Elsa Greentext Dump

>Elsa recently "hired you" to assist her in her laboratory.
>Really you just wanted to spend more time with her while she's away, and she offered this as a compromise.
>Thankfully, most tasks are simple, asking you to fetch items or throw switches / press buttons across the room because she's quite slow.
>Obviously not mentally, but physically.
>Normally it'd take four times as long for her to do something, then return to her original position than the amount of time it'd take for you to do.
>However, occasionally she'd ask you to do something you're not too keen on doing.
>Sometimes she works her arms off, almost quite literally, and has you help with reattaching the limbs to her flesh.
>You've gotten good at stitching though.
>Worse of all though is when her current project involves living creatures, as she often asks you for help with retrieving organs from bodies.
>She'll help you find it and direct you to cut it out properly, even with preserving it after the dirty job was done, but you can never get used to the stench of death and the filthy mess of it all.
>You have to try your hardest not to puke, pass out, or have your hands shake involuntarily, sometimes all at the same time.
>She pokes fun at you for being squeamish, giggling as she watches.
>Every now and then though, when she asks you to go up to fetch her something to drink, you return to find her fast asleep on her work table.
>Arms cushioning her head, she snores gently next to her unfinished work, frequently staying up far into the night and forgetting to retire to bed.
>You put the drink across the table for her to find once she wakes up, and cover her in a blanket you put in the closet for her.
>You wish you could help bring her to her bed, but she's far too heavy for you to lift, especially to carry up the many stairs leading up out of the lab.
>You hope it suffices each time.
>Giving a small peck on her cheek, you turn off most of the bright lights and head back upstairs.

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>Elsa's been pressured more and more recently by the other girls into getting a date
>"It's fun!" they say. "You'll love it!" they say. "You totally wont get ditched after he gets one good look at you, running away in the dead of night leaving you alone and sad! Like all of the other times you've been on a date!" they say
>"I'd sooner sink to the bottom of the Arctic Ocean than go on another." Elsa mutters to herself, lying down on the sofa as she looks out the window
>'Besides,' she thought to herself, 'I can have way more fun at home, and I don't even need another person! They'll just bring me down! Like...'
>Several seconds go by in silence
>'Television? No... Basketball? No, the others aren't even into that, except Phanty and she cheats. Plus that's not something I can do alone...'
>She groans as she tries to think
>'Writing? Haven't had a good idea in weeks. Drawing? Too sloppy. Come on, I know this is easy to answer!'
>Frowning, she thumps the pillow with her fist and says "Screw it! I'm going back to work. I need something to do."
>Getting up, she grabs her lab coat and removes the candle next to the bookshelf, flipping open to reveal a secret passage
>Just before entering, she hears a series of heavy knocks echo through the halls
>Putting the candle back, she stomps out of her room towards the entrance grumbling to herself
>'I swear, if it's them wanting to get me another boy, I'll toss them out the damn gate.'
>Swiftly pulling the large doors open, she yells out "What?!"
>"Oh crap! I'm, uh, sorry, is this a bad time?" a frightened Anon asks, taken aback by Elsa's frustration.
>"Anon?" Elsa asks, her scowl softening into surprise. "What are you doing here?"
>"I... just wanted to check with you, see how you were doing. Are you OK?"
>"No, no, I'm fine, just... stressed. About work." Elsa responds, brushing her hair with her hand
>"Oh, phew, good. You, uh, want to do something? Get your mind off of it?"
>Elsa smiles. "I'd love to."

>You couldn't think of anything to do
>Despite all of the activities you had going on in your head, you couldn't think of a single thing to do with him
>Anon suggested just talking, maybe watch TV with you
>It's better than anything you possibly could have thought of
>You're both sitting on opposite sides of the couch, the television playing some comedy show you didn't catch the name of
>During commercial breaks, he'd ask you questions, stuff like "What are you working on?", "What's your favorite cartoon?", or "Want to hear about what happened this morning?"
>It's relaxing
>Even just watching Anon is soothing
>How he slightly bobs his body when he laughs, the way he relaxes on the couch with one arm on his lap and the other spread across the top of the sofa, or that slight smile he makes as he continues to watch the television, unaware of your obsessive studying
>The other girls pester you into going further with him and date, but you don't want to take the risk. It'd probably end up like the other "dates", after one meeting or several, you'll never hear from them again.
>Even if he's OK with your... looks, who knows what could go wrong
>Just being here with him is fine
>Eventually, he looks at his phone and finds out how late it is
>Following him to the door, he says "Thanks for letting me hang out, it was fun."
>"Yeah, it was." you respond with a tired smile, wishing he could have stayed just a bit longer.
>"And hey, Elsa. I met Sibella and Winnie the other day."
>Wait, what?
>He rubs the back of his neck, "They talked about how we've been friends for a year or so, and..."
>They fucking did not
>You can spot a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he continues, "...well, they talked to me and, I thought it was a good idea too, but do you..."
>Please no
>"Do you want to go on a date with me? Maybe this Friday?"
>Both of your hearts are pumping harder than when they were struck by lightning
>He's waiting for your answer
>You're too frightened to even stammer

