#iduna mask

[snowflaketale12]

Arendelle Royal Family picnic near Sommerhus edits

Made an edit to replicate the 'Arendelle Royal Family picnic near Sommerhus' painting that is hanging at EPCOT and Fantasy Springs in Tokyo DisneySea 💕 I found it heartwarming when I looked at the picture, which inspired me to create this edit 😁

For anyone who doesn't know, Agnarr and Iduna brought Anna and Elsa to Sommerhus annually during the summer (before the incident, of course). Royal Sommerhus was built at EPCOT in 2016, and it was later adapted in a book named 'Elsa's Icy Rescue' in 2020. (Thanks to my friend, Winter, for the info! 😁) "Sommerhus is a quaint cottage in a small village just outside the Arendelle forest." - From 'Elsa's Icy Rescue'.

It was soooooooo hard to edit. I had to mask each of the elements like the people, the food, the basket, and the flowers, as well as the Sommerhus in the background. It was also very hard to color grade; I tried to make it as orange as possible 😂

Anyway, I did my best on everything. It's not perfect, but I'm satisfied with it now 😆

I made horizontal version too:

And with photo frame:

[true--north]

Your Iduna headcanons? 🍁

🍁 It kind of contradicts Dangerous Secrets, but I like to think that she and Agnarr got to know each other, that the deleted scenes happened, Agnarr just forgot it because he hit his head.

🍁 Iduna seems to have some connection with the Air. Not like Elsa with the Water, but not like any other member of the Northuldra tribe. She was special since the beginning.

🍁 She was torn between two places. She loved Arendelle and Agnarr, but she missed the Forest.

🍁 I headcanon that there was a family, "our oldest family" of shamans, leaders and healers, and it was foretold that the Fifth Spirit would come from it. It's Iduna's family. Maybe some might think that Iduna herself was going to become the Spirit because Gale made her her favourite.

🍁 She loved singing but was afraid that Agnarr could recognize the voice.

🍁 It was love from the first sight, first a childish philia, later something other.

🍁 Iduna's hair was so lush and free that she needed a special balm to make it into an Arendellian hairstyle. Frozen has a thing for hair symbolism, does it?

🍁 Iduna was spending so many times in the library and in the secret room, she traveled to some merchants and forgotten book stores to find some medieval manuscripts and notes about Nordic folklore and legends.

🍁 Iduna didn't know for sure that her people were not to blame but she wanted peace and reconciliation.

🍁 She agreed with Agnarr about the isolation because she did not know another way. Magic of Nature was celebrated back then among her people but here in Elsa, she saw something other, too powerful magic of ice; she saw that Elsa was afraid of it.

🍁 She considered Johan for a moment when Agnarr seemed to be unreachable, but her love to the latter was too strong to settle with another.

🍁 Iduna would have given birth to the gifted child even if she married someone else.

🍁 In the end, she blamed herself (Elsa will inherit it).

🍁 Anna inherited her love to romance books and balls.

🍁 All windmills of Arendelle were made by Iduna.

🍁 Iduna thought about Lord Peterssen as of her foster father.

🍁 Iduna loved needlework and knitting, she embroidered her purple dress by herself.

🍁 There were so many moments when Iduna wanted to tell Agnarr about everything, but there were also many moments when she wanted to forget about her past.

🍁 The first year after the wedding, they built their estate in the mountains, it was Iduna's idea to be closer to Nature.

🍁 When Iduna became queen, she took over the guardianship of the Orphanage and improved the conditions here.

🍁 She also opened a public children library.

🍁 Iduna studied better than Agnarr. Their teachers loved her.

🍁 She often persuaded him to sneak out the castle to go for a walk or buy something in the town (chocolate), whereas without her Agnarr was indecisive and would have obediently sat behind closed gates.

🍁 The other children at the Orphanage might be jealous that she was chosen for the castle but Iduna knew why it was that: because the Regent knew that she was the Northuldra.

🍁 Iduna, describing Agnarr her supposedly lost behind the mist wall parents, told real stories about Yelana, the Leader and her mother.

🍁 She told Elsa and Anna many stories of Northuldra, about giants, huldras, the heavenly elk and the secret white river. The girls thought she had composed them herself.

🍁 There was at least one case when Agnarr or the sisters got sick, and Iduna treated them with herbs according to the Northuldra recipe, which she remembered.

🍁 Iduna loved to tease Agnarr and make little pranks to see his smile, because the prince was usually sad and quiet.

🍁 When the masquerade ball was held in Arendelle, she recognized him even in a mask.

🍁 Iduna felt weird when he was talking about his mysterious lovely savior, so every time she tried to distract him.

🍁 Their last days on the ship(I call it "The royal crocus") were the calmest and clearest: finally no more secrets between them. They were talking a lot to get to know each other once again.

[lifehunted]

IDUNA "HALLIBELL" LEONTE // DEATH MAIDEN he/him. int build prince of death's staff / deathbed dress

Keziah's best friend, who was ultimately forced to stay back in the Lands Between despite tarnishment due to his family. For a time he lived disguised as a finger maiden, feigning grace. When Keziah returned he was only all too eager to assign himself as the other man's maiden despite the falsehoods.

Where Keziah split off to pursue Ranni's plight, Hallibell dove to seek the death mark from her husk. Despite the natural misgivings with Fia's plot and station, he ends up enamored enough with death to utilize its power.

Eventually, both he and Keziah learn of the purpose for maidens as kindling; the latter is unwilling to watch his dear friend die, and despite a willingness for sacrifice, Hallibell would much rather not burn either. The two then turn to drastic measures to kidnap the worst individual they know- White Mask Varre- and after an arduous trek, murder him instead.

Hallibell willingly continues to serve as Keziah's confidant, right-hand man, and bodyguard.

[mylove-iv]

⠀𐔌 . ⋮ in your arms .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ʚ fierce deity x fem, goddess! reader ɞ

synopsis: bound to your duties as deities, you would have never imagined that it would be the very thing that would have torn you from your lover.

genres: angst, romance.

content warnings: violence, indirect mentions of war.

word count: 604 words.

author's note: the fierce deity's true name is 'Agnarr' in this fic while reader is called 'Iduna' but y/n is her true name.

‎‧₊ ─ masterlist .ᐟ ༘

You’re thrown back harshly causing the wind to leave your lungs, a dull ache spreading through your back.

The dust settles and Agnarr walks calmly to you, face void of emotion and you feel your heart tug painfully.

He is no longer the Agnarr you once knew—yours—and instead who stands before you is the man known to many as the Fierce Deity.

"Iduna," The timbre of his voice reverberates through your ears and your name upon his lips lack his usual warmth and endearment. "There is no love in war."

Your bottom lip trembles, eyes glossing over with unshed tears as you heave a heavy breath. His pale eyes trace your figure as you stand shakily, stepping into his space.

Raising a shaky hand to cup his cheek, Agnarr allows you to as his body melds against yours, warmth mingling as his hands fall to your waist automatically, his fingers gentle against your skin despite the rage burning in his eyes

"Agnarr, come back to me please." You murmur brokenly, your thumb gently caressing the red marks of his cheek.

He and you stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything

No reply graces your ears as his grip gently tightens and you know you've reached a point of no return.

"Then so be it." It's soft, pleading and he feels his heart catch, his anger and thirst for blood waning.

But it flares once more, smoldering embers of rage burning furiously as your eyes begin to glow, a familiar hue to that of your eyes shining around him.

He realizes it too late.

He's stepped into your sealing circle.

You bite your lip, drawing forth godly ichor to drip from your lip before you're pulling his lips against yours.

The familiarity of your lips against his forces Agnarr to pause momentarily, his body melting against yours automatically like all the times it's done before.

A bitter ache spreads throughout his chest.

A small part of him wishes he had killed you all those nights ago, on that fated and cursed night.

Yet he knows, he wouldn't have it any other way.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

Your glow intensifies and Agnarr feels his physical body burning.

It's searingly painful with how it wraps around him gently like how you would embrace him so lovingly before the war broke out.

Agnarr surrenders himself to your light, having been bested by the woman he loves and he allows himself to relish your embrace for the very last time.

Your lips are soft against his, painfully so, as he holds you a bit tighter. He feels your tears roll down your cheeks as his heart aches with longing.

"Agnarr, I love you so much more than you know." You whisper softly, kissing him harder, more desperately, before you're both engulfed in a dazzling light of gold.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

Your eyes fly open and you're immediately hit with a wave of exhaustion, but you pay no mind to it as your heart aches.

You feel empty with his absence and you begin to cry, "What have I done?"

