the floor, thinking deeply. “Make sure that’s all he gets. All the information he needs is either in the chart or in my reports, as you said, clear?”

Marshall nodded, thinking what it all meant. Before he could ask, Nielsen turned around and headed to the room. So he stopped the doctor, once again. “Why would he come see Elsa personally? Why ask me these questions and not the team working in this unit? It makes no sense.”

Nielsen stopped, his hand on the door knob. He pondered for a while before he met Marshall’s eyes and said, “Use your head, kid. From a professional point of view, what’s the first thing that came to your mind when you found out about Elsa?”

“About her powers, you mean?” he asked in a low voice. “It’s impossible for her to do what she does. It makes no sense.”

“Exactly.”

“So, what?” He was trying to remain calm, but he didn’t like what Nielsen was implying. “You’re telling me he—”

A high-pitched scream coming from inside the room stopped Marshall before he could get any more information. Concern washed over both men and they ran into the room — their conversation forgotten.

“What’s going on?” Nielsen demanded to know.

The young nurse was pressed against the wall, pointing at Elsa’s bed. A shocked, frightened expression on her face.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Gerda repeated over and over as she got closer to the nurse. “Please calm down. This is what we talked about.”

As soon as Gerda saw the girl nod her head, she turned to Elsa and leaned closer, speaking softly. “Dear? Can you hear me?”

When Nielsen moved closer to Elsa’s bed, Marshall finally got the chance to see what had been causing all the chaos: Snowflake-patterned frost covered a quarter of the bed and it was slowly spreading to one of the legs of the bed.

The young girl seemed disturbed by the display of Elsa’s powers, and Marshall couldn’t really blame her. He had seen Elsa use her powers more than once already and he still had a hard time understanding them. It was a miracle the nurse had calmed down enough not to panic nor scream anymore.

“Step aside, please,” Nielsen told Gerda and reluctantly she obeyed.

“Elsa.” Nielsen called her name once, twice, before he asked, “can you hear me?”

There was no response so he moved closer, to try and check her pupil reflexes. As soon as he touched her face, her eyes opened wide. The icy blue of her eyes drawing everyone's attention.

“Elsa, over here.” Her eyes didn’t track Nielsen’s hand movement.

“Come closer,” he asked Gerda, and as soon as she walked in Elsa’s field of vision, her eyes fell on her.

A smile drew on Gerda’s face as her eyes brimmed with tears. Marshall breathed out in relief and felt positive things would turn out okay when the ice stopped spreading.

“I need you to blink twice if you can hear me clearly,” Nielsen instructed. Once again, however, Elsa didn’t respond, her eyes still fixed on Gerda. “Elsa?”

“Move to the side,” Nielsen requested Gerda. “Slowly. Away from her line of vision.”

“Nielsen, I—”

“Do as I say, please.”

When Elsa could no longer see Gerda, her eyes moved around the room, desperately trying to find her. Her eyes found Marshall’s then and hoping she'd recognise him, he smiled at her. This seemed to help her calm down until Nielsen stepped in between.

“Can you blink for me, Elsa?”

Losing sight of familiar faces seemed to set Elsa off and her breathing pattern increased rapidly. Steadily becoming laboured, above the ventilator’s rate.

“Don't be afraid. I need you to keep your eyes on me. Gerda is right beside you.”

“Doctor Nielsen, the ice.” The nurse pointed to the frost spreading fastly down the leg of the bed and onto the floor. She took a few steps back and Marshall thought it was best to help her before she panicked. Grabbing the nurse by the shoulders, he forced her out of the ice’s way and closer to the door, in case she wanted to leave.

Gerda moved Nielsen out of the way and held Elsa’s good hand, making sure she looked at her. “I'm here, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but you’re fine. Trust me.”

“The ice keeps spreading,” Marshall said calmly. Stating a fact with no intention of alarming anyone.

“Move.” Forcing Gerda to the side, Nielsen grabbed a syringe from the tray he had brought with him earlier and injected a small dose in Elsa’s IV.

Gerda’s face turned red and she did nothing to hide her disapproval. “Jonnas, what are you doing?”

“I wasn’t expecting her to be this responsive so soon.” He informed her. He seemed unfazed by his choice and Marshall had to count to ten not to snap at the man.

“We’ll run some tests. I’m positive we might be able to extubate her before she becomes fully conscious again.”

“She was responding accordingly, there was no need to—”

“I’m not going to take any risks.”

As soon as the ice began to melt, Nielsen called the nurse’s name and listed the steps he wanted her to follow. He explained the dose given to Elsa was small —just enough to keep her calm for no more than an hour or two— and he needed to make sure everything was in order before she woke up again.

When the nurse was about to leave the room, he called her back. “I’ll need you to restrain her, just to be safe.”

“Jonnas…” Gerda warned, displeased with the idea.

“It’s not up for debate.”

Marshall tightened his fists. But he managed to remain calm. If he were to lose control of his emotions, he’d risk losing his right to see Elsa. But that didn't mean he'd silently agree with Nielsen's idea.

“Stay with her at all times.” With that last order, Nielsen walked out of the room and Marshall followed. Perhaps he could speak with the man, change his last choice without a quarrel taking place

“Nielsen, I—”

“You go home.”

