I really like the idea of Elsa and Pitch being father and daughter, especially in the world of 'More Than A Bird, More Than A Plane (MTAB)', so I ended up writing this drabble, which takes place before the events of MTAB. I might write more such drabbles in the future if I get the inspiration. Why I write them separately from the main story because these probably don't have much relevance to the main story or I can't fit it in.

You don't need to read MTAB to read this. All you need to know are these facts:

1. It's Modern AU, with Gangster/Superhero elements. In this drabble series, the Superhero part would not that prominent as it focuses on the time Elsa grows up (which is like at 20).

2. The story takes place in a fictional country called Ameripan, which is a mash of America and Japan. Yes, this is inspired by the movie Big Hero 6. That is why Pitch is the head of a Yakuza (a Japanese crime syndicate) and they live in a town called 'Burgeshima' (Burgess mashed with Hiroshima).

3. Pitch and Elsa have powers. You might guess where the Superhero element comes in.

4. MTAB is a Rise of the Brave Tangled Frozen Dragons story, many other Disney/Dreamworks characters crossing over. For this drabble series though, the focus is on Elsa and Pitch, so other crossovers characters are likely not to come in much.

5. Anna exists. Where is she? To know that, you have to read MTAB. Sorry.

6. If there's more info you should know before reading the drabble, I'll write it there.

I'll try not to give any major spoilers for MTAB, but if they do turn up, I will flag a warning before the drabble.

For all my effort in writing this, I might just write one drabble in the end. I'm actually busy with settling down in school. Well, enjoy.

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Drabble 1: Monsters

Takes place sometime when Elsa's around 15.

Warning: Some mentions of suicide

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She was cold.

It was an odd sensation. She usually produced cold. In a matter of fact, she produced it far more than she would have liked. Anyhow, it had been a sensation that she had been so used to creating that experiencing it was a novel sensation.

When she opened her eyes, she found that she was in her room. Clean, fresh duvets had been tucked in around her and her head was propped against a pillow. She tried to push herself off the covers but for some reason, she could not move, only shudder. Exhaustion weighed her bones down, keeping nailed to the bones and she let a wheeze of frustration.

"Stop that," she heard a curt voice slicing through the silence. "You're going to hurt yourself."

She heard the scraping off a chair against the floorboards, followed by steady steps approaching her. A gaunt face came into view, gazing down at her in a manner could only contempt. Yet, instead of shrinking away, she felt an odd sense of comfort with under the golden eyes and as he had instructed, she stopped struggling.

Still with his hands locked behind him, he asked her, "What do you want?"

Swallowing, she realised how dry her throat was. "Water."

Wordlessly, he left the horizons of her vision and suddenly she felt weak and frightened all over again. Where had he gone? It was only when she heard the clink of glass against metal that she managed to steady her heart once again. She closed her eyes, listening to the soft splashes, allowing them to soothe her. She then heard the steps against the floorboards once again, and she opened her eyes again. From the corner of her vision, she noted that he set the glass on the bedside table, before moving over back to the bed.

"You need to sit up," he told her coldly. "You'll spill everything otherwise."

Elsa tried move herself, bending her stiff arms and digging them under her, trying to push herself up, but she didn't have to strength. Sinking back against the mattress, she whimpered, "I can't."

"You can," he contradicted flatly.

She attempted to pull herself up, pushing hard against the covers, messing them up in the process while trying not to press on the tubes buried in her wrists but coming no nearer to her goal than before. "I can't."

"Well, then you're going to die of thirst," was his only reply. He folded his arms, expression bland. "Of course, maybe that's your goal."

She creased her forehead, barely able to croak out, "W-what?"

"I mean,-" he tilted his head towards her, the impassivity breaking a little to reveal anger, only to slide back under a mask in the next moment, "-you did try to kill yourself."

Oh. Now she remembered. The brown liquid. The exchange of money. The false promises. The unexpected dizziness. The collapse.