They're uncontrollable, your tears, as you shout to the world with agony at the loss of your lover.

Fate was cruel and order was unkind, the punishment his and the blame your own.

You weep and the world acts as the audience of your tragedy.

"Forgive me, Agnarr," You sob. "Forgive me for being so blind."

Your admission is fill with pain, a tragic melancholy engulfing your heart as you clutch a wooden mask, its blue and red markings so painfully familiar.

© 2024 𝐌𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐈𝐕. do not copy, repost, share, or translate any of my works to tiktok, instagram, and/or any other websites/platforms.

[agduna-central]

The Iduna mask which i won at #winitwednesday from @marimancusi arrived today. I used my cardboard cutout standup from Anna to make a photo ;-)

[marimancusi]

Dangerous Secrets Win it Wednesday Winner!

Congratulations to this week’s Win it Wednesday winner: @agduna-central!! You have won the Iduna face mask, created by DreamWardrobeShop on Etsy! Perfect for staying safe Arendellian style when you go off into the unknown!! (Sorry, couldn’t help it! haha)  

DM me for details on how to claim your prize!! 

For those of you who didn’t win, there will be another Win it Wednesday next week!

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #2: Empty Space

Words:  ca. 7,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no Content: underage drinking and smoking, some recreational drug use Song: Empty Space by The Story So Far

I spent the plane ride sick with nerves. Getting ready had taken hours. Doing my hair, putting on make-up then wiping it all off again, agonising over my outfit. How is a seventeen-year-old supposed to prepare to meet their mother and sister for the first time? None of us had really planned this trip, but since I was going to be passing through their city, it seemed only natural. Nevertheless, I was a wreck.

They took me out to dinner between my flights. I was on my way back from one of those model United Nations conferences, where we all pretend to be a country and debate international politics. I saw their eyes glaze over when I tried to explain that not only would it look great on scholarship applications, but I actually enjoyed such a thing. I wasn’t sure what exactly they were thinking, but I sensed they weren’t impressed.

“So, uh,” Iduna laughed nervously, “do you like football?”

I lied and said I did.

Dinner passed in awkward stop-starting conversation. I felt suddenly naked, as if I didn’t know who I was supposed to be to these people. As if my true self would most certainly disappoint them, but all the masks I’d grown accustomed to wearing weren’t quite right either.

My attention fell on Anna. I was fixated. Mesmerised by every detail, the freckles, the turned-up nose, eyes just a shade greener than my own. A stranger, yet familiar in a way I couldn’t articulate. I wanted to know everything about her. But every time I asked her a question, Steve interrupted.

Oh, Steve. My mother’s husband was a short, balding guy in a football shirt who laughed at his own jokes and made plenty at my expense. Mainly implying that their crass, working-class ways would offend my posh sensibilities. As though I was raised in a palace or something. It felt rude to correct him, so I just laughed along, feeling as if I’d done something wrong.

“I hope you don’t mind riding in our little shit-box,” he said as we piled into the car.

I wasn’t really listening by that point. Too busy staring at Anna. Crushed that the night was over already, that I had to leave her. Wanting to say something more, but for the life of me unable to think what. She turned to me, and when our eyes met, we both looked away, embarrassed.

When we arrived back at the airport, her hand brushed over mine just as I was about to get out. Warm and soft and comforting. “Bye, Elsa,” she said. “Come back soon.”

She filled my thoughts as my second plane pierced the black sky, and I wondered what she was doing down on the ground, in that never-ending expanse of a city grid. What hopes and dreams and secrets lay behind those big green eyes, and would I ever be privileged to be their keeper? My heart sank as I descended into my dreary hometown. Already, I missed her.

…..

I tried not to think about Anna, because it caused such a gnawing in my chest. Instead, I threw myself into everything to pass the time until I was back there in the big city. Student council, orchestra, chess club, prefect duties. My days were filled with class, extra-curriculars, volunteering, and my nights with homework and extra credit assignments. And when all the work was done, Dad slept and the world went quiet, I crept outside to indulge in my one and only vice. A cigarette.

It was always freezing outside, but I was distracted by the wide black sky with the milky way snaking across the middle, old as time.

I didn’t know back then how much I would miss those stars once I moved to the city. It’s true what they say, that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. You also don’t know what you’ve been missing until you get it back. Sometimes that can hurt even more.

But I couldn’t change the past. Couldn’t make time go faster. All I could do was wait, and love her from a distance.

…..

  It was summer when I returned. The sky was sweltering, a bubble of humidity, and the plane struggled through it onto the sizzling tarmac. I was drenched in sweat by the time I got to the car, and embarrassed for Anna to see - or rather, smell - me like that. I wasn’t acclimatised to proper mainland summers yet. I’m a child of ice and snow. Dark, unforgiving winters and rugged mountains. That’s where I felt at home. Not like them. They were a saltwater family of sunburnt shoulders and long summer days.

“Already on the good side of the city,” Steve laughed as we drove through leafy suburbia, past tidy two-story houses, new cars, old schools with elaborate crests and vine-coated heritage buildings, much like my own back home. But I wasn’t back home.

I was so, so far from everything familiar and safe. The realisation hit me with a stomach-churning clarity. I guess that’s why they call it home-sickness.

Anna reached out and touched my hand again, as if reading my mind. And for a moment, I was home.

Finally, we arrived at the university. Hundreds of eighteen-year-olds milled around with nervous excitement, exploring the courtyards, the halls and common rooms where kitschy social events were advertised on flyers tacked to notice boards: themed parties, beach trips, pub-crawls and so on. Laughter and chatter spilled through open doors where groups congregated, many with bags of wine and bottles of beer, somehow already in their little cliques that I knew, instinctively, would not hold a space for me.

“What have you got in here?” Steve grunted, “A whole library or something?”

Again, I felt like I’d done something wrong as they lugged my bags up the stairs, huffing and puffing as though it was mandatory community service. Only Anna had a smile on her face. She was the last one left standing in the claustrophobic off-white cinder-block room, with its popcorn ceiling and tiny bed. She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced over her shoulder, “Well, I guess I’d better go. Mum and Dad wanna get back in time to watch the football.”

Well, that explained the rush.

“But you should come visit us on the weekend! I’ll show you around the west side. It’s not as scary as people say. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, anyway.”

I lacked the frame of reference to be scared of any particular neighbourhoods. But her words caused a bubbling warmth in my chest, regardless, and I lost my voice.

She peeked into the suitcase Steve had been complaining about just before, and said, “I like your books.”

Then, after a tragically short hug, she was gone.

  …..

  University was lonely. Academically, it was fine, of course. Dad called me once a week at six pm on a Sunday, in that regimented way of his. My scholarships ensured I was never hungry or stressed about money. I bought a new wardrobe, one Dad would never have approved of. Low cut, sparkly dresses that hugged my waist and showed off my cleavage. High heels. I started wearing my hair down. I felt grown up and sexy and free.

And impossibly alone.

I went to toga parties and pub crawls and networking events. I struggled through stilted conversations and laughed at jokes I didn’t get. It felt hollow, as though I was playing a role. There but not there. Living in the empty space between the life happening all around me.

  …..

Visiting my new “family” was somehow even lonelier, but I still did it without fail, rain, hail or shine, every weekend, thinking that if I persisted, I would find my space amongst them. Or around them, or between them. Somewhere. The trainline was decrepit, a never-ending view of old silos and defunct box-cars left to rust in endless, empty yellow fields, now claimed by graffiti. Junkyards and old factories. Abandoned, forgotten by time, belonging nowhere.

I felt a kinship with them.

This family was different from what I was used to. A loud, messy, cluttered, chaotic house with classic rock always blasting and people constantly dropping over for a cup of tea. They had two dogs, three cats, a tank of fish and a hutch full of guinea pigs out the back. Walls were covered in endless football memorabilia, traditional Indigenous dot-paintings, and of course, framed photos of all their (our) fifty million relatives. None of me, for obvious reasons. I tried not to be hurt by it, it wasn’t like it was their fault. I was there in the empty patches of wall. In the empty space between them.

They took us out on these little day-trips, and I cherished the moments I got to spend with Anna. Her gentleness, her humour, her boundless energy. Her willingness to throw herself with unbridled enthusiasm into whatever dorky activity Iduna and Steve had organised for our bonding purposes, whether it was mini-golf, bowling, or picnicking at the botanical gardens. I relished her attention like the warmth of the sun.

I learnt little things about her, like that her favourite flowers were sunflowers, and she always ate ice-cream too fast and gave herself a brain-freeze, and I kept these tidbits like little treasures in my heart. Sometimes she would bring her guitar and bless us with a song. I’d never known any sound so heavenly. I wished those days would last forever.