Marshal was about to yell at the man to listen to them, but Gerda placed a hand on his arm stopping him on time. Nielsen continued walking down the hall unaware of Marshall’s rage.

“It's best if you go,” Gerda said in a low voice. “I'll make sure she’s safe.”

Tightening his fists once again, Marshall took a few deep breaths and counted to ten, in English, Norwegian and French. When the lump in his throat disappeared, he looked at the old woman, who was looking back at him with concern. She understood his indignation. He could see it in her eyes. But unlike him, she knew better than to start a fight. Knowing it was best for everyone if he left, he apologised to Gerda and disappeared down the hall, ashamed of his behaviour.

Marshall walked out of the wards at a slow pace, trying hard to focus on anything but Nielsen's choices.

Once in the main reception, he informed Andrea, who had just started her shift, he was leaving. While he waited for her to check something he didn’t care about, he felt a hand tapping his shoulder. He cursed under his breath and turned around, hoping it wasn’t one of his ex-colleagues.

“Marshall,” Kristoff greeted him. “Have you seen my mother? She said she'd come back and— Is everything okay?” He asked as soon as they locked eyes. “Please, tell me she’s okay.”

Taking another deep breath, he nodded. Kristoff had nothing to do with him being annoyed and so he tried to put on a good face. Elsa was okay, after all. He needed to focus on that. And he needed Kristoff to know that was the case. “She's responding,” he said with a small smile.

“Thank goodness,” Kristoff breathed out in relief. “Do you think I could—”

“I doubt Nielsen will let you see her. I was just kicked out of the room.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

It was meant to be a joke, though Marshall should have known Kristoff would get suspicious. Playing dumb, he smiled again and nodded. “Yes. I'm just tired. I guess I don't know what I'm saying. Elsa's fine. Your mother's with her.”

He looked at the receptionist to make sure everything was in order, and once she told him he could leave, he began walking towards the main door.

“See you in a couple of hours,” he said, hoping not to drag the conversation any longer.

“Wait, Marshall,” Kristoff called after him, catching up with him by the door. “I want– Umm… Do you want to have breakfast?”

“What?”

“You’ve been looking after my sister for over four days now and we haven’t really spoken to one another. I haven’t even said thank you.”

“I haven’t got any money on me.”

“It’s on me,” Kristoff said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got an hour to kill before work and I could use the company.”

Marshall wanted to decline. Go home, take a shower and sleep. But deep down he knew it was best to accept the invitation.

I’m not even sure if this is what was supposed to happen in this chapter anymore. On Monday morning I sat down to write and edit a few scenes and dialogues I had, and somewhere along the way the characters began to make their own choices and here we are.

I’m glad they did, though. I really like the final result. It was time Anna and Kristoff could enjoy an evening on their own, even if they spent more time worrying than anything else.

Thank you all for your kind reviews. I love you all and I promise I’ll respond to all of them soon.

Take care and don’t forget to leave a little something in the box below. It always makes my day, week and month.

Read you soon!

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#søsken #sosken #elsa #anna #kristoff #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #frozen fanfic #chapter 51 #modern AU

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afatlotofchance · 6 months

Text

Kristoff's Full Year (commission)

This was a commission for a weight gain story involving Kristoff from Frozen. If I recall this was written when there was still just the Frozen movie, and not its sequel. Enjoy!

Kristoff felt really uncomfortable. He was starting to regret his decision. Anna had begged him to go live with her in the castle, and while he resisted the fifteen first times, he gave up at the sixteenth. This girl was certainly persistent, and darn cute. He thought to himself “Hey, why not? After all, living in a castle isn’t that bad.”

And it wasn’t that bad. At first. It was nice to sleep in a warm, soft, comfy bed. To be able to wear fancy, expensive, shiny clothes. To not be insulted or beaten up by angry merchants or bandits in the woods.

But then, there was… the rest. All those servants who kept being polite, formal and careful around him. All those weird rules he had sometimes trouble understanding, these strange etiquettes people kept referring to but that he could see nowhere. The domestics were patient and kind with him, yes, but it made him feel worse. They acted like that out of pity. They knew that he didn’t fit in, that he wasn’t made for this kind of life. It showed in their eyes.

And, on top of that, there was… well, the bigness.

Not the castle. Kristoff had grown accustomed to live in big, deserted places. The castle was like the forest, only with a roof on top, and less cold. And less wolves.

No, what really troubled him were… the meals.

Three different types of soups. Followed by five different meats, seven different fishes, eight different cheeses, and an incalculable amount of pastries. There were beasts on the royal table he had never heard of or seen in his life, like spider crabs or swans. He didn’t know how he liked his food cooked – medium, rare, blue, these terms meant nothing to him. For him, meat was cooked, burned raw, there was no in between or nuances. And the sauces! There were so many sauces! He never had sauces before, outside of Sven’s saliva, and even then, saliva wasn’t changing the taste of the food! Here, he had to be careful not asking too little or too much… And the sauces could be sweet, salty, yellow, green, sour, plain… His head was spinning after each meal. Hell, one time they asked him what kind of quarry he wanted: he thought they were speaking of stone-pits!