>You're not sure how to describe what you're feeling right now
>A small part of you is giddy over Anon asking, your ears and cheeks burning a bright pink
>While the majority is fear, panic, despair, and many other negative emotions mixed into one blend
>Your two hearts beat faster than ever, you still haven't said a word
>Anon's beginning to look worried
>"Elsa? Elsa, are you alright?"
>You can't say yes, because it'll lead to him leaving your life. Maybe after one day, maybe after a month. You don't have any interesting hobbies or quirks or anything like the other girls, and he'll find out sooner or later
>Anon's looking more worried. It's been a full minute since he asked you out on a date
>"Oh man, this is upsetting you, I'm sorry. Look, we can just forget about this, OK?"
>Neither of you will forget. He's bound to ask again later on, and if not, your friendship with him may wane quickly. You may still see him from time to time, but your encounters will be short lived, leaving only a bitter taste in reminiscence of better times
>You can't decline him either for the same reason
>'Oh Lord, how am I to answer him?!'
>"Elsa, I'm sorry, I'll just... go home." Anon says, turning to leave. "You have a goodni-"
>"Y-y-y..." you start to stammer, Anon turning back to face you
>"Y-y-ye-yes, tha-that'd b-be l-l-l-lovely, Anon." you finally answer
>Anon's look of worry turns to happiness. "Oh, great! I can come over at 8 PM if you want. We can go get dinner or watch a movie, or anything you want to do."
>"Y-yeah." you respond, head slowly nodding shakily
>"Well, I'll see you this Friday, alright? You have a good night Elsa."
>"G-g-go-good ni-night, A-Anon."
>With a warm smile, he closes the door. Through the thick metal, you hear a muffled sigh, followed by a happy cheer
>You feel sick enough to puke your organs out
>'What have I done?'

>That mixture of emotions hasn't left you since Tuesday
>Anon's should be here at any minute, but here or not, you will still feel queasy and dreading the worst of it all
>Not bothering to find something to preoccupy yourself, you just sit and wait near the doors for his arrival
>Sure enough, Anon shows
>He gives you a warm smile, saying "Hey Elsa! Ready to head out?"
>You try and return the smile, but instead appear as if you don't want to leave
>"Yeah, let's go."
>You haven't been out in quite a while, so you let Anon pick where to eat. He chose a Mexican restaurant
>You could barely eat, but Anon seemed to enjoy his food
>Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him looking... worried, as you both were leaving
>"Want to watch a movie? We can go to the theater or your home, if you want."
>You tell him you'd prefer to watch it at home, and soon enough you were both settled on the couch watching Anon's movie: Princess Bride
>He's much closer to you than normal
>Then somewhere after Wesley reunites with Buttercup for the first time, he taps you on the shoulder
>"Elsa, are you... OK with kisses?" he asks sheepishly
>None of the other dates had kissed you so far nor asked. This is new territory
>"I, uh... yes?" you respond, Anon smiling at your answer. He scoots closer to you, head close to yours
>You have no idea what to do
>Hesitating for a few seconds, you move your head closer
>For a moment you wish lasted far longer, he gave a quick kiss to your lips
>He stays close to you, returning to watching the movie with a small grin
>You can feel a fire overtaking you
>It is a good burning
>Slowly, you forget your worries and enjoy Anon's company for the rest of the movie
>After the movie, he leaves for home and wishes you another goodnight
>Indeed, for you rested quite well that night

>His kiss was quite divine
>Even in the morning, you still feel giddy and warm from it, despite being just a quick peck on the lips
>You almost can't wait for the next date, the dread you once had now pushed aside
>Three days later, you get a phone call. It's Anon
>"Hey Elsa, you mind if I come over? I... thought we should talk about something." he says. You detect a slight hint of melancholy in his voice
>"Yeah Anon, you can come." you answer
>He thanks you and hangs up, already you start to worry
>Is he going to break up with you? After only one date?
>Half an hour later, Anon's at the doors
>You invite him in, he looks how he sounded on the phone
>"What's wrong, Anon?" That feeling you had when he first asked you out returns
>"Listen... I know I should ask this later on, but..." he says, arms crossed as he looks down the corner of his eyes
>'Please just the breakup over with now, don't stretch this out.'
>He looks back to you and asks, "Do you really want to date me?"
>'What?'
>You're relieved he isn't breaking up with you, but why is he asking this?
>"Wh-what do you mean?" you ask
>"It's just... when I asked you out, you looked like you were really forcing yourself to say yes. And when I came to pick you up, you looked like you were forcing yourself to go."
>'Oh fuck me, of course he would've noticed that'
>"And when we ate dinner, you looked almost upset. Then with the movie, you looked scared to be close to me." he continues
>'Fuck me, he saw that too'
>"It's just... I've been on a lot of bad dates, I don't want this to keep going on if you don't want to be with me."
>You need to explain to him this is just a misunderstanding
>You say the first answer that comes to your mind
>"No, I didn-"
>'OH FUCK ME WHY DID I SAY THAT'
>Anon looks crushed
>You stop yourself, stammering as you try to explain what you mean