But they didn’t. They turned to night, and the nights were a different matter.

Iduna and Steve drank a lot, so I drank a lot too, desperate to be what they wanted. To find my place within this family.

“I’m so happy to have you back,” Iduna would tell me as she squeezed me a little too tight, after the first bottle. It was nice to hear. She was my mother, after all. But I’d built my identity around being a girl who didn’t have a mother, and her affection felt strange and foreign. Like I was an imposter in someone else’s life. Still, I could see this meant a lot to her, and I liked the attention. So I refilled my glass when she refilled hers, told her I was so happy to have her back too, and hoped she didn’t hear the uncertainty in my voice.

She would tell me how she was sorry, oh, so sorry, with tears in her eyes. How much she missed me and regretted leaving it so long to contact me, how fear just got in the way. I hugged her and told her it was okay. Was it okay? I didn’t know. But there was something so small and kind of broken about her. I couldn’t bear to see her cry. I put my feelings aside to cradle hers.

It was at this point that Anna would usually say something about “leaving us to it”, and disappear to wander the grimy streets with her friends.

My heart would sink. Every time, I wanted to ask her to stay but… something stopped me.

Steve would shake his head and click his tongue disapprovingly. “No good,” he’d say, proceeding to describe her friends as dropkicks, losers, and even more colourful terms that seemed awfully harsh to describe children. This one was in a gang, he said, and that one’s selling drugs. This other one’s on a path to nowhere. And so on with the claims for which he presented no evidence.

“A responsible older sister,” he said, slurring from the eighteen beers he’d already downed before the sun had set, “that’s what she needs to get her head straight. Someone she can look up to. To set a good,” he belched, “example.”

Perhaps I ought to have swelled with pride, but the weight of his expectation felt like lead in my chest, with so many others already stacked like stones in my throat. My scholarships, my own father’s dreams for me, Iduna’s guilt.

I couldn’t help but wonder, what if I wasn’t someone to look up to? What if I failed to set the example Steve hoped I would?

“I only wish you’d been with us sooner,” he said things like this often, even though he and Iduna didn’t seem particularly interested in me. They kept forgetting what degree I was studying. Never asked much about my life. Still, he would assure me that he was the one who encouraged Anna to reach out and he always wanted me to be part of the family.

A look of hurt would cross Iduna’s face at this, and I felt guilty, like I was responsible for her absence from my life, and her subsequent guilt and inner turmoil. Their words would become sharper, hidden meanings I couldn’t decipher hiding between the lines, and they would retreat to their room for whispered arguments, leaving me alone, feeling, again, like I’d done something wrong.

…..

Historically, I’d never much cared for sports. But watching Anna do sports was another matter. In fact, it quickly became the highlight of my week. The reward for getting through the slog of study, the lonely march to classes, nights of memorising case law and taking practice tests, and then of course, enduring the emotional vomit of Iduna and Steve.

My eyes were glued to her lean form as she took off gliding over the red pitch, muscles rippling in the sun in her crop top and tiny shorts. I was just admiring her prowess, her strength and speed and agility, the physique she’d worked so hard to build. That was totally normal, right? A normal, not-weird response to witnessing a human in peak condition.

I was proud of her, too. It was just pride that was swelling in my chest, warm and bubbly. What else would it be? I’d never had a sibling before, so I assumed it must be normal to feel these intense feelings, these desperate feelings. This yearning, this vague sense of want.

Sometimes her stupid boyfriend came with us. The huge, dumb oaf would sit in the tiny space between us, in a backseat that wasn’t designed for three. He belted out ‘I Want to Know What Love Is,’ off-key, with a voice like a strangled cat. Anna giggled as though the hideous sound was charming, and for some strange reason I wanted to punch him.

That’s when it dawned on me that maybe the way I felt wasn’t totally normal.

…..

Realising you have feelings for your own sister is kind of like learning the shocking twist to a movie. It changes everything. You can’t just go back to how it was before you knew it.

The secret scratched and struggled at my chest, like a feral little animal, impossible to ignore. It loomed in the forefront of my mind when I tried to focus on lectures, when I made my breakfast in the shared kitchen, when I attended study groups in the library. Even throwing myself into the dorm’s regimented social activities and drinking myself silly didn’t help. The idea that I may be in love with my sister always sat uncomfortably on the roof of my mouth, threatening to escape. I felt more alone than ever, further away, less real, less alive.

The only solace I found was in the deep dark trenches of the internet. Stories of others like me, who had grown up apart from their family and reunited only to be thrown through this wringer of shame and confusion. Something called ‘genetic sexual attraction’. According to official sources, it wasn’t real, just “pseudoscience”. But all these strangers angsting on the internet certainly suggested otherwise. I lost myself in story after story - mostly adopted, but similar enough - until those forums became more real than the world outside. Days passed in a blur, the weather grew colder as I drank alone in my dorm and, as I reached the end of the content, began to read through it all again.

…..

They took me on this camping trip and it was a big deal, because Aunty Yalena was going to be there and she was some sort of matriarch. I had to be respectful to her, obviously, but not too nice because she and Iduna apparently had some beef and I still had to be loyal. It was complicated, for sure. I would have been more stressed about it, but the sleeping arrangements dominated my attention.

“W-where?” I almost choked, not quite believing what I was hearing.

“Were you expecting a castle, your highness?” Steve grunted as he pumped the air mattress. “It’s a little hard to get a four-poster bed out here to the desert. It won’t kill ya to share a bed with your sister for one night.”

So that was it. Like some kind of cruel joke the fates were playing, I was going to be sharing a bed with my sister. I sighed and tried to put it out of my mind, focussing instead on the vivid blood-red plains and quartz glittering under the bright sun in the wide-open sky.

Night fell over the desert with quiet stillness. Stars shone like diamonds in the inky black sky, and I greeted them as old friends. Still ignoring the anxiety of our sleeping situation, I found an empty space around the campfire, between all the many strangers who were in fact my relatives, and let myself fall into the soothing rhythm of Aunty Yalena’s voice as she told stories of a time before time. A time before universities and alcohol and passive-aggressive step-parents and blow-up mattresses. Animals that turned into mountains, tears that became lakes, feathers that fell to the ground and grew into forests, snakes that carved rivers into the land, siblings that turned into stars.

I fell onto my back, so enraptured that I momentarily forgot to worry about the spiders and the snakes and the way the soft desert sand stains everything crimson, and I looked up.

“When the nights are at their longest and darkest, that’s when you can see the Dark Emu,” Yalena said. “It’s a shape inside the Milky Way, up there, see?”

I didn’t see. I didn’t expect to. I’ve never been any good at picking out constellations, couldn’t even find the Southern Cross if my life depended on it. But it was nice, nonetheless. It was pretty.

“It’s a different way of seeing. It’s a shape in the darkness, in the empty space between the bright stars.”

I let her words sit for a while, not really expecting anything. Just feeling comfortable, for once, on the soft face of an ancient country, bigger than myself. Bigger than my little problems. And then, I saw it. Clear as day. The curved neck, feathery body, and long legs.

The Dark Emu.

Right above me, in the middle of the radiant winter sky. A figure of darkness between the milky bright patches of starlight. A figure I must have seen so many times in my life, and yet I didn’t see. I only saw the bright stars shining all around.

I found my eyes were full of tears. I couldn’t say why. Just, for a moment, I was found.

“Hey,” Anna’s voice roused me. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t say how long I’d been lying there, staring into space. Everyone else had gone. A few smouldering coals glowed softly where the campfire had been. “What’s the time?”

“The time is now.” She shrugged and sat down next to me, pulled a squashed cigarette out of her bra, and lit it, gazing into the sky. “Want one?”

“I- I mean yes, please, but…” I sat up, blinking in surprise. Who was this smoking Anna, this mysterious girl I thought I knew? “I can’t believe you smoke!”

“Are you judging me, now?” She grinned and elbowed me in the ribs. I relished the contact. “Bloody hypocrite.”

“No! Just, I mean, you’re so sporty and fit. I just assumed you’d never do anything to jeopardise your dreams.”

She took a drag so deep I could almost hear the tiny particles of her lungs turning black, then breathed out silvery smoke into the quiet of the night. “They’re mostly Mum and Dad’s dreams.”

The words reverberated in the cool night air, like a gong.

“I kind of wanna quit athletics.”

Steve may not have projected the same suit-wearing, stern-voiced flavour of expectation as my own father. But I understood, nonetheless. It was a rare moment when the right words, borne of empathy, just came to me. “What’s your dream, then?”