As a result, Kristoff took a shy approach to the food in the castle. He ate very little, always left a bit on the plates, sent back dishes to the kitchen. He was used to two, maybe even one snack a day, not five parades of dishes between sunrise and nightfall! The only thing reassuring in these meals was the bread. Plain, old bread, you can never go wrong with it.

Well, that’s what he thought. Until he discovered that the castle’s kitchen offered ten different types of bread.

Kristoff’s lack of eating worried the cooks. Kristoff feared that the servants would realize that he wasn’t a man of refined taste, but it ended up being the opposite: the staff thought that he couldn’t enjoy his cooking because it was too bad for him. So the chefs tried harder and harder to please him, commanding the finest, richest, rarest food, multiplying the spices, the herbs, the sauces, making each meal bigger, more complex, more extravagant… But still, nothing. Kristoff was eating like a bird. Only Sven was eating his heart’s fill, and that was because he only ate raw carrots! The cooks tried to include a lot of carrots in Kristoff’s menu, assuming that he would have the same preferences as his mount, but that was another failure.

Anna, noticing the state of despair in which the cooks were plunged, thought it was time to step in and talk to Kristoff.

“Kristoff, why are you vexing them like that?”

“Who?”

“The cooks! They are all working so hard to please you! And yet, you keep eating nothing of what they prepare! I saw the head cook crying in his apron this morning! Why don’t you try to be a bit more considerate? You know, food doesn’t appear magically on the table! There are people behind it, who make it with patience and love!”

“I’m not trying to be inconsiderate! It’s just that…”

Kristoff sighed.

“I don’t know how to act here, okay? I know I don’t belong here! You understand that, Anna? I was raised by trolls, in wild nature! I ate raw vegetables each day! I drank straight out of the brooks! I’m not used to all this… fancy food. And there are so many forks and knives and spoons, and things I don’t even know how to name! I don’t know what to use!”

“I prepared you a little guide to help you with the cutlery.”

“I know, but still! And, anyway, it’s all too much! I always fear I will not be able to finish the meal! I don’t want to get sick! It’s a wonder and your sister are so scrawny with eating so much!”

“I’m not scrawny!” Anna replied. “I’m a strong woman, with a perfect weight for her height and age! And we are used to these kinds of meals. Just like you can get used to them!”

“I don’t know if…”

“Have you learned nothing from what happened with Elsa? Stop fearing what people will think of you! Restraining yourself and hiding your feelings is not a good solution. Accept the gifts people want to make to you, alright? It’s all just good intention. They want to please you. So, eat your fill, eat what your heart desires, and the servants will be glad. You’ll show them you appreciate their work, and they’ll probably stop preparing so much food. Trust me, you can pig out a bit if you like, it will only do good for everyone.”

Kristoff agreed. Anna kissed him on the cheek as a reward.

The head cook never stopped preparing so much food. He was filled with joy at the mere sight of Kristoff cleaning his dishes and digging in his meals – and he thought that him regaining his appetite was because he had finally reached the perfect level of food quality and quantity. As a result, he kept working hard to provide rich, filling and nicely fattening food.

Kristoff actually ended up enjoying this journey on the culinary world. He discovered so much new things! He ate smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, prawns and crab, cod and herring, sardine and mackerel, mutton stew and pork chops. He was particularly amazed at the amount of seafood the cooks served him. There were so many weird things with weird names and weird looks and weird tastes. Oysters and clams, lobsters and mussels, scallops and cockles… And there were so many ways to cook them! Braised, boiled, roasted, raw, smoked, salted, pickled!

For the first time in his life, Kristoff went to bed with a full belly and without any fear of being hungry ever again.

And this new life took quite quickly a toll on him. After all, you couldn’t go from eating whatever berries and potatoes you could find in the woods to a full breakfast-brunch-lunch-afternoon snack-dinner routine without seeing some changes in your body.

Kristoff was living in the castle for roughly two months now. He was naked in his bathroom (that he tried to not use as much as the servants wanted him to). He looked at himself in the mirror and said:

“Yep. I’m fat.”

He wasn’t enormous, of course. But he still had his flab.

His belly was soft now, soft and fleshy. It was still quite flat, but thicker and plumper. He had grown love handles, which gave him the feeling that he was carrying a belt of fat around his waist. And his chest, that used to be stone-hard, felt more doughy and flaccid than usual.

“It would be a good time to work out a bit… Staying in the castle all day long and never going outside isn’t the best for a mountain man like me.”

It was true that his level of physical activity had drastically dropped. While the castle was big enough to make him walk several hours a day, it was nothing compared to the roads he had to take, the mountains he had to climb or the ice he had to harvest.

At this thought, he looked outside. One of the windows in his room was overlooked a small court, the one where his sled waited. The beautiful sled Ana gave him as a gift. The beautiful sled, with its cup holder. He tried it maybe once or twice, and then he put it there.

He should be getting out more, he thought. Doing his job.

Because, as it turned out, “Royal Ice Harvester” was a real job after all – but it consisted mostly of sending other men to work, and watch the team as they cut the ice, and making sure there wasn’t any accident. But he wasn’t supposed to cut the ice himself. He was there to oversee.