Before she could so much as protest, she felt him grab her jaw, forcing her to look straight at him. Already, the self-control in his expression was already crumbling by the way his eyes glowed. "Do you remember how my wife died?"

She shook her head.

"She killed herself." He let her go roughly, scraping a nail against her skin as he did, making her wince.

"I wasn't-" she gagged, coughing hollowly at the same time at the dry sensation. She felt his bony hands hook under her armpits, hauling her forcefully up such that she was sitting straight. Of course, she couldn't keep herself up, flopping quite ungracefully backwards again. Fortunately, he was quick to catch her this time, holding her up with one hand and readjusting the pillows behind her. Now she could lean back without falling over. He then moved away to fetch her the glass of water, placing it into her shaking hand, only his grip on her once he was certain that she wouldn't drop it.

She set it against her lips and drank. It was like heaven to her parched throat. She tilted the glass upwards and swallowed more.

"You're not allowed to kill yourself," he went on, taking the glass from her when she had drunken all she could. Already, the liquid at the bottom of the container had frozen, and tiny cracks had begun to appear along its side. Instead of setting it back on the table, he drew his arm back and flung the glass at wall, not even bothering to look as the object exploded into dozens of shimmering fractals. Elsa wasn't overtly worried about it - she knew that he would have it cleaned up later. He turned back to her. His expression was still severe, but it did not appear that he was still infuriated. "I spent too much money trying to bring you up."

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," she insisted more forcefully, now that she had regained her voice.

He peered down at her unbelievingly. "Oh?"

"I didn't know what the drug would do." She met his gaze unflinchingly.

"So you just stuck it into your veins for the fun of it," he said sarcastically, the corners of his thin lips downturned.

"I thought it was something else." She glanced away, pursing her lips together. "It turned out that I was mistaken."

"What did you think it was then?"

Elsa's eyes were trained on her covers. She hadn't noticed it till now, but everything around her was coated in ice. The covers, the paintings, the lamps, even the curtains. Her heart sank. She should have known that it would never work. It was just a lie that she wanted to believe.

She felt him grip her shoulder, fingers like talons against the flesh. "I asked you a question."

She dipped her head down, saying in a low voice, "I thought it could take it away from me." She stared gloomily at the snow-coated room. "All of it."

She dared not meet his gaze. She could already feel his smouldering eyes burning into her skull, and anticipated the crescendo as he screamed, "YOU WHAT?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her towards him. Shaking her so hard that the IV rack started to rattle as well. "YOU STUPID, INCONSIDERATE, IRRESPONSIBLE GIRL!" He threw her back so hard that she almost tumbled off the bed. Pacing the room in fury, he grappled for words, balling his fist so tight that his pale skin looked paler than ever. Shadows grew around him, flickering closer and closer around. "Are you - how could you - you - you!" He glowered at her, teeth clenched.

"Is it so wrong to want to be normal?"

Her quiet words cut through his rant, breaking them back into silence. Startled, he checked himself, taking in a breath. The shadows retreated, fleeing the light once more. He gave her a sidelong look, which she dared not to return, merely adjusting her arms such that the tubes on wrist could fit more comfortably.

She felt the bed shift on her side as he sat down, eyes still boring into. She knew that he was trying to read her the way he read other people, but it never worked. Most of the time, she was glad of it. He had such a way of making even the strongest shake, and she was fragile enough to crack at the slightest tremor. Yet, there were times that she wished she could convey her deepest fears to him without needing to courage to confess. She stared down at her hands. The hands, that a single touch, could turn water in ice.

Finally, he spoke, "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be normal, but there is a grave error in trying to escape what you are." When she did not answer, he carried on, voice grave, harsh and grating "No matter how much you want it to go away, it won't. It's your curse and your blessing; your burden and your privilege. It's who you are."

"So that's it then," she murmured bitterly, wrapping her arms around herself. She wished that she could put her gloves back on. She was already freezing up the IV packs. "I'll forever be a monster."

"Don't flatter yourself," her father scoffed, peering at the creeping darkness below his feet, stretching hungrily towards the light. "You're hardly the only one around."

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