“Music.” There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation, and her voice shone with hope. “I want to focus on music.”

“Really?” Of course I loved her music, but it never clicked that it was quite so important. Maybe it would have, if I’d been seeing in a different way. Seeing what was in the dark, empty space between all the sports trophies and medals and bragging parents. “That’s awesome.”

“Me and some friends have started a band. We’ve written loads of material. We just need to find a new drummer. And then… figure out how to book a gig, I guess.”

God, how did she just keep getting cooler? The idea of her up on a stage, rocking out in some badass outfit was almost too much for my brain to process. “Well, when you do, count me in! I’ll be your biggest fan.”

“Yeah?” She butted out her cigarette and elbowed me again, “you gonna throw some undies onstage for me?”

I choked out a laugh, hoping to God she was just being silly and hadn’t noticed anything suspicious in my dark patches. That this wasn’t some kind of test. The beginning of the end.

“It’s getting pretty cold. Do you wanna head back to the tent?”

I gulped like a guilty defendant and followed her through the sleeping campsite.

Anna fell asleep almost immediately, but I lay stiffly at the edge of the mattress, barely able to breathe in the heat of the shared space. Overwhelmed by both the reality of our closeness, and the impossibility of more.

When the sun rose, she was draped over me in a mess of awkward angles, her cheek pressed against my own and warm breath in my ear. Heavy and soft. Perfect. I breathed in her scent and tried to etch every sensory detail into my memory, wishing the moment would never end.

Tragically, the smell of sausages, damper and billy-tea roused her from my embrace. “Sorry, I’m a cuddler,” she said, “but also, you’re nice and warm.” With a small giggle, she disappeared into the light.

…..

“I’m going down to the creek with some mates,” Anna told me one Friday night after dinner, “do you wanna come with?”

You’d think she’d just gotten down on one knee and proposed marriage, the way my heart swelled. I tried to be cool about it. I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of her intimidatingly cool friends. I know, they were just high school kids, but there was a worldliness about them that eclipsed my own. Effortless swag. Street smarts, no doubt.

I’d barely been out in this neighbourhood before. Iduna and Steve always picked me up from the train station, constantly lamenting all the murders and the gang activities and how they’d be moving somewhere nicer once they could get a bit more savings together, but you know, ‘expenses’ always came up and got in the way.

I suspected a lot of those expenses were of the alcoholic variety.

Anyway, these kids led me past houses with boarded up windows and broken toys littering overgrown lawns. A few with police tape across the front. Occasional empty lots full of decomposing furniture and burnt-out cars. They stopped periodically to spray-paint their names behind corner-shops and on bus stops.

None of it was scary or even uncomfortable. On the contrary, it was a privilege to step into Anna’s world. Learning more about her life made me feel closer to her. I couldn’t tell you where she got the money from, or how she was able, at sixteen, to waltz on into this bottle-shop like she owned the place and walk out with a bottle of Grey Goose, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything.

The afternoon sky was a moody grey, and the spring rains had drenched everything in sight. I relished the reckless abandon of being damp, hungry and a little too cold, but too drunk to care.

Her friends weren’t all that intimidating, really. They spoke of regular teenage dilemmas, exams, crushes and their dreams of making it big as a band. It was refreshing, a break from the pretentious rich kids I was used to at uni - frankly, I was pretty bored with debates on postmodern art, hermeneutics, and Nietzschean analyses of pop culture.

They sang songs, roughhoused, played on the playground and when that made them too dizzy, fell onto the ground laughing. Anna fell beside me, at some point after the vodka was gone and the distant honking of trains had stopped, and two of her friends were having a deep conversation on the merry-go-round while another pissed in the bushes.

The night was quiet, just the soothing rush of the creek and whisper of wind in the trees. The sky above was a weird, pale red colour. Starless and a little too bright for an hour so small. I had a sudden sense that something was… wrong. That it was some kind of omen, heralding the beginning of the end.

“Why does the sky look like that?”

“Light pollution,” Anna said, “and, you know, regular pollution. From all the factories and stuff.” Her hand inched toward mine, pinkies interlocking, but we kept our eyes focussed above. “Growing up out here, all I ever knew was this night sky. I never knew what it was actually supposed to look like until I went camping for the first time.”

“Yeah…” something about that was so profoundly sad to me, though why I couldn’t quite say, “no Dark Emu tonight.”

“You’re my Dark Emu.”

“What do you mean?”

She rolled over, flush against my side, still looking up into the sky. “When I found out I had a sister, I was so confused because how could I have a sister when there wasn’t anyone else there in the house? I looked everywhere for you. In the cupboards, in the washing machine, down the side of the couch. I thought you’d got lost somewhere in the house. It was like there was this empty space in the family that I could feel, even if no one saw it from the outside. You were still there somehow. And it made me feel… less alone.”

“I…” I felt a strange pressure in my chest, tears welling up in my eyes. I’d seen myself more as an inconvenient leftover, a mystery Tupperware lid, an extra puzzle piece that didn’t fit anywhere within this family, with a side of irrational guilt for not being there for her all these years, “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything.” Her hand brushed over my cheek, and I turned my head toward her, not quite able to believe what was happening.

But it was happening. Her face inched closer to mine until there was no more empty space between us. Our lips locked together, soft and warm, and all the universe shifted into alignment.

…..

I awoke to shouting. I was in Anna’s bed, but the space beside me was cold. My stomach clenched as Steve’s voice boomed down the hall. Words and phrases like reckless and ungrateful and throwing your future away.

Anna was shouting back, or perhaps pleading. My mind raced through possibilities, scenarios, implications, each more damning than the last. A sense of impending doom pressed down on my chest. Like a rat in a cage, I knew somehow that the crosshairs would find me soon enough.

My fight or flight response in full swing, I scanned the room for the best escape route, but it was too late. Steve was standing in the door, bleary eyed in a coffee-stained dressing gown, mid-lecture, “Athletics is your chance to move up in the world, to actually be somebody-” he paused and the world ended right there as his gaze fell upon me. “Oh, yes. Of course, I might have known. It all makes sense, now.”

But what exactly might he have known? How much might he have known, and how much more might he have inferred, true or not? My throat closed and my vision blurred. I resisted the urge to blurt out that nothing happened, because that would make it sound like something happened, and realistically, all we did was sleep next to each other, cuddle a bit, stroke each other’s hair… That was essentially nothing. Wasn’t it?

“And I suppose you’re the one who’s been buying her the smokes and the grog, too?”

“No!” Anna tried to defend me, but I’d been in her position before. I knew the soul-crushing shame of disappointing a parent who expected the impossible of you. The occasional need for a scapegoat. I also knew, in his eyes, I would be the bad guy no matter what.

So I simply nodded, avoiding the wrath in his eyes.

When he left, I pulled on my shoes and packed my bag with shaking hands, creeping out to the kitchen like a prisoner to the gallows. My mother was there, sucking on a cigarette, with bags under her eyes.

“Elsa. You know I still love you,” she said, making up some instant coffee in a thermal flask. I braced myself for the inevitable ‘but’.

Because there is always a ‘but’.

“But you know how this looks, right?”

I wasn’t entirely sure just how bad it looked, but I nodded anyway, afraid to ask for clarification. Afraid to know exactly how much she was seeing in the empty space between me and Anna. My eyes pricked with tears but I refused to let them fall.

“You’re an adult. She’s a child.”

The implications of the sentence fell on me like a ton of bricks. The danger of the line I was treading. Of what could have happened, as if the drinking wasn’t bad enough. I wanted the ground to swallow me.

But it didn’t. My mother stared at me expectantly, so I mustered up the words, “I know. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t enough.

Down the hall, Steve was on the phone to Anna’s coach, claiming she was unwell, planning a make-up training session. And Iduna continued to stare, offering no reassurance. No clarity.

“Maybe it’s best if I don’t come around for a while…” I said, thinking surely she would correct me, tell me not to be silly. That I was still wanted here. Still welcome. That she loved me no matter what, and we would work through this together.

How many times had they both told me I was part of this family and always welcome?

“Yes,” she handed me the flask of coffee, along with the pieces of my broken heart, “that might be best.”

…..

I left with my tail between my legs. Hot, sickly shame flowing through my veins. The world blurred through my tears, but one thing was clear: I’d lost her.

Alone in my room I sank bottle after bottle, neglecting my lectures and assignments. As days turned to weeks, I shut the world out, retreated within myself and drifted into fantasy. More than fantasy - obsession. Different timelines. Different childhoods - a shared childhood. The memories we should have created together.