It was nice at first, to give orders around, to teach young men how to correctly cut the ice, to advice the team on what were the best times and places in order to have a good ice. But soon, he felt quite useless. They all knew their work and what they were supposed to do. They were good workers, with strong bodies and a zero-percent rate of accidents. They didn’t need a babysitter. So, he came back to the castle and left them be, only checking if the amount of ice supposed to be delivered each month was due.

Thinking so much of ice made his stomach growl. He wanted some ice cream. The castle’s cooks could make some wonderful ice creams, with flavors only Heaven could surpass. He salivated a bit, but then wiped the drool on his chin.

“Come on Kristoff, we said exercise!”

He got onto the floor and, still naked, started doing some push ups.

After a series of ten, he decided to take a pause. He was hot, sweaty, tired. He didn’t mind the hot and sweaty part – all those baths they forced him to take made him feel cleaner than a healthy man should be, and it grossed him out a bit. Not, it was the tired part that was bothering him. He used to do three series of ten each day, without pause.

Kristoff laid on his bed to rest a bit. His big, comfy, sweet bed. With good-smelling sheets. And soft pillows…

“You have a pillow on your belly already…” a voice whispered in his mind.

He got up once more to look at himself in the mirror again.

His belly wasn’t so big. It was just wider and thicker. If he kept his clothes on, no one could tell the difference. He still looked buff and muscular, and that’s all he needed.

“Yeah… your chest may be a bit bigger and your stomach more bloated, but you can still close your belt.”

To make sure, he got out of the closet his old ice harvester suit. He had stopped wearing it after setting in the castle – the place being very warm, the suit, with its lining of fur, kept making him too hot – and not in the good sense of the term.

He put it on and looked at his reflection.

“Yeah. No difference whatsoever. Don’t worry. It’s just some… some sympathy weight, as they say. Nothing to worry about.”

He took a new look at his sleigh, outside. He felt a bit guilty not using it – but, at the same time, he thought about what happened to his old one, right after he finished paying for it, and it was enough to cool him down.

“No, I won’t take that risk. This beauty will stay here. I’ll get out another day. Another, safer day.”

And thus Kristoff stayed indoor, enjoying the royalty’s life.

He did not worry one bit about his stomach getting bigger. He didn’t realize that his stomach expanding meant that he would get hungrier and be able to eat more food, which would only expand his stomach even more, leading him into a vicious circle of feasting and fattening. Kristoff had spent most of his life with trolls and reindeers, who had very different eating habits and seasonal diets than humans, resulting in him lacking a knowledge about how his body worked.

That’s why he went on gulping down fish, cream or mutton soup, wolfing down meatballs, meatcakes and beef with mustard, gobbling up liver pâtés, salted offal and braised pheasants, putting cheese on his buttered bread with a bit of cream on top, sometimes devouring entire roasted pigs! However, he couldn’t bring himself to eat moose – the cooks proposed some to him, many times, but it reminded him too much of Sven and made him really uncomfortable.

But what Kristoff fell for the most, out of everything that came out of the royal kitchen, were the pastries. The cakes. The desserts. As a child, he never knew the delightful bliss of eating sweets or biting into candies. So, when he discovered those at the palace, he went full sugar-crazy. He kept asking for more. More cherry pies, more apple pies, more rhubarb pies! More strawberry tarts, more bilberry tarts! More raspberry waffles, more cloudberry cakes! More meringue, more cardamom, more whipped cream! The cooks were happy to oblige.

Of course, sometimes he felt guilty. Guilty for not taking the sleigh out of the castle like he promised. Guilty for not supervising the workers at the ice harvest. Guilty for not getting out as much he used to, and for not being active anymore.

But he quickly found out that fried food was an excellent way to wipe your guilt out of your mind. With the amount of butter Arendelle produced, they tended to fry everything they could put their hands upon: onions, fishes, sausages… And fried sausages soon became Kristoff’s favorites. With a bit of gravy.

Of course, like we said earlier, all of this was a vicious circle of feasting and fattening. Kristoff’s belly started to get rounder and more prominent, while his pectorals grew and puffed out and his arms got flabby and tubby. But the young man never noticed how chubby he was actually getting. Partly because of his own lack of interest in his appearance, and disdain for mirrors, and partly because of Anna. She mentioned to the servants that Kristoff was starting to fill out his clothes, and that it wouldn’t be a good thing for him to stress over such little things. As a result, the servants started to offer the prince-to-be larger clothes, more fitting for his new castle-life-size, and Kristoff gladly accepted them, not thinking much about it. After all, royals must get new clothes every week, right? That’s how rich people did it.

There was nothing weird with that.

Months went by, and soon it was time to celebrate Kristoff’s first year at the castle.

Kristoff walked towards Elsa. He was munching on an Arendelle flute – a local candy he particularly enjoyed. It was a chocolate bar shaped like a small chain of mountains, filled with butter, biscuit, hazelnuts and caramel. He was mad about them, eating nearly one per hour. Absolutely delicious.

Kristoff had a little friendly chat with the young queen, nothing out of the ordinary. Except maybe for some… allusions Elsa kept making.

For example, how she called him “big guy”. Usually she nicknamed him “reindeer prince”. Or when she said he should lay down a bit on the Arendelle flute, “You know what they say. You are what you eat, and it shows that you’re snacking on little mountains”. Later, she even compared him to a “full-grown snowman”. Kristoff tried to imagine a human-sized Olaf and wondered why he would ever look like him.

