CONTENT RATING Gen
CATEGORY N/A
CONTENT WARNING Implied Child Abuse
FANDOM Ace Attorney
RELATIONSHIPS N/A
CHARACTERS Franziska von Karma
TAGS Trans Female Character
SUMMARY
The prosecuting prodigy chooses a name for herself, and reminisces her past along the way.
WORD COUNT 298
PUBLISHED Sep 01, 2014
NOTES
So this is my first ever trans fic, and even though it's really short I hope you enjoy it! I'm currently working on a trans girl Maya Fey one and that will definitely be longer than this one so watch out for that! I might write another trans Franziska fic, actually. Maybe.
Also if I made any mistakes please call me out as I'm DFAB. Thanks!
“Franziska. Franziska von Karma,” she mutters repeatedly in front of a mirror and then she is confident that this name belongs to her. This refreshing certainty washes over her, for in her past she lived her life on her toes, scared and wary.
Her hands hover over her past belongings with reluctance. A photo of her and her little brother Miles. She winces at her young face, the face of a boy she no longer recognizes. The photo is thin and crisp and it’s easier for her to tear apart.
The prosecutor’s badge she had earned when she was thirteen. It’s smooth and full of nostalgia when she touches it, and she remembers avidly polishing it every morning. It was evidence of her own genius, for no one else had accomplished her feats. She’s about to pin the badge on her when she hesitates and places it in her pocket instead.
Her riding crop, with which she reluctantly caused bodily harm to others, for she had thought her words alone were threatening enough. She smiles, and she gently strokes the whip she had just acquired. This is her protection and she will use it willingly. No more hesitation. No more harm.
She settles into her new name with eagerness, tossing away old bits of herself. She erases her memories of her bruises and scars, and the shrill voice of a man who called himself her father. She removes herself from the unsafe place she once called home and into the sound safety of her apartment. And then she burns it all. Every bit of it, gone.
She closes her eyes and relishes this moment she has long awaited. She whispers her name repeatedly: “Franziska. Franziska. Franziska.” With every word she brings herself closer to perfection. Closer. Closer.
Gone.
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