With all the ethanol flooding my veins and the lack of sleep fraying my synapses as I wandered, lost and forlorn between sleep and wakefulness, they really felt like they might have been real. As though somewhere between the layers of this universe and all the other universes, there existed one where Anna and I had never known the pain of separation, only the mundanity of siblinghood. Lazy mornings, sleepovers, occasional fights and the quiet security of unconditional love found only in family.

When I came to, I found myself alone. My kingdom of isolation was nothing more than a tiny, filthy dorm room. Off-white cinder blocks and unwashed bed-sheets and cigarette butts hidden in the window-sill. A pathetic life, small and empty. Fantasies crumpled to dust. Bitter, ashamed, and in desperate need of answers. Needing someone to blame.

“It broke my heart when Agnarr took you away. Yalena wanted me to go to court and fight for you but… my cousins told me not to. We already had child protection picking off our children one by one. At least with him I knew you were safe.”

That was the reason my mother gave me, when I found the nerve to message her. She also let me know, unprompted, that the family was ‘not ready’ for my return. It began to sink in that they might never be.

“We were only sixteen when we had you. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. She only visited a few times. Always at night, always when she was drunk. I wasn’t ready to be a father either, but at least my parents could support me. That family had a lot of problems, generations of poverty and trauma. I did what I did to protect you.”

That was the reason my father gave me. Both sounded so reasonable, on their own, with all this hindsight and space between now and back then when things were oh so very different and complicated. But neither were enough to justify the loss of Anna from my life, and I from hers.

…..

I sat in a room with the counsellor. I don’t know who made the referral, or why. Perhaps it was the fact I was failing everything, scholarships in peril. Or that I showed up to class with dirty pyjamas hanging off my rapidly diminishing frame, when I showed up at all. Or that I ignored everyone who spoke to me on the rare occasion I left my dank room.

I almost told her. Almost. Said something vague about loss. About deep dark secrets. But when it came down to it, I simply couldn’t. I couldn’t even speak Anna’s name. This kind of problem, well, it didn’t belong in the light of day. There would be no sympathy for a sister like me. Some things you just have to figure out by yourself.

But I didn’t figure it out. Not any of it. Round and round in circles I went, but nothing became clearer. Nothing made sense.

It was too much. Too much to swallow, too much to accept. All I could do was run from it. Run and drink, and drink and run, until one night I ran all the way into the still slumbering city. At that lonely hour, it was inhabited only by the miserable homeless and those still partying at the few seedy corners where bright light and thumping beats spilled from dingy doorways. I wandered, heartbroken and forlorn. Exhausted and dehydrated as all hell, feeling too unworthy of even a bottle of water from 7-eleven if I was truly such a blight on Anna’s life, if my own mother who birthed me had turned me away. I wished for someone to hurt me, for the sky to open up and smite me down, for something, anything to happen to reflect the gaping woundedness of my heart and the wretchedness of my soul. For something to fill the empty space where Anna was not. I marched into the filthiest nightclub I could find, where a few haggard lost souls writhed on the dancefloor, and bought a shot of tequila, then three more. Then I stumbled onto the dancefloor, toward a woman with neon corded dreads, white contact lenses and subdermal implants in the shape of devil-horns. She asked me if I wanted to feel good. Called me baby.

I wanted to feel anything other than what I felt, so I danced with her. When she opened her mouth, revealing a pale brown capsule on her tongue, I let her kiss me, and swallowed down the bitter pill like a punishment.

Everything blurred around me, my stomach lurched and my head pounded, I danced like I wanted to die, like I could dance right out of myself, out of this world. I danced and I drank, and I drank and I danced until everything went black to the muffled sounds of “hey, kid… you okay?”

…..

I walked on weightless legs through endless night, galaxies blooming in colours that didn’t exist. I let myself dissolve in the hugeness of infinity. In the absence of light, in the absence of heat, I froze, and I fractalled into the vastness of endless time.

I waited, until the end became the beginning, until all became quiet, and my mind stretched endlessly in a canvas of silver on black. Dots. Kisses. Stars.

They were freckles. Anna’s freckles.

Did I hurt her?

Was I a monster?

I wept and I wept, until my tears became a river, and the river was the Milky Way, and it was crying with me for all eternity. I followed the endless silvery trail of stars, treading carefully lest I fall into the lightless void below, until I stopped.

I saw him. The Dark Emu. He looked into my eyes and I saw myself.

What was I but the darkness hanging unspoken between my family? Lullabies never sung, birthday cards never sent. Bonds never formed. A seesaw not moving. A clapping game with no clapping, little hands reaching out into empty space. Alone. Dark desires borne in the absence of two childhoods not shared.

Nobody’s fault.

…..

I woke up in the hospital. It was too bright, too white, a thousand sounds assaulting my ears, beeping and whirring and ding-donging, voices mumbling and wheels rolling. An empty bag of saline still connected to my arm. I ripped it out, surprised by the pain and bright red alive-ness of my blood.

“Is there anyone we can call?” they asked as I made for the door, “Do you have an emergency contact?”

“Um…” Did I have anyone I could call? I thought of my parents, and my heart softened. Neither were blameless. And yet, I couldn’t find it in my heart to hold it against either. These two broken people who brought me into existence by happy accident. I had no choice in the matter. And I had no choice but to go on.

“No. But don’t worry. I think I’m gonna be okay,” I said, and for the first time, I actually meant it.

…..

It was summer when I saw her again. Her sun-kissed skin glistened golden under the bright spotlights. She looked so grown up, up there on the little stage. Like a rock star. Like the rising sun.

I’d expected to be able to hide in a bigger crowd. The bar was tiny and only about twenty people had shown up to the all-ages afternoon free gig, bobbing to the music, clapping and whooping casually to each song.

Her face lit up when she saw me, and she smiled with her eyes while singing back-up into the mic. I glanced over my shoulder, feeling conspicuous, paranoid that Iduna and Steve would show up to shout or judge or scrutinise.

Out in the beer garden, vines crept up the walls and flowers bloomed like stars above us. We sat across from each other at a sticky table, sipping lemonade. After all those months of yearning, wishing, imagining… She was really, truly there. I wanted to touch her, to breathe her in, to pull her into a never-ending embrace.

But I held back. Instead, I gushed over her performance, like she deserved. Told her how much I’d missed her, though words were inadequate. And she told me she’d missed me too, rather passionately, as she squeezed my hands.

“Really?” I asked, a little surprised. I’d not let my hopes rise too high. But in that mature-beyond-her-years way of hers, she seemed to just understand.

“Mum and Dad told me… to give you space,” she said, puffing on her cigarette with a frown, as if working out a complicated problem. She ran her thumbs softly, a little too sensually, over my own hands. It sent a shiver down my spine. “They’re idiots, though. I shouldn’t have listened. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” I shrugged, stomach lurching a little at their mention. “Are they uh… okay with this? I mean, you doing this instead of athletics… me being here…”

“Well, no,” she smiled a lopsided smile that just absolutely melted me, “but they also don’t know I’m here. I’ve actually been living with Aunty Yalena for a while. It’s a lot more chill. You should come over!”

My instinct was to decline, to assume I wasn’t welcome, wasn’t wanted, didn’t belong. But something stopped me. “I’d love to.”

…..

The Dark Emu has always stood in the entryway of Aunty Yalena’s house. It always will. An image of black amongst a thousand tiny dots of white, yellow, orange, pink, and purple. The painting reaches from the floor to the ceiling, and surrounding it are photos of every distant niece and nephew and cousin ever to walk the earth. I stopped in my tracks the first time I walked in and saw my own face there, amongst the others. Amongst the stars.

I tried to blink back tears, but a few trailed over my smiling cheeks anyway. I couldn’t explain why. I was found.

Anna kissed me, and I kissed her back. Softly, slowly, and without fear. Then she took my hand and led me away, into the light of day.

[justlookatthosesausages]

Inktober 2022 day 7 👩‍👧‍👧 "Trip"

"Are we there yet?" Asked Anna with a barely masked groan, and her mother smiled next to her.

"Not yet, darling. You have to be patient. Where's the enthusiasm I saw an hour ago?" Teased Iduna, and her youngest child drew a smile from her pout.

"I'm still happy!" Exclaimed the teen. "It's a family trip!"

Elsa, who was sitting next to her, however didn't smile. "Not really. Father didn't come."

The Queen's expression saddened when she saw the blonde keeping her eyes on the landscape, her fist against her cheek as she leaned on the edge of the wagon with her elbow. They were slightly rocked by the movements of the cart, yet she still was focused on sulking. Iduna sighed softly, turning her eyes back on the road as she drove. Raising two teens at a time and having one going through puberty was a hard task. Especially when said elder had ice and snow magic. Thankfully, Anna helped, directly and indirectly, and Elsa never lost control of her temper and powers.