Well, that’s until he later saw some kids in the court make a snowman. An actual, traditional snowball. A big, round, white snowman.

Tortured by the most horrific doubts, he rushed to his room, gulping what was left of the Arendelle flute, and got rid of his clothes before standing in front of the mirror.

His worst fear had come true.

He was fat.

And not just pleasantly plum, like before, no. He was really fat and pale. Just like a snowman.

His belly was a big round ball. His chest was all puffy, and falling down on his gut. His behind was enormous, his thighs double the size of what they used to be, his arms all chunky – even his face was round now, with two bloated cheeks! And was that a double chin? It was! He had a big, round, snowman face!

“But… I don’t feel different… I don’t feel heavier!” Kristoff lamented. “And my clothes still fit me perfectly!”

Well… the clothes of the castle still fitted him perfectly, he thought. But what about his original clothes? His ice-harvesting suit?

Kristoff took it out of the closet and tried to get in the pants.

It wasn’t easy. They were tight. Tight around everything! Around his calves, around his thighs, around his behind… He couldn’t bend over, out of fear of making the seams explode.

“Well, I may have gained a bit of weight, alright… But it’s not that much…”

He then put the sweater on. It was as tight as the pants. He couldn’t even make it past his belly button! Not wanting to admit his defeat so fast, Kristoff sucked his gut in, and took his belt. He tied it around his now-slimmed-down-but-still-flabby abdomen, hoping that it would help to hold his gut in. He then put the tunic and looked at himself in the mirror.

“See? Not bad. Yeah, your shoulders are puffier, and your arms bigger, and your face rounder… and maybe you have a hard time moving in your clothes but… you’re not as fat as you think!”

That’s when he made the mistake of releasing his gut. He had lost the habit of using his abdominal muscles – he couldn’t hold it back anymore. When he let it out, the beast went wild. His belt snapped, his tunic ripped off and his sweater was pulled back all the way to his stomach, revealing his belly-button once more.

Kristoff let out a whimper as he had to face the hard truth.

He was as big as a whale.

“You knew the whole time?”

“Well… yes. It was a bit hard to miss.” Anna answered.

“But then, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What should I have told you? You put on a little weight, and what? No big deal! And no, that wasn’t a joke at your expense. What I mean is… there’s a lot of tubby guys in Arendelle. It’s not something out of the ordinary. Everybody gain some pounds in winter… it’s their winter weight.”

“I am the double of my original weight! That’s not just a few winter pounds! Have you seen just how much I eat per day? I paid attention recently, you know, and guess what I realized? I eat more than anyone in this castle. Much more than you, than Elsa, than Sven, than Olaf – well it doesn’t count because he doesn’t eat – but still! I’m the biggest eater in this castle! I’m the one walking around, snacking on fried sausages like if they were carrots!”

Anna didn’t know what to answer.

“Hey… wait a minute.” Kristoff whispered. “I get it, now… That’s why I always had clothes that were fitting me perfectly, when I should have busted out of them! It was you! You kept replacing them!”

“Well, I didn’t want you to feel bad, or stressed. You said it yourself, you feared you wouldn’t fit in! And again, it’s not a joke on the fact you can’t fit in your old suit anymore. I just… I didn’t want to destroy your self-confidence. And the cook was so happy that you finally ate his meals and…”

“The cook? It was all about the cook?”

“No, not at all!”

Anna sighed.

“You were happy. For once, you stopped caring about what other people thought. You weren’t anxious anymore about what fork to use. You weren’t fearful of the other’s judgement. You weren’t hiding yourself in your shell. You were outgoing, funny, happy, always smiling… and I liked that. And I wanted to keep it that way.”

Kristoff sat on a chair. Anna sat right next to him and hugged his big frame.

“You don’t have to be ashamed of your look, or your weight.” she whispered in his ear. “It’s just how you are. And you are still strong, and cute, and I still love you. You’re still the same Kristoff.”

“No. You’re wrong on one thing, and that’s what bothers me the most. I’m not strong anymore. I’m lazy. Sluggish. Weak. This morning, I was wondering “Hey, shouldn’t I stay in the castle today? It’s a bit cold outside.” Do you realize what that means, Anna? Me, who spent my whole life in the snow, the mountains and the winter, me, for who ice was the purpose of existence… I feared that it would be a little cold outside! I’m not me anymore, Anna. I want to get back to my old self.”

Anna bowed her head.

“I understand.”

“Thanks.”

He kissed her on the forehead while stroking her hair.

“Alright. Then I’ll have to do some exercises. Ask the cooks to cut down on the butter. And the bread. And the cheese. But leave the pastries. One – or two – at each meal isn’t what’s going to make me fatter.”

First step of the “From Fatstoff to Fitstoff” program: get a new ice-harvesting suit. Kristoff went to buy one at Oaken’s place. He nearly died of humiliation when Oaken offered him one of his own suits, from when he was younger. Even worse, it fitted him perfectly.

Second step: Ice-harvest again. The good, old fashioned way, with big saws and giant tongs. Kristoff went to work with the guys of his team at least three times a week. He felt himself reliving, adrenaline rushing through his blood.