>"No, I mean, yes, it's just- Well, I, oh God, let me start over." you continue
>Anon still looks sad over what you previously said
>You need to say this right
>'I really like you but I hate dating? No, that's awful.'
>'I was expecting the worst from the date? That'd be throwing salt on the wound.'
>'For fucks sake, just tell him!'
>Anon's starting to look confused as you try to collect your thoughts
>Finally, you answer: "I was scared."
>"What?"
>"I had... a lot of bad dates too, Anon. Almost every one of them ended the same: they just leave."
>Anon's starts to look less defeated, but still confused. He stays silent.
>"I was afraid that you'd... leave too, like they did. That's why I was the way you saw me."
>Your eyes are starting to water. A few tears well up and start to fall down your cheek
>You wipe your eyes in a vain attempt to try and save face
>"I really like being with you Anon. I didn't want you to be gone."
>Your attempts to remain calm are failing. You feel like an idiot
>Anon no longer looks sad, instead worried
>"Elsa, I'd never do that. I like you as well, and I love being over here and doing stuff with you."
>"I won't run out on you out of nowhere. I promise."
>You wrap your arms around and lift him off the ground, enveloping him in a hug
>You're smiling from ear to ear
>"Out of all of the dates I've been on, yours was the best." you tell him, tightening your hug
>You feel his arms around your back; he's returning the hug
>That warmth you felt from the kiss is back
>You don't want to let go
>
>
>
>You start to feel a tapping on your shoulder
>Anon looks to be in pain, your hug far too tight
>You release him, apologizing with a sheepish smile
>You're gonna have to be careful about that from now on
>"So Anon... When do you want to go on our second date?"

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>Your alarm clock is blaring
>You open your groggy eyes
>You reach over and turn off the clock, silencing the alarm
>It reads 8:30 AM; you got 2 and a half hours before work
>You really don't want to get out of bed, it's so incredibly warm
>Especially on your back
>You try to shift yourself to get up, but you can only wiggle in place
>That's when you notice two grey arms wrapped snugly around your torso
>You also feel breathing on the back of your neck
>Turning your head, you can just barely see Elsa spooning you in her sleep
>She has herself pressed against your back, head close to your neck with her arms keeping you in place
>Her mouth is slightly open, washing your neck with warm breath
>This only fuels your desire to stay in bed
>You start to weigh the consequences of skipping work
>It's 8:51, and you nearly fell back asleep three times now
>You decide you absolutely have to go
>You grab Elsa's arms and try prying yourself free
>No dice
>You try shifting yourself downward, maybe you can slip yourself out that way
>Nope, one of her arms is hooked beneath your top arm, you can't squeeze it through either
>Maybe you should wake her up?
>Deciding against it, you then notice her hands
>Both of them are against your stomach, her fingers visible
>Grabbing her thumb, you test lifting it up
>It works
>Slowly, you begin to pry each digit away
>Just a few more
>Elsa grunts a bit in her sleep
>She tightens her arms, pulling you closer to her while moving her hands away
>Dammit, you can't reach them now
>You'll just have to wake her-
>Wait
>What happened yesterday?
>You were shutting down your computer, that's normal
>You wave goodbye to your co-workers
>One of them says...
>Have a good weekend?
>It all comes back to you, today is Saturday
>No work today
>You sigh out of relief, your muscles relaxing as you lay your head back down on the pillow
>Tugging the covers a bit closer, you start to fall back asleep with Elsa still wrapped around you
>'I love the weekend'

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>"How the hell did this happen?!"
>Elsa's freaking out, and so are you
>She's stomping in and out of the bathroom entrance, trying to rationalize with herself
>"Maybe these are wrong, maybe they expired! That's it!" she says, going back into the bathroom
>You've been in a chair, head in hand as you think about how this could be explained
>"Dammit, no, these expire months from now..." she says, reentering the bedroom holding a pregnancy tester box
>For the past two weeks or so, Elsa was horribly ill. Nausea and vomiting for days on end.
>Elsa's been sick before, but nothing beyond the common cough and runny nose
>After the 13th day, she decided that it's too close of a coincidence for this to be occurring, and asked you to go buy a pregnancy tester
>Upon returning and giving her some privacy, she yelled out in a mix of anger and surprise, revealing a positive result
>You and Elsa have been together for a year, having already moved past all the bases, though you normally use protection
>It was about a month before the sickness that you had run out, and Elsa insisted that you're fine
>She may be alive, but she doubts it got her biological clock to ever tick, or resume ticking if she replaced a part
>Elsa's runs her hand through the white streak of her hair, muttering other possible explanations
>You ask about her parents, specifically her mother
>"No, no, Mom was... No, I didn't have a Mom, Daddy asked Frankenstein to build me." she answers
>She takes a seat in front of you, she looks scared. "Oh God, this can't be real. Uncle Frank didn't say anything about this, I know it happens with humans, but I never asked him about it."
>"I can't take care of a child, I can't do it. I can't do it. Oh God..." she quietly says, looking down at the floor with frightful eyes
>You want to refute her, tell it'll be just fine
>But you're just as scared as she is