"I told you, he's busy with King affairs."

"Hmm." Simply replied Elsa, and her azure blue eyes kept ignoring her.

Iduna wasn't vexed; she also knew that Elsa's behavior and mood would soon completely change when she would show what she had planned to do.

And indeed, when they arrived half a day later, her daughters both were widening their eyes in utter stupefaction at the sight of the giant curtain of Mist standing in front of them. They were so astonished that they moved out of the wagon slowly, so Iduna took that time to attach the horse and feed him before unloading their backpacks.

Once Anna and Elsa were done staring, she handed them their bags, and smiled. "I've been meaning to bring you here since the moment you opened your eyes. Both of you."

Elsa's attitude slightly shifted when she saw the tender look of her mother and the emotion in her eyes. Anna gasped in joy and ran forward, her backpack ruffling and bouncing in her back, and the two others followed. The redhead came to a stand right in front of the Mist, unable to resist touching it. It kept pushing her hand, and she giggled at the magic. "So the legends are real..."

Iduna nodded next to her, then looked sad. "I came back to this land two times in the past. When I was around your age, and after the accident happened, when you two found the solution."

Elsa and Anna looked at her, then exchanged a stare. Anna absentmindedly fidgeted with the end of one of her pigtails, remembering that night when Elsa had hit her at the head with her magic. The blonde had been distressed and anxious about it, but days of panic later, Anna showed her that she still loved her and that she should keep loving herself and her magic despite that accident, and when they eventually hugged warmly, her white streak disappeared.

The siblings smiled, and Iduna beamed at their mutual love. She walked forward, putting her hands on each of their shoulders. "It's time for you to be part of the tale too."

Her hand then squeezed Elsa's shoulder. "Dear, I think it's your task. Your destiny. Each time I come back to this Mist, it refuses to part, even though I used to live on the other side. Magic always has its reasons, so I suppose that it needs a magical being - someone blessed with magic," she added, reminding her daughter once again of how precious and beautiful she was, "to open it."

Anna smiled, proud of her elder. "You're the key."

Elsa looked unsure, and her timid expression was kilometers away from the pouting teenager one she showed before. Bashfully, she walked forward, and raised her hand to the wall of smoke, hesitant at first. Then she pushed. However, nothing happened. She frowned and tried once more, with no effect, then concentrated magic in her palm. It glowed bright blue, but once again there was no change. The Mist still pushed her, and calmly stood.

"I don't understand... I can feel magic in it, and a lot more on the other side." Muttered the blonde. "It should have worked..."

She turned to the women, who couldn't hide their disappointment. Elsa got sad and heartbroken at their expressions. "I- I'm sorry, I thought I could..."

Anna immediately walked to her, not letting the secretly insecure and doubtful teenager go through a spiral again. "No, no, it's okay. You did your best."

She held her hands in hers, and they were still cool from the magic and worry. Anna rubbed them gently with her thumbs, and smiled at her sister, who eventually curled her lips up.

Iduna, who until now was melting at the scene, turned her eyes to the Mist again when something happened. "...Girls..."

The sisters followed her gaze, and saw that the magical barrier seemed to become... Thinner? Sure, it wasn't parted at all, but they could almost see through. They distinguished trees, stones...

"What's happening?" Frowned Elsa, who could sense that something changed in the magic, yet the way wasn't complete.

Iduna gasped, and turned to them. "Remember what I told you, when I showed you my scarf? The Four Spirits are here to protect the Forest and help humans."

The siblings nodded.

"But legends say that there is a Fifth Spirit, meant to be a balance between humans and magic of Nature, and form a bridge between them..." Continued Iduna, and she smiled at her children.

Anna frowned, then gasped, twirling to her elder. "We are the Fifth Spirit!"

Elsa blinked in amazement and emotion. "Two sisters..."

"...One mind." Grinned the redhead.

Elsa smiled, and turned to the Mist again. With a smirk, she tugged gently on Anna's hand, and the younger sister followed her move with an excited giggle. They held hands firmly, and raised the others to the Mist.

Iduna took a steady breath, and her daughters applied their palms on the magical smoke. Instantly, it parted, and they all let out gasps.

The new path revealed the Elemental Stones that were familiar to the former Northuldra, and her eyes filled with tears.

[lovewillthaw-j]

Yesterday I posted the blurry alternate All Is Found.

Here are all the deleted, but complete, scenes I can find related to the original All Is Found.

There is 1 scene just before the song, 3 scenes from the song, and 3 scenes just after the song. Also, take a look at this excerpt from the F2 novelization:

The novelization contains 1) "Now sleep, my little snow" 2) Iduna kissing Elsa's hands 3) Elsa calling Iduna while Iduna is at the door, asking if Ahtohallan knows why she has powers 4) Elsa, head on her pillow, saying "Someone should really try to find it" and 5) Iduna's bittersweet smile. These are moments we can see in my video compilation.

Anyone wants gifs?

Lol! BTW this gif above, is not in the movie. Only in the deleted scene from Ivan Oviedo.

I really, REALLY, love Iduna kissing Elsa's hands.

So much so that a long time ago I made these simple edits. (I haven't learnt how to cut out a person yet using select and mask)

[the-blue-fairie]

Since I see that discussion where someone told me how Show Yourself “wasn’t a continuation of Let It Go, it’s doing it the right way” is going around again, sometimes with my reply to that reply included and sometimes not, I just want to reaffirm my position.

Much can be said about how “nothing about [Let it Go] was Elsa actually working through her issues,” but then... Show Yourself doesn’t actually show Elsa working through her issues and fully processing the trauma she experienced either. In fact, Show Yourself itself “masks” Elsa’s issues by refusing to acknowledge the trauma Elsa experienced in childhood and Iduna’s part in that trauma. In that sense, the film lays a false groundwork for Elsa moving forward, acting like the scene gives Elsa catharsis when it ignores the crucial things that scarred Elsa in the first place.

Moreover, in that sense, there are things I’d argue Let it Go does better than Show Yourself because Let it Go feels more directly rooted in Elsa’s actual experiences and her responses to those experiences, because Let it Go directly confronts the childhood separation that initially traumatized Elsa and it directly confronts her complicated relationship with her parents.

And, as I’ve said in another post, if you want to claim that Show Yourself is about Elsa healing from the scars her parents gave to her and making peace with them now that she has greater understanding of them... you have to accept the fact that none of that is in in the movie. For that to have been in the movie, the movie would have had to address Elsa’s parents’ part in her trauma and acknowledge that Elsa had... any feelings... about that, which the film doesn’t do. It would have been really easy for the film to do that, and so I can see why people want to make the jump to headcanon to fill in the movie’s gaps, but the movie never frames those gaps as a subtle and indirect way to show Elsa’s forgiveness of her parents. For that to have been the implication, the film would have had to address the roots of Elsa’s trauma directly with reference to the childhood separation, but it made the active choice NOT to do that.

See, this is what I mean when I say people are more concerned with the intent of F2 than what it actually says. Because I know the intent of Show Yourself is to give Elsa closure. It just... doesn’t actually do that, and creates new issues that it refuses to acknowledge.

[anicespotforaus]

@icecream-iduna, another friend, and I were messing around with the idea of a 1920’s phantom of the opera AU and I had to do some concept art 😁

These are just sketches so I might do some actual art for it sometime later 🤷🏼‍♀️ I haven’t decided yet 😂

Christine sings in cafés and at events when she can. She moved to New York for a new start after her father died, and for the spare apartment Adele Giry and her daughter Meg offered. Erik is a double agent in the war, stealing military secrets and designing weaponry. His motivations are unclear and his identity is hidden behind a gas mask. Raoul, a childhood friend of Christine’s joined the navy. Meg writes to him weekly but when he stops responding with no explaination the girls decide to volunteer for YMCA, hoping to help with war efforts however possible. This is where Christine meets the enigmatic phantom.

[fericita-s]

Glowing True

An alternate chapter 26 for Dangerous Secrets, written for the “Write Your Own Style” Agduna Discord Server contest. Thanks as always to @the-spaztic-fantastic​ for beta-ing and helping me on the most devastating lines.  Angst ahead; you’ve been warned.

“Iduna,” he said, reaching for my hands.

I longed for his touch but I crossed my arms instead, bunching the tea towel in one fist and squeezing hard, remembering how he had called me stubborn the last time we spoke. Still, it was a relief to see him, to know that despite the gates being closed, and the looming threat of violence against the crown, that he was safe.  That he still had some measure of freedom, though he had tried to take mine away.