Third step: Races with Sven. Running was good for him. Of course, he failed every time – but at least, he was moving and sweating.

Talking of sweating, fourth step: spend time in Oaken’s sauna. Oaken’s family making remarks about Kristoff’s size and the children slapping hard his “jelly-belly”, asking if he was pregnant, was quite a trial on its own, but he endured it as the penance he rightfully earned for his gluttony.

Fifth step: stop eating those damned Arendelle flutes!

“Kristoff is back! Kristoff is back!”

The trolls all rushed towards him to welcome the boy back, taking his clothes off to wash them, pressing him with questions about his life in the castle.

��And you’ve grown quite well!”

“Yeah, you’re becoming more and more like a troll now!”

“All big!”

“And all round!”

“Yes, that’s one heavy, heavy Kristoff!” they all sang in a choir.

Kristoff didn’t mind their playful teasing. Besides, he knew very well that he had lost quite a weight. His chest, while still saggy, was now smaller. Same thing for his flabby arms. His face wasn’t round anymore, and he had lost the double chin (even though his cheeks were still a bit puffy). His belly had deflated – goodbye, ball gut – even though he still had to work on the lard that was hanging over his belt. And his butt was back to a roughly normal size.

He was even floating in his new ice-harvester suit! If this went on, he would have to get it fixed, or buy a new one!

He was fully confident that he would go back to his usual silhouette in no time.

He shouldn’t have been so confident.

It happened the day of his birthday.

“Tadaaa!”

Kristoff couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of him, the biggest, largest, longest table he had ever seen. And on it… food. Lots and lots and lots of food. Piles of fishes, entire roasted menageries, mountains of cheese and bread, a sea of soup, a forest of pastries… And, in front of him, an enormous ice-cream cake with “Happy birthday Kristoff!” written on top.

“Where are the other guests?”

“It’s all for you, Kristoff!”

“But… but I can’t eat all of that!”

“You don’t have to, silly! But feel free to do if your gut can handle it.”

Anna sat beside him and took a slice of cake.

“It’s just that… I saw how hard you worked.” she said. “You lost so much weight, and you’re so often out there, and you restrain yourself at each meal… Don’t lie to me. I see how you devour the cheese with your eyes at lunch. Even yesterday you were drooling just by looking at my loaf of bread! And I know you’re dying to bite again in an Arendelle flute.”

The mere mention of the candy made Kristoff’s stomach swirl and rumble in hunger.

“But today is your birthday. Your day. Go on, it’s all for you! Go ahead, it’s your gift! You deserve a treat after all, for all your hard work.”

Kristoff hesitated, but the glorious glow of all the butter, the fat, the frying and the oil finally broke him. He had been dieting for too long and Anna was right, he could offer himself a little treat.

He started with the cake. Then he went on with the seafood soups, the creamy soups, the meaty soups… followed by the mashed potatoes, carrots purée, raw carrots, salads, beetroots, some lingonberries, stewed peas with bacon, boiled cabbage with potatoes… he gulped some fruit juices, before finishing the berries and attacking the meat. Big, salty, heavy meat. With a lot of mustard.

After finishing the roe’s liver, the boiled lamb, the braised pheasant, the roasted sheep and the brawn, Kristoff laid back on his chair, his shirt raised on his prominent abdomen, his big hands rubbing his distended stomach. He let out a burp that resonated throughout the empty dining room.

“Excuse me…”

“No offense taken.” Anna replied.

“I never ate so much before… I think I’m full. I don’t have room for more.”

“What do you mean? You can’t end now! There’s still the fishes, and the cheese, and the biscuits, and…”

“I don’t think I can… my gut won’t…” Kristoff whispered before letting out another, smaller burp.

Anna put a hand on Kristoff’s belly and started rubbing. Strangely, it made his cheeks and his ears feel hot.

“Come on, I’m sure you can do that… A big guy like you, afraid by a little meal? Plus, if you finish the rest… there’s a bunch of Arendelle flutes waiting for you.”

“Many?”

“Many.”

Kristoff looked at Anna, then at the half-emptied table. He sighed.

“Well, if I have to… Damn, what couldn’t I do for some Arendelle flutes… Pass me the gravy, would you?”

He poured it straight in his mouth, to help him wash down everything he had already eaten. He burped once more and attacked the fishes.

Poached, fried or braised, there was probably all of the inhabitants of the sea on the table. The trout and the cod, the halibut and the haddock, along with crabs and cockles. Sometimes, Anna would help him out, or by rubbing and massaging his belly or by handing the plates that were too far away – his now bloated and rock-hard belly making it harder for him to bend over the table.

Then, it was the turn of the five different cheese wheels, before the biscuits and cookies, with a bit of milk. He gulped the other, smaller birthday cakes, and rinsed his mouth with a bottle of apple cider.

Now, only the Arendelle flutes were left, several boxes of them.

Kristoff was panting, his head completely thrown back, his forehead sweaty. He wasn’t speaking, merely letting out small burps from time to time.

“If you can’t take the Arendelle flutes, it’s okay…” Anna said. “I can put them away for you. You’ll eat them tomorrow. We don’t want you to be sick.”