>Elsa's been quiet for the past few minutes
>Between you and her is an ottoman with the positive tester on top
>The room is completely silent
>You don't hear the wind, the animals outside, the various sounds of the old castle and the creaks and groans of the wood, nor Elsa herself as she sits completely still
>You can almost hear your heartbeat
>"Anon..." she says, casting away the silence
>You look up, she still has her gaze fixated on the ground
>"Go... go to the store and get more. It's just... the one you got was bad. That's all it is."
>She's in denial
>"Elsa... it's not bad, getti-" you try to explain
>"Just fucking go get more, Anon!" Elsa yells, looking up to scowl at you
>You shrink back in your chair. Elsa continues to glare at you
>She wont be rationalized like this. You have to do as she says
>You get up from your chair, grabbing your wallet and car keys on the nightstand
>You look back
>Elsa stopped looking at you, instead returning her sights to the floor
>You leave for the store, solemn the whole ride to and back
>'Three boxes, six testers. This will be enough.'
>You return from the pharmacy, Elsa's not in the bedroom
>Retching noises come from the bathroom; you wait for her to finish
>Elsa returns. Her eyes are pink, her cheeks wet
>She takes the boxes without a word and goes back into the bathroom
>Half an hour goes by
>You can tell what the results were from her talking
>She reenters the bedroom, tears flowing freely
>"Th-they're all... p-positive." she mumbles
>She looks lost, not sure what to do or say, but just stand there and cry
>You get up from the chair and hug her, trying to comfort her
>Elsa breaks into sobbing, her chin on your shoulder. It starts to get wet
>You feel tears building up in your eyes too, a few escaping down your face
>You can't start crying now
>You bite your lip to try and stop yourself from going further
>You can't start shaking
>You tighten your hug, you become still
>You need to be strong
>For her

>Month 2-3
>More sickness, a third of her day is spent wasted in the bathroom
>Elsa notes how she feels "like shit" almost daily, and that she's forcing herself to work in the lab or go about her day
>At the moment, you feel relieved that you popped the question just a few months ago
>It was somewhat early in the relationship to ask, but you felt that it was the right time
>You can only imagine what would happen if you had asked for her hand now, and how her father or "uncle" would act
>Her form is softening, the abs on her stomach slowly smoothing out with each passing week
>They're still visible, but it's clear that they'll be out of sight within the oncoming months
>She also notes that her raggedy clothes feel less loose, and says that worrying about new clothes is unimportant now and that there are other things to think about
>Elsa's still scared of having a child, and so are you, but has calmed down two weeks after discovering her pregnancy
>She decides to get with you and form a logical, thought-out plan on raising the child, and wants to start with how your and her schedules should be rearranged
>"I can take time out of my lab work until you get home, but that'll hold me back by weeks or months..."
>Elsa holds a paper and has her usual schedule written down and yours as well
>"Maybe... maybe I can drop my job? Doesn't Frankenstein financially support your lab work? Maybe we can ask him to help out." you ask
>Elsa sighs, coursing her fingers through her black hair
>"I... I don't want to be a mooch. I make good use of the money he's already giving, but I don't know if he'll agree to giving more for us to live on."
>"Did you tell them about-"
>"No." she answers plainly. She pauses. "I'm still thinking about how to... tell Daddy and him."
>The schedule rearrangement was cut short a few minutes later, as she felt queasy in her stomach
>Elsa promises she'll tell them the news later
>You start to worry about their reaction

>Month 4
>Thankfully, she stopped puking and her head doesn't ache as much as before
>Her middle distended to a small bump, but still easily missed at a common glance
>Though to anyone who truly knows Elsa, they'd know something was off due to her dedication to staying fit
>You bring up her family again
>Elsa sighs and says that maybe now she should tell them
>She calls them, inviting them both for dinner next week at her home
>Elsa keeps a calm tone, but appears worried
>Once finishing, she rubs her forehead and asks your opinion on how they'll react
>You insist that it'll be just fine and that they'll be happy
>You have no damn clue
>You never talked to Frankenstein, and her father you only ever briefly talked with
>She seems calmer; you think she bought what you said
>Soon enough, the day arrived, and so too did her family, including their wives
>Elsa never mentioned Frankenstein's wife, nor does she talk about her "mother"
>You don't think you should ask her about them now though
>Dinner commences, they ask how you both are doing
>Elsa tries to stammer out an answer, but abandons her thoughts to instead say "Good."
>You nudge her with your elbow when they return to their food, raising your eyebrows as you shoot your eyes back and forth between her and her family
>She mouths 'I'm trying!'
>"Tell them soon." you whisper
>Time passes, everyone's almost done with their meals
>Elsa still hasn't said a word, appearing rather uncomfortable as she eats her food
>"Well, I think it's almost time we leave for home." Frankenstein says. "Thank you for dinner, Elsa dear."
>Elsa tries to speak up but can't find the words
>"Excuse me, but we have something to tell you all" you say, everyone's attention directed to you and Elsa
>She looks like a deer caught in headlights
>"I... I..."
>She begins to breathe heavily through her nose, exhaling through her mouth as she repeats "I"
>Finally, she stammers "I... I'm.... p-p-pregnant."