It made me mad all over again to think of it. “Are you here to order me somewhere?”

He grimaced and stayed on the doorstep, not making a move to come in. I could see two soldiers a few paces back, one keeping watch out towards the street and one looking at us as we spoke. “I’m sorry, Iduna. I was wrong to do that. And I am here to invite you somewhere, though you are free to say no.”

“I’m listening,” I said, uncrossing my arms but still not inviting him in.

“Mr. Sorensen is at the castle with the council members. They’ve devised a plan to question every citizen about these attacks so we can figure out how to keep everyone safe.”

“They’ve devised it? What about you?”

“I don’t need a test to tell me the Northuldra are blameless in this. We’ve seen how impenetrable the mist remains.  And I don’t like the idea of questioning citizens.  But these are dark times and I’ve agreed to back their plan. And I’d like you to back it too.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Come to the castle.  Allow Mr. Sorensen to question you with this new system.  Everyone in town knows you and loves you. If they see you volunteering for this, it might help them agree to do so willingly. It might take some of their fear away.”

“That’s not exactly volunteering,” I said. Lord Peterssen had warned me against this, but I considered. If this was the quickest way to find the culprits, would it be the quickest way to clear the Northuldra from blame? With the true perpetrators unmasked, might I be able to reveal my origins to Agnarr at last? “Did Lord Peterssen tell you to get me? That I should take this test?”

“No, he hasn’t arrived at the meeting yet.  I thought he might be here actually.  But I’m glad I could talk to you alone.” Agnarr looked so penitent.  So hopeful.  So kingly.

If I had managed to hide in plain sight for so long, surely I could lie my way through questioning.  Even questions designed to catch lies.

“I’ll go,” I said.

Agnarr smiled and I hoped it was the right choice.

                                       ***************************

“Tell us your name.”

“Iduna.”

Mr. Sorensen nodded encouragingly, and then pointed to the crystal that glowed red from its short chain around my neck, drawing the attention of the other assembled council members. “See how it glows? That means the answer she gave is true.  It will also glow if the wearer knows the answer is ‘yes’ to a question that I ask.  Thank you, Iduna.  Let’s continue.”

The polished mahogany of the table was so bright it seemed to be its own source of light. But it was easier to look at than the faces around the table.  Lord Peterssen’s face was impassive, but I knew he was thinking this was folly. He had flashed a look of shock and then fear when I had arrived and I was certain he would have words with Agnarr later.  And me.

“Tell us about your parents, Iduna.”

“They died.  In the forest.” I didn’t look down to see if the crystal glowed, but at the sight of Sorensen nodding, I assumed my half-truth worked.

“Do you blame the Northuldra for their deaths?”

“No. I don’t know who killed them.  I didn’t see them die.” Some of the councillors moved in their seats or furrowed their brows at this question, but I kept my body as still as possible, trying not to choke on the word “die.” Hoping the crystal couldn’t discern the crowded thoughts in my head.

I wanted to cry.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to ask what risk they thought a peaceful people who had left Arendelle alone for years could pose.  I wanted to say that the Northuldra were blamed for every inconvenience, large and small, and that they could hardly be dyeing sheep purple and assaulting people in the street while trapped behind the mist. But it seemed my pared-down answer worked.  The crystal glowed red, Sorensen nodded, and the questions continued.

“What do you know about the men with sun masks?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you know any group that uses the sun as its symbol?”

“Corona.”

“The Northuldra too, yes?”  Sorensen seemed thrilled that the crystal was doing what he hoped.  He rubbed his hands together and then took notes as he continued with his questions.  

“Yes, though it seems monumentally stupid that those who bother wearing masks to hide their identity would use a symbol of their nation in the design of their mask.” I winced as I caught the surprised look of the council members, but Sorensen laughed. So much for only giving short, succinct answers.

“Yes, I believe that as well,” he said, still chuckling.

I hazarded a look at Peterssen but he remained expressionless.  Conceal don’t feel, indeed.  I wondered if he was so good at it that he could prevent a truth-telling crystal from revealing his feelings.

“Do you often travel alone?

“Yes.  I meet with farmers to help them with their windmills.”

“Have you ever seen anything suspicious?”

“No.”

“Do you swear allegiance to Arendelle?”

I took a breath, very aware of the crystal, cold against my chest.  I thought of my home.  My first home.  My mother wrapping me in her shawl and Yelana pledging to keep me safe.

But Agnarr was Arendelle.  And I loved him.

“Yes, I do.” I looked down, relieved to see the crystal glowing red.  

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell us, Iduna? Anything you think we need to know?”

“No.”

“Is there anything you think the crown prince needs to know?”

My cheeks heated at this, as red as the crystal that was surely about to glow. Agnarr needed to know so much. That I loved him. That I was Northuldra. That I would never cause him harm, and that’s why I had to lie now.

This group of assembled council members was looking at me sympathetically right now, but they were also a reminder of how hated the Northuldra remained.  A reminder of how little a chance I had of existing in Agnarr's castle as anyone other than a friend, than a citizen being brought in for questions.

I looked at Agnarr and then down at the crystal, glowing brightly red. More red than it had for any of my other answers.

“Please excuse me,” I said, rising quickly from the chair.  Every council member stood up, the sound of several chairs scraping against the hardwood floors deafening as they all rushed to show how courteous they were.

I ran to the door and down the hall, hearing Agnarr behind me, calling my name, but I didn’t turn to look.  Even if I escaped his sight, he would know where to find me.  Our special place. Our secret room.

The library was dark and Agnarr shut the door behind us quietly, not even a muffled sound escaped from tumblers latching into place.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my hand flying to where the crystal lay just above the neckline of the bodice.  “I forgot I was wearing it.”  It wasn’t true and the crystal was dull now, accusing me of the lie.  I tried to unfasten it but couldn’t with my shaking hands so instead I clasped them together, trying not to wring them with worry.  What must Agnarr think of me after that interview?

“What is it, Iduna? What was it you couldn’t say?” His voice was gentle and kind, soft and soothing.  I tried to imagine how he might shout if I told him the truth of who I was but just as quickly realized the futility.  He would never react in anger.  He would understand, and that would be worse.  It would put him in danger.  I would put him in danger.

“I want you to leave,” I said.  “I don’t love you . . . I can’t love you.” I didn’t look down at the crystal, willing his eyes to stay on mine so he wouldn’t look either. Wouldn’t see how dull it remained.  

The complete lack of the crystal’s glow proving that I was a liar.  

But then I thought of what was true.  A truth that crushed me in its cruelty, that would crush him too. “You are a prince.  And I am not a princess. We cannot be together. ”

There was a long moment of silence and then Agnarr reached out and touched the crystal. “You really believe that,” he said, his voice a whisper.  I saw the red glow reflecting on his fingers as they ran across the surface of the crystal.  This close, I could see a small fleck of soap lather left on his collar from shaving, could feel the heat of him and remember what it felt like to be even closer as we so often had been in this very room.

He reached behind my neck and unfastened the clasp and then put it around his own neck, pulling at the collar of his shirt so the crystal lay against his skin. “Well, I don’t.  Look, Iduna.” His voice was strong now as he cradled my cheek with his hand and used the other to pull me close.  He was so tall now that my eyes were directly across from the crystal as it lay against his collarbone. “I love you.  I will find a way for us to be together.”

It glowed so red against his skin it looked like it was vibrating and I had the sudden horrible thought it would explode, shattering into shards and cutting us both.  Wounds we would never heal from.

“Come live at the castle.  Please.  If you won’t let me love you, at least let me protect you.”

The crystal glowed red against him still.  Glowing true.  

“Alright,” I said, wishing it wasn’t the only yes I could give him. I would give him all of me, all of my future.  But to do so would ruin his.  Would ruin Arendelle’s.  

So instead, I did the only other thing my heart and my body were longing to do.  I reached up to his cheek to feel the smoothness of his clean-shaven jaw, I rubbed at the spot of soap on his collar.  And I raised myself up on tiptoe and pulled him down by that collar to press my lips on his, to drink in all of him that I could.  His hands went around my waist and he pulled me closer, and then his thumbs were on my cheeks, gently smoothing away the few tears that had fallen. And as we kissed, I pretended.

Pretended to not have a thread around my heart that tightened when I thought about my mother.  Pretended that every mention of “the evil Northuldra” didn’t send a stab of panic straight down my spine.  Pretended that I could be Agnarr’s, and that he could be mine.  

We kissed in the hidden room, and I wished it was the only secret in this castle that could never truly be my home.