But Kristoff stopped her and gestured with his hands “Leave them here. I didn’t stuff myself with all of that just for missing the Arendelle flutes. Gosh, look at me, I’m like a Christmas goose.”

Yes, Kristoff’s hands were quite expressive.

Anna giggled and kissed him on the cheek, staying by his side as he slowly grabbed the first box of Arendelle flutes.

He purred when the sweet chocolate mountains melted on his tongue.

The following day, Kristoff couldn’t fit into his ice-harvesting suit. And he couldn’t fit into his latest royal garment. In fact, he couldn’t fit into any of his clothes! He spent several hours trying to find what to wear, only to result in a concert of pants ripping, belt snapping and button popping. Eventually, the royal tailor had to come to his room to make a new outfit for him on the spot.

And, as he stood in front of the mirror while a wide-eyed tailor took his measurements, Kristoff took a good look at himself.

He was bigger. Bigger than before he started to lose weight. Just so… big.

His belly was big. Wide, round, enormous, hanging in front of him like an enormous cauldron of flesh.

His chest was big, wide and large, falling into rolls of lard on his flanks, with fleshy nipples the size of mushroom caps.

His legs were big, his jumbo thighs pressed against each other, continuously rubbing – he had to outspread his feet so that his skin wouldn’t caught fire.

His hips were rolls of fat, his arms looked like over-stuffed sausages, and his behind – well, it was better not to talk about it. And his face! With these round, overgrown cheeks that fell on the side of his face like pork jowls, and this double chin that dropped from under his jaw like a little goiter, and his fat, bloated neck that drowned into a big bulge of meat…

He was all flesh and fat, and rolls and curves, bloated and overstuffed, with lots of lard and lots of gut. Fattened up like a hog for the winter.

And, strangely, he kind of liked it.

Yesterday. The banquet. The feast. Eating to the brim, until he was ready to burst, savors and flavors dancing on his tongue while his beautiful fiancée rubbed his belly and whispered in his ear… It was a weird… new… pleasing experience. Yes, it was a pleasure he had only rarely felt before, and usually in the middle of the woods, during long, lonely, cold, wintery nights.

And, looking at his reflection, he didn’t felt the same reluctance as before. He was even bigger, fatter and grotesque, yes, but he did not felt weak or sluggish. He felt strong, full of energy, ready to walk all the way to the mountain and harvest all of its ice. He didn’t know that it was mostly all of the sugar he had eaten the past day that was still affecting his body.

But, even outside of that, something, deep down, told him that this shape was a good shape. The instinct he had grown living in forests filled with woods. The inner beast he had opened himself to in order to speak to Sven. The wild man that was living in his heart. They were all pointing out how fat was useful to keep warm in the winter, and a good way to last for several days without eating, and a natural armor to prevent major wounds. They all said “You’re the perfect surviving machine. You’re the best, Kristoff, the coolest guy in the woods. You’re a super-man, baby.”

Kristoff, feeling for once proud of his fatness, ordered a servant to bring him both a fried sausage and an ice-cream. Hell, he even asked him to put the sausage inside the ice-cream.

“Let yourself go, let yourself go…” he sang. “Can’t hold back your gut anymore… let yourself go, let yourself go… Eating never bothered me anyway.”

#weight gain #man #overweight #fat #fiction #commission #weight gain story #my writing #my work

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annas-hair-donut · 4 months

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My Favorite 2023 Fanfics

Instead of posting a master list of the fics I published in 2023, I'm just going to give you some of my favorites.

Knock on Wood (Kristanna, T)

“So, like, I’m not really a superstitious guy or anything, you know? But I saw this girl, right, and I’m about to ask her to dance.” He strummed a few times before stopping the strings with his hand and knocking three times on his guitar. “I don’t know, I figure every little bit helps. Couldn't hurt anyway.” A few people clapped and whistled as he strummed the opening to a song Anna hadn’t heard before. Then he smiled. “Maybe y’all can 'Knock on Wood' for me, too.”

I wrote this one for the FHWM Friday the 13th event. It was really fun because I got to set it in a time and place that is near and dear to my heart and I haven't seen many similar AUs. It's also a song fic, and I just had so much fun with it.

Pretty Please (Kristanna, E)

“Show me how bad you want it, Kristoff. Show me how bad you want me to spank you.” “You think I only want to sink my tongue into your $!@# so you’ll spank me?” His smile made her heart flutter as much as his words, but she tested him anyway. “Pretty men say pretty please.’” “You think I’m pretty?” he asked, each word punctuated by a sloppy, wet kiss on her thigh, "when I wear my lace panties?" When she didn't answer, he looked at her with lifted brows and puppy dog eyes. She cupped his cheeks and said, “You're not pretty, Kristoff; you're very pretty."

I wrote this one for the BDSM Exchange. It's not for everyone, but it's probably my favorite fic I've ever written (of all time).

Waffle Waltz (Kristanna, T)

Anna travels to Tromsø, Norway to attend her sister Elsa's wedding, and ends up renting a room with Bulda and her grumpy and resentful son Kristoff, who is the king of waffles. 1. Waffle, Noun: (1) A soft indented cake cooked in waffle iron; (2) Empty or pretentious words 2. Waffle, Verb: (1) Equivocate, vacillate; (2) To blather

This was for the Candy Hearts Exchange. It involved a ton of research and drew on my own knowledge of/experience with folk music and dance, and I consider it to be one of the best (quality-wise) fics I've ever written. I also really love the fun relationship between Anna & Hans.