>Her family is shocked, especially Frankenstein
>He asks if she's really certain, asking what procedures she took to check
>An hour goes by of them talking, Frankenstein asking questions and Elsa answering them
>"I refuse to believe this, it's just not possible. This is some sort of... false pregnancy or something! You're coming with me, we're looking into this." he states, standing up and motioning for Elsa to follow
>Reluctantly, she stands up and follows, her mother and Frankenstein's wife tagging along
>He turns back to point at you and his creation. "You and, eh, Anon stay. We'll be back soon and show this is nothing more than a misunderstanding."
>The door shuts
>Peering out the window, you see Frankenstein's car rev to life and drive out of sight, leaving you and Elsa's father in the empty castle
>A yellowish, green hand grips your shoulder, its size large enough to cover it entirely
>You're certain that it could shatter it into pieces, almost like an egg
>"You and me. We are going to talk. Now."
>God above please save me

>Your talk with him was horrifying
>He didn't raise his voice, he didn't glare at you, attack you, scream, nothing
>He talked about how he raised Elsa, the problems he had, ones with her, his wife, Frankenstein, etc
>You felt sick to your stomach, just waiting for him to scowl at you and break out into a fit of anger
>But he remained as civil as can be, just continued talking about his daughter and how much he loves her
>What truly frightened you though, was what he said last, specifically how he said it
>"If... she is with child. And you leave... make her sad... hurt her or the child... You will die."
>He didn't change his tone
>He didn't clench his fist
>He didn't glare at you, growl the last word out, or show his wrath; he didn't do a goddamn thing
>He stayed as he was, like when he was calmly talking about Elsa
>He didn't say it in a confident manner like he'd prove it to you, he said it like it was a normal fact, as how the sky is blue or grass is green
>That if you were to do such things, you would not escape death
>And you don't fucking doubt him in the slightest
>
>
>
>They return, Frankenstein is flabbergasted
>It's confirmed, even has pictures as proof
>It is a true pregnancy, and she's bearing a child
>Frankenstein's monster towers behind you, smiling while patting your shoulder, as if congratulating you
>But you know what he truly means; he's reminding you of what he said
>You put on a happy face to hide your fear, telling them how great that is
>Frankenstein and Elsa don't share your faked enthusiasm, though the other two women do appear happy
>You had a very hard time sleeping that night

>Months go by, the pregnancy proceeds as normal
>Elsa was commanded to not overexert herself, much to her dismay
>Many nights she frets about something, asking you about the child's future while in bed
>How will it be with our two different families?
>How will it look, like myself, you, or a mix?
>Will Uncle Frank run out of money to give us to raise it?
>Will it love me?
>Will it resent me?
>Will it even live?
>She trails on to darker questions each time, and each time you have to stop and calm her before she becomes a sobbing mess
>Eventually, she had to go to hospital stay
>You left your job months ago, Frankenstein was more than willing to give her money to support you, her, and the child without compromising her working position
>Each day you stay by her side at the hospital, helping her relax when the dark thoughts come back, and just helping her pass the time
>Then, labour finally started, worse yet, while you were out getting breakfast
>You return as quickly as you could, a doctor pulls you aside near the lobby
>He says she was moved for C-Section, as the child wasn't able to be dislodged. The surgery already began, and that you could sit in the lobby and wait.
>Each minute that passed was Hell upon you
>You couldn't look at your phone, not even to check the time
>You couldn't get a cup of coffee to try and calm yourself
>You forced yourself to sit there and worry, believing that at any moment they'll call you or tell you something important
>Two hours go by, each second you spent sitting and watching the doctors walk by
>One finally stopped to see you, you feel your heart jump into your throat
>The first four words were all you needed to hear, that's all you need to know about what happened
>"I'm happy to report that it was successful. You are now the father of a healthy, baby girl. We have her cleaned up and she's in the operating room currently, and will be shortly moved to Elsa's room alongside her."
>That's all you needed to hear

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>"Anon, can you go check up on Elsa? She's not feeling herself lately..." a worried Sibella told you a few minutes ago
>You've tried looking for her, but she's not in her room nor the lab you're currently in
>You consider yelling out for her, but you notice something above: a metal table that lifts upwards to a closed gate, and near that a small latch with a ladder attached
>After finding the ladder, you move yourself upwards to the top, the last place you haven't checked
>You see Elsa near the balcony looking up at the cloud filled sky
>Once you pull yourself up, the creaking of the wood gives your position away
>She turns with in surprise. "Anon? What are you doing here?"
>"I wanted to ask the same. The others are worrying about you." you answer
>She gives a slight smile "Oh, I'm- I'm fine. Tell them I'm OK." she says quietly, turning back to look at the clouds
>You don't leave. Instead you stand beside her. "Is something wrong?"
>She sighs, rubbing the back of her neck as she looks down at the ground
>"It's... What I'm doing, you know? As a scientist." she answers
>You stay quiet
>"I know that Frankenstein started off hated and worked his way to being well respected but... He always had these great ideas, and I want to be just like him, but..."
>"What if I don't have any? What if I just... stop coming up with good inventions? Good theories, plans, ideas?"
>"What use will I be then? What good am I if I can't follow in his legacy? Or surpass it? I'll just be useless. Junk. Garbage!" she slams her fist on the handrail
>"Hey!" you exclaim, making Elsa look to you
>"You wont be useless, junk, or garbage. And you never will be. You're a great scientist, and you'll be greater as time goes on."
>You're not sure what else to tell her, but she brightens up at your response
>"Thanks Anon, I... needed to hear that." she says, looking to the clouds with a small smile
>You stay out there with her for a few more minutes before you both head back inside