[ericmicael]

The 4 moments that caught my attention the most in "Dangerous Secrets":

. References to ElsaMaren

. The fate of Queen Rita

. The plot involving the realm of Vassar that reminded me a lot of Skelling's arc from "The Witcher 3". Honestly, from the very first incident involving men wearing sun masks, I've guessed exactly how the plot would develop and how it would be completed because it's actually very similar to the game in certain things.

. It is:

In my opinion, this vision of Iduna is just the book wanting to end the plot in a more... meaningful way. She herself isn't sure if it was really Ahothallan or just her mother's wish speaking (if it was a mother's wish Iduna has magical powers rs). But I really don't believe this feature (Ahtohallan sending messages about the future) will be used again in the franchise, but at the end of the day "Only Ahtohallan knows".

[katzkinder]

Halloween is my favorite holiday so you have. No idea. How much I have thought about this. Coming at this from a “Costume Party” viewpoint, cuz... Well, why not, laughs

Under the cut cuz this got LOOOONG

First up is my OT3. These three dumbasses thought it would be cute to go as classic slashers. Mahiru is dress as Ghostface and has a prop knife he got from Lawless. You know, one of those ones that retract into the sheath when you “stab” someone.

Kuro, with the help of Mahiru and Sakuya for the makeup (Mahiru has experience helping out the theatre club at school, and Sakuya is experienced with makeup for... Reasons relating to his life as a human. 8′D) dresses up as Freddy Krueger.

“Where are-? ... Huh. Creative use of your claws.”

“Thanks.”

Sakuya... Is Leatherface. Misono’s eying him, trying to figure out what his costume is, and eventually gives up and asks point blank.

“The hell are you supposed to be?”

“Oh, I am. So glad. You asked.”

CHAINSAW REVVING

MISONO SCREAMING

SAKUYA CACKLING

Why is my son like this.

Speaking of Misono~

He’s just so damn excited about being able to attend a Halloween party, but he also has no idea what to make his costume. Eventually he settles on Mad Doctor, which is just some x-small size scrubs and a face mask with some watered down red acrylic all down the front.

Lily wanted to be his “assistant” but Misono was very adamant he not lol. He kind of regrets not letting him because--

“.... Lily. Why are you dressed like a butler?”

“It’s my costume~”

“Okay... Then why is there a bunny tail attached to the back of your pants?”

“I’m going as the white rabbit, obviously.”

“......”

“Pyon~”

“Ugh.”

Pride pair... Gosh, Hugh’s adorable little pumpkin costume in canon is way way way too cute. I can’t picture him in anything else. Tetsu is a very poorly wrapped mummy. He keeps having to readjust his “bandages.”

Greed pair, as cliche as it sounds, are an Angel and Demon pair. Licht refuses to be anything BUT an Angel for Halloween, and Lawless does so love needling him... At the least, they change up the appearance every year.

Mikuni always goes over the top on whatever he chooses, even if no one invites him. A super grotesque looking zombie with full body paint, fake blood, and viscera? Exactly the kind of thing the extra bastard would go with. Poor Jeje has to wear a pumpkin on his head. Mikuni can’t even looks at him without crying from laughter. Gunshots ensue.

Wrath pair are another matching set, and a super cute one to boot. Freya as Jack Skellington and Iduna as Sally was one possible set of costumes I considered, but I’m also very fond of Freya as Jessica Rabbit, Iduna as Roger Rabbit, Gil and Ray as two of those Weasel bros, and Shuuhei being dragged along as a longsuffering Eddie. Another one Mikuni almost ruins his makeup because of.

Final group I just have to include is the Three Idiots and Takuto, who go as the Three (not so) Little Pigs and Big Bad Wolf, respectively. Happy family?? Yes please.

[professorspork]

3 word prompt: blood, break, shiver (is this too dramatic or too easy? lol it’s from a song and was the first thing that came to my mind)

There's blood on her hands.

The world is chaos all around her, everything she's ever known erupting into violence she cannot comprehend, and there's blood on her hands, in her lap, everywhere she's cradled the young prince against her. She'd just--just liked him is all. From a distance. Liked the way the sun beams caught in his hair and the willowy gangle of his limbs and the high, reedy whistle of his laugh. Was that so bad? Could that have tilted the delicate balance of nature off its axis so completely?

The earth splits apart under her feet, and she cannot find her parents, cannot find anyone familiar in the crowd. His was the first friendly face she spotted--paling and sleep-slack (spirits, please let it just be sleep) against a bloodied stone.

She does not know how she finds the strength to lift him. It feels like the wind itself sweeps her off her feet and carries her to the carriage, but--the spirits are in a fury, so that can't be right, can it? Desperate, frightened, she looses the horses from their ties and they careen through the forest, the air turning thick with mist all around them as they flee.

Her home shuts her out like a slamming door, and all she can do is watch as the north woods disappear--

--Iduna wakes with a start.

The eerie ethereal light of the aurora casts pale shadows against the bedroom walls; Iduna sits up and tries to catch her breath as Agnarr slumbers beside her.

Just a dream, she reminds herself, but it's not. It's the past. The truth.

It's been a long time since she let herself think about it. She's not sure what possessed Agnarr to tell the girls that story; it's knocked her off her equilibrium and sent her reeling. Disturbed the quiet of her carefully-constructed denial.

He wouldn't have told it if he'd known it would upset her.

He couldn't have known it would upset her, since he doesn't know who she is.

What she is.

They've been looking together, for ages now, into what could possibly have caused Elsa to be born with her gifts. He obsesses over books of lore and ancient myth; every now and again, she pretends to just happen to find a scrap of knowledge from her own people. It scares him, what Elsa can do--though he tries to mask the fear. His father had tried to help contain the magic of the north, and all he did was throw it into anarchy. Agnarr still dreams of that day, too, she knows--of the rivers roiling and the ground splintering and the fires burning all around.

"What if that happens to Elsa?" he'd asked her once, quiet and desperate, when he couldn't quiet his anxieties. They can picture it all too easily. Elsa, torn apart from within by her own ice. Her magic turning against her for reasons they can't understand. They do their best, every day, to seek balance, calm, composed harmony. Not the easiest task in the world when Anna is a creature of such extremes, and Elsa endeared to her every whim, but they do what they can. What other choice do they have?

Out of nowhere--as if she dreamed it--Elsa's voice breaks the silence.

"Anna!"

No. Surely not. Surely an echo of her own worry, her nightmare not quite faded--

"MAMA! PAPA!"

Agnarr leaps to his feet, awake in an instant, and Iduna chases after him--more swiftly than she thought it was possible to run. As though the wind itself is at her back, urging her forward.

Agnarr has to brace himself and slam against the door once, twice, three times before he's able to break through the iced-over hinges and enter the ballroom. The room is covered in sinister spikes; at its center, Elsa cradles Anna in her arms.

As if from underwater, Iduna can hear Agnarr's voice--"Elsa, what have you done? This is getting out of hand!"--but her eyes are on her baby girl.

She's never seen her so still. Not in her whole life.

"Anna...!"

Elsa wails as they wrest Anna from her grasp, the temperature falling by degrees. "It was an accident, I'm sorry, Anna--"

They rush to Agnarr's office. He's a human tornado, now, grabbing maps and supplies and ancient tomes. He needs to keep his hands busy, needs to feel as though he can still do something. Iduna can't help but be caught up in his wake, but when she turns around to check behind her, to make sure Elsa's followed them--she's nowhere.

"Elsa?!"

She retraces her steps, until the sound of sobbing catches her ear. She follows the voice until she finds Elsa in a bathroom off the west wing, washing her hands.

There's--

There's blood on her hands.

"Elsa, my darling--"

Iduna rushes over and pulls Elsa away from the sink; the water is so scalding hot that Iduna can feel it from even that distance. Elsa's hands are cracked and chapped from the violent combination of heat and cold, bloodied in her desperation--and yet even now, as Iduna watches, the hoarfrost creeps over Elsa's fingers, encasing them in ice once more.

"It won't go away, Mama, I can't get it off. It won't melt, I can't stop it, I don't know what to do," Elsa cries, throwing the whole weight of her tiny body into Iduna's embrace, and all Iduna can do is hold her.

Eight. Her daughter is eight.

"Is Anna okay?" Elsa sobs, small shoulders shaking, and she doesn't have an answer for her.

"She will be," Iduna murmurs, cuddling Elsa close even as the chill radiates off her in frigid waves. "She will be."

She shivers.

[marimancusi]

Spent the afternoon at BookPeople (the best bookstore in Austin, TX) delivering “book cake” and signing copies of Dangerous Secrets! Of course I had to wear an Iduna mask!