Hey, Little Girl (Kristanna, E)

Loner Kristoff gets hired by cheerleader Anna’s parents to teach her how to drive because they’ve lost all patience with her. She isn’t what he expects, though, and when he realizes the feelings he’s been harboring for years are reciprocated, he lets down his guard. Then one thing leads to another... and quite possibly the hugest mistake of their lives.

This started as a driver's ed lesson and ended with a prom for Kristanna School Days. In between, I wrote Kristoff probably the most conflicted and tormented I've ever written him (other than Sophisticated Grace). And it was all set to songs by the Ramones! It really has it all, fluff, angst, high school drama, teen pregnancy, first times. Also some of the OCs were really cool.

The Chaise (Gaston x Adam, E)

Adam debates buying a small chaise longue at his local antique shop until he finds out it comes with an extra large delivery man.

I wrote this for my a friend, and TBH I'm still completely tickled by it. Adam seduced Gaston through flattery and it was just so much fun to write!

The Moment I Bit My Lip (Kristanna, E)

Anna shivered as she packed her suitcase. It was winter, the furnace was broken, and they’d run out of firewood. And Kristoff had run out of time. Based on "Love Me Harder" by Ariana Grande ft. The Weeknd

This was a reader request. It was a huge challenge because I tend to write more female-dominant stuff and the song lyrics screamed Kristanna, but at the same time didn't really fit with the kinds of things I usually write. So I had to get a little creative and I absolutely love that. Anyway, I came up with one of the coolest AUs I've written and I absolutely adore this piece.

Boom, Clap! (Kristanna, E)

A sharp pain sears across Kristoff’s face from the force of Anna’s hand slapping him to the present. Stars twinkle just inside his field of vision as he rubs his cheek, and his heart beats faster in excitement. He hasn’t felt this good in years. Until an irate voice says, “What the fuck?” Anna stands in front of him, angrier than ever, and he smiles a little more. “You think that’s funny?” she asks. The correct answer is no, of course, but the right answer is that he’s elated. He looks down to hide the smile he couldn’t make go away. That’s when he sees his brace and remembers his injured leg. The only pain he feels, though, is on his cheek. “I had it handled,” she says and shows him the red rhinestone-encrusted mace attached to her keychain, which her thumb sits on top of. He grins, and says, more bravely than he would have had he not been floating on Cloud 9, “Or you could just slap me again.” Her red lips slowly curve into a cat-like smile. She folds her arms and coolly leans against the wall. Her eyes glitter with mischief, and she purrs, “Well, now you’ve got my attention.”

I wrote this for Smut Week, but it's so much bigger than that. It was a monumental task writing about Kristoff, a war-injured vet, and Anna, the woman that uses pain to take away his pain, but so rewarding as their relationship turned into something so much bigger than h/c for them. It's two people bringing out the absolute best in each other, Kristoff healing in a way he never thought he could, and discovering that he was worthy of giving and accepting love. It's one of the most meaningful things I've written.

Rain Check (Kristanna, E)

Newly divorced Anna goes for a walk to work off some pent-up energy, but gets derailed by rain, a good Samaritan’s garage, and some really great D.

Another Smut Week fic, a follow-up to a cute little one-shot I wrote for myself last year (Future's So Bright, T) and wanted more of. I really love the way Anna and KB love each other. And Anna really goes for what she wants, but ultimately chooses herself and what she needs. I like this AU so much that I did a follow-up fic (Here Comes the Sun, E) and I'm also planning a 30+ multi-chap fic tentatively titled "And If I Change My Mind" to be published hopefully in the next few months.

Valentine Bear (Rydoff, T)

Kristoff gets some unexpected help setting up the Peeps Valentine's Day display at Weselton's Grocery Store when Anna, the assistant manager--and Kristoff's best friend--assigns Ryder to assist. Will Anna's Cupid's arrow strike Kristoff's heart? Or will it knock him down, along with his display?

I had this idea of Kristoff playing with Peeps and using his fake voice to talk for them. Who else talks for Peeps? Ryder of course! It's such a fun concept and I loved writing for them so much that I wrote a short multi-chap sequel (Mint Jelly and Onion Jam). Oh, and I got to explore Anna & Kristoff as adorable best friends and Anna/Hans (Alive and Burning Brighter), also a first!

Behind Adjoined Doors (Kristanna, E)

After seeing her recently engaged ex at her cousin's wedding, Anna sneaks through the adjoining door of her hotel room to have meaningless sex with Kristoff - because it’s not possible to fall for someone you can’t stand, right?

I wrote this one for Smut Week and it still tickles me. Cocky Kristoff is just so... he's a bro. Sort of. At least it seems like he is. And Anna has to open her eyes (and her legs) to see the diamond in the rough hiding right next door.

What's up for 2023? I'm working on a Kristanna Valentine's Day fic (short multi-chap), finishing up All Tied Up and Head Over Feet. Chugging along with The Refugees, and my new upcoming long fic "And If I Change My Mind," set in the Bandana AU.

#frozen #kristanna #master fic list

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