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>Anon feels ready to die now
>The half marathon run was bad enough, but now she wants him to go directly into crunches and pushups
>500. Each.
>He came to Elsa to try and get swole
>He fully accepted the idea of dealing with a painful workout, and took up Elsa's usual routine
>Apparently this isn't even the first tenth of her usual workout, and has barely gotten halfway through the beginning of it all
>He was finishing his crunches at an amazing speed of 1 crunch per minute, and has only gotten 63 done by trying to speed through it
>At least he thinks; focusing on just breathing is making it hard to remember what numbers are
>Panting, he looks over to Elsa
>She's still keeping the steady pace she started at while counting to herself in German
>Her body shines in the morning light from the slight amount of sweat coating her body
>With each lift and fall of her body, he can see her discolored abs flex and relax
>'Good lord, I could grate solid steel on them.'
>"Stop looking at me and keep going!" she shouts out, breaking Anon from his studying
>Anon does as he's told and resumes his fruitless attempts to do more crunches
>Several more minutes and water breaks go by, he just couldn't help but keep looking at Elsa
>So far, he's gotten 145 or so crunches and is still dead tired
>Elsa stops her crunches
>Is she getting a water break?
>She flips over and starts doing pushups
>'Christ, how long was I mucking about?'
>As before, he tries to resume his crunches and took regular "breaks" to look at her
>Like her crunches, she doesn't go incredibly fast like Anon tried but maintains a steady speed
>He looks at her muscular arms before drifting aside to something more interesting
>Her chest hangs down to the ground, pressing against it repeatedly as she drops to the ground then rises back up
>It's almost hypnotizing, nearly making him forget what he was doing if he didn't notice Elsa looking straight at him
>'Oh fuck how long was she looking at me'

>Straying his eyes away, it doesn't take much longer for Elsa to finish her pushups
>Hearing her footsteps near him, she towers over Anon still working on his crunches
>"It seems you're too... distracted to take this seriously." Elsa tells him, wiping sweat off her forehead
>He slowly gets up from the ground, body screaming for him to stop moving
>"Listen... I'm sorry... but I just can't keep up..." Anon says, trying to avoid any mention that he was ogling her
>"At this rate, you'll probably wont get as muscular as you want till... Maybe years from now."
>Her hand grabs Anon's shoulder and she gives him a smile "But I think I know a way to make it much, MUCH faster."
>Anon returns the smile, and Elsa asks him to follow to her lab
>Along the way, he continues his studying from behind
>She's only wearing a sports bra on her torso, revealing all of the finer muscles on her back
>Even relaxed it looks leagues above his own bony back
>Certain spots he saw were of different color and sewed in place with the others
>He wonders if she gained these muscles somehow in a natural way, or had them implanted and these routines are to keep them in shape
>His own curiosity got the best of him once again, he just had to look down
>Glancing up to make sure she wasn't looking at him this time, he studies her backside
>It's as shapely as any other woman's, but through her walking he can see the muscle there too despite the pants
>It doesn't shake in the slightest and appears as firm as the muscles on her arm and legs down
>He notices that Elsa's stopped moving and - Oh god fucking dammit she noticed again
>As soon as his eyes connect with hers, she turns back forward to the door to open it, not saying a word, but he could notice something this time
>Anon couldn't tell earlier if her face was a darker shade from the first part of her routine, but he can definitely confirm now: she's blushing

>After an incredibly awkward, silent trip, they finally reached her lab
>She leads him to a different door, one he hasn't been into yet
>Inside was what looked to be like something out of a sci-fi torture chamber
>A metal box with one wall being only bars, the top decorated with circular metal... things, with wires leading down into the death box
>All with the appealing color of dark, moldy yellow
>"This is something I've worked on a few years ago for a client of Frankenstein's." Elsa explains
>"It sends an electric current through the metal to... Uh... Stimulate the muscles, in a loose sense. Supposedly helps with living longer, but I haven't tested that."
>"I wont shock you to death, it's just something to maybe speed your progress up a bit. Just get in and I'll start."
>Anon starts to weigh his options
>Nevertheless, he steps in and the bars close behind him
>A console Elsa works on out of side hums to life, and after a few minutes she asks "Are you ready?"
>Anon shouts out a yes
>All he could feel was pain
>Electricity coursed through his body, he gripped onto the metal bars and started to scream
>"I'm turning it off!" Elsa shouts in a mix of worry and fear
>The pain doesn't stop; the electricity still continues
>It begins to burn more strongly
>Anon hears Elsa slamming on the console, but it still doesn't stop
>He can hear her stomp towards the machines side and her tearing out wires and cords
>The electricity disappears and Anon slumps to the ground
>Elsa throws open the gate, repeating sorry in a frantic tone
>Anon groans, but slowly recollects himself
>He reaches down to stand himself up and...
>'Huh' he thought, looking at his bony, slightly flabby arm
>It doesn't look that flabby anymore
>Shakily, he stands and tells Elsa, but she denies him from using the machine ever again, even if it could work
>"Can I still workout with you though? Maybe not your routine, but..." Anon asks
>Elsa smiles and says "You're more than welcome to."

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>Anon tries to bring an intoxicated Elsa back home, practically dragging her along the way. When Anon finally makes it her bed and tries to get Elsa to rest, her Horny™ lobe activates as Anon finds himself pinned against the wall with her terrifying strength, smelling her alcohol-ridden breath. Shenanigans ensue.

>Alcohol is your worst enemy, though it's not to you yourself, but to Elsa
>Despite what she insists, she cannot handle her alcohol whenever she goes out every so often for "a girls night out" with her old friends
>Near every time you're asked to come in and help the hulking woman home, as she refuses to budge once she gets properly lit to anyone else but you
>Tonight was no different as you entered the bar
>Elsa continues to nurse from a large mug close to empty with golden brew, her tongue lapping at the drink like a bear trying to nab the last drop of honey from a hive
>The tiny werewolf woman tries to pull her out of her chair, but like all the other times, fails to shift the stitched-together woman an inch
>The pale, purple skinned lady of the group thanks you again for coming and leaves you to collect your girlfriend
>Elsa greets you with a hearty smile and messy slur of a statement, says her goodbyes to her friends, then lifts her mug up high and finishes the last of her drink before slamming it down onto the table with a loud crash
>The vampire once again promises you she'll pay for the mug and lets you slowly escort her back home
>The trip was as slow as always, her large figure making her determine the exact speed of the pace as you try to drag and pull her by her thick, muscular arm down the sidewalk
>More often than not she would come to a dead stop to look at something, giving you whiplash as she tugs you back to her as she drunkenly rambles about whatever caught her attention
>Your best friend in these times are more often than not said rambling, as she's too distracted talking to stop and halt progress
>Tonight was a lucky night for you, as you made it back on pretty good time
>The stairs were still a nightmare to help her through, but it was the final obstacle between her and her bed to cross
>After many sloppy steps, she makes it up for you to drag to her bed
>"Hhhhhehheh...." she chuckles dryly
>"Yyyyou know thhheee... girrrls and I werrrre talkin' 'bout... That speesshal little... Würrrrstchen of our boyysss..."
>You never did like it when she spoke German, let alone the teasing giggles she gives you when you ask just what it was she was talking about
>You tell her again of your lack of German knowledge, to which she laughs and responds, "I thhhhink you do knowww... It's littttle Winnie's favorrrite food and all."
>You don't know anything about her werewolf friend either, though you thought it was uncooked steaks or something
>Regardless, you don't respond and slowly escort her to bed
>With gentle persuasion (as you sincerely doubt you could ever actually force her to do anything), you lay her down onto her bed
>She turns her head to look up at you, her mouth wide open as she stares into your eyes
>"You lllloook... Ohhh, my bärrrrchen... You look sooo beautifullll tonight."
>You smile and half-heartedly return the compliment as you try to bring the covers over her
>Before you could cover her past her chesr, her hand gently grips your wrist
>"Noo, Anon... Yyyou... Are betterrr than how I can ever llloook."
>She sometimes reaches this low about herself, fearing that she looks ugly or how she should be "better" for you
>You run your hand through her black hair and go through the usual, "You are always beautiful to me no matter what you think of yourself" you find yourself saying whenever she acts like this
>But rather than her quietly thanking you and leaning up to kiss you, she sits up in bed
>In the dim light leaking through the windows, you can see a red tint on her cheeks, though if it was from the drink or something else is beyond you
>"Do yyyou... reallly mean it?" she slurs.
>You once again confirm and lean down to attempt to kiss her on her forehead, but you're stopped as she comes to a rise
>After you take a few steps back, her strong hand takes your shoulder to keep you in place as she bends down to interlock your lips to hers
>Her warm lips comfort you, though the touching moment is hindered by the strong drink lingering on her tongue invading your mouth as she holds the embrace for a long time
>You try to step back to catch your quickly vanishing breath, but with each step she maintains the kiss with her own step forward until you hit the wall with your back
>Your nose is beginning to be filled with the scent of alcohol, nearly gagging you as breathing becomes near impossible, until she finally breaks away
>You quickly gulp in air to your starved lungs, Elsa seemingly ignorant of your near choking
>"Anooon... Anon...." she drunkenly coos. "I... I want... I want yyyou, tonight."
>You don't conaider yourself a very astute fellow, though this was a message even your impaired self could understand
>Made worse since the message is being sent home as she dips a hand down your pants and begins to "feel around"
>"Hhhhheheheheh... I thhhhink yyyooou might have a biggerrr... Hehehehhh... Tool than Winnie saysssh her 'bone' is..."
>You can't deny that the "attention" she's giving you is nice, but you know that continuing past this with her as drunk as she is will be a recipe for disaster
>You try to raise your voice to object, but she cuts your voice out as she presses her lips against yours again, all the while her hand is still tucked into your pants
>The struggle to free yourself intensifies as she starts to slowly drag you back to bed while maintaining her grip and kiss
>It's only after several long seconds of no air and a few steps away from the bed that you finally find your breath
>You try to step away, pushing your hands against her chisled midsection as you tell her to stop
>Her hurt expression nearly broke you as you try to collect yourself to speak
>You repeat yourself, saying that you can't "go there" now while she's drunk
>Tears threaten to fall from her eyes, to which you quickly add that you're more than fine talking to her about this tomorrow when she's not drunk
>She starts to stammer, no doubt to ask if it is because of the drink or herself, to which you answer her early
>You reassure her and tell her again how you find her beautiful, but she starts to speak with a trembling lip
>"I... I wanted a drrrink to... Get thhhe nerve to asssk... Ffffuck... Why am I sssuch a ffffuck-up."
>You kiss her on her forehead and attempt to hug her, all while trying to console her and say how you don't think she's a fuck up
>After a few wet sniffs and breaths in, she returns the hug and mutters "Thhhank you, Anon..."
>You break the hug and smile at her, hoping to help her move past this one incident and calm her down
>You gently lead her to bed and help her settle in, giving her one last kiss before telling her goodnight
>"Goodnight, Anon..."
>You give her one last smile before leaving the room, the expectations of tomorrows talk no doubt going to weigh over your mind heavily tonight and tomorrow morning
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>This is a delicate situation you find yourself in
>You never thought it was this bad of a problem until now, made worse by your lackluster responses
>"I think it's fine already."
>"Yeah, it looks OK."
>"You look alright to me."
>Inadequacy has been settling deep into Elsa like an invasive maggot, your mild answers from before provoking her to seek perfection in every facet of her body through asking you long questions about her body and looks to finally determine what you love and hate
>All the while she reassures you that she will replace anything repugnant about herself, despite your knowing of the long, painful process of replacing her "living" flesh with that from the recently deceased
>But, you've begun to notice a pattern she inadvertently reveals in her questions
>She seems ashamed of the muscle mass she has, always referring to "more delicate parts and cadavers", none of which fitting the body she has had from since before you've met her
>You decide to ask her directly to cry and determine if you are correct
>She begins to stammer and ramble, confirming your suspicions as she tries to save face
>An embarrassed blush begins to develop across her face, the spread of red across her pale cheeks spreading like wildfire as her eyes dart between you and the mirror across the room
>Her thumbs twitch and fumble with the other, a part of you worried she'll somehow pop each digit off out of nervousness at the speed she's going
>You decide to put a stop to it as you reach over and rest your hand on top of hers
>Silence immediately fills the air as her bashful rambling is cut short, her eyes now still and focused on your own
>You decide to counter her own long rambling with your own, listing each and every feature of hers that you love
>Her black, curly hair
>The spark in her eyes (making her give a small laugh)
>The hands you're holding
>The shape of her body
>And you end it all with her muscles
>You run your hand along the dips and curves of her arm from her wrist to her shoulder, paying close attention to the sharp breath she takes in and the way her pupils shrink ever so slightly as your fingertips glide on her skin
>You run down her ribs along her shirt, down to her abdomen and hips, where you then bring your hand past the fabric of her shorts and begin to mention her legs
>Your fingertips ever so briefly dance along her inner thigh, causing an even more noticeable, sharp gasp as you quickly trail down to the strong muscle of her calves
>All in all, it was a brief observation of her body
>You never really was good with words, especially on the fly and coming straight from your mouth
>But thankfully, this is one of the few times you said something right as she surprises you with a tight hug and rests her head onto your shoulder
>After your momentary shock, you return the hug and give her a brief peck to her neck, all as you hear her say
>"Thank you, Anon. I love you."

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>She wants to big spoon you because the heat and softness of your skin is addictive
>It was awkward at first due to your naked back being able to feel each seam and separation of body part
>Especially so with her own body being several degrees lower in temperature to yours, more often than not causing you to jump and gasp when she presses against your body, but you come to get used to it after several minutes of contact
>Her arms wrap around you and hold you close, enveloping you in a strange mix of cool and warm with her body and the blanket atop both of you
>This thirst for contact has even spread to the day, where she often takes your hand within her large hand in a snug grip
>Her thumb rubs against the bumps and curves of your flesh, as if she was exploring your skin as she remains preoccupied with her work or whatever leisurely activity you egged her into doing as a break from said work
>At first you were worried she was testing you out for some form of experiment, though you've come to accept it as her method of relieving stress
>Especially when each night she strips down to cuddle she rests her head on top of yours and lets loose a long sigh, finishing with a brief, low hum before she falls asleep