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important notice:

hey guys!! back from visiting France!! The experience was incredible, but time zone changes are so exhausting and I missed tumblr!! I'll get replies out to the people I owe hopefully later today, and if anyone wants to start a thread/etc like this post or message me. thanks! 

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Elsa and Anna Concept Art

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    "I won't argue there-- although I don't know why you're defending theives-- and you  haven't answered my question, Anna..."

      { ✿ }; “Maybe some people have a weak sense of morality.’”

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    Of all the things she had anticipated, this was not one of them. 

    The queen was completely unprepared, and that initially gave Hans the upper hand. 

    The prince in front of her was all at once less imposing and more terrifying than he had ever been. She longed to reach out a cool palm and rest it on his undoubtedly hot ones, to ask him what it was like, did he hide it, how was he born with it, what was the nature of his powers?  

 But there was no time for that, and honestly Elsa doubted Hans would be up for it, anyways-- she was the one who craved acceptance, after all. 

    Still, her surprise (and the sudden idea that maybe Hans could understand her) was overwhelming, and she found herself with the ice beneath her toes about to give way under the fury of his fire, without even quite knowing how she got in that situation. 

    She jumped once more, on the defensive, stepping back in the direction of the fountain, hands out in front of her, ice webbing between her splayed fingers.

     "Hans-- please--" she pleaded, sweat beading in the crease of her elbow. 

    But there was no mercy in his expression. 

    The flames licked up the sides of her palace; water ran down the walls in rivulets and pooled by the stairs. The sudden heat was disorienting, surprising-- it unsettled her. 

    In a somewhat uncoordinated attempt to defend herself, Elsa threw forward several spikes of ice, backing Hans towards the entrance as best she could. "Listen-- Hans--" she began again, imploringly. "You don't have to do this-- you know-- you said so yourself-- how it feels to be trapped. You don't have to be trapped anymore! I--

      I  u n d e r s t a n d." 

    After raking the prince's expression for any kind of hesitation or willingness to cease battle, the queen swept a palm at the walls, sending flurries towards the hungry flame-- anything to keep the ice holding. She was all too aware of the weakening structure, and the fact that, at any second, they could be battling at the bottom of a ravine. 

collided trepidation ⎢elsa & fire! hans

─────── ;; ♚ ;; The prince had s n a p p e d.

         His eyes were not fixated on the Queen, nor did they focus on the fear in her expression. The minute that fire escaped his palms, he jumped a bit, taking a step back as his eyes widened. N-No. I thought I could control it—after all these years—

                     He was through with controlling the flames.

           The fire that bound him, the heat that ran through his veins—-he welcomed it freely now. There was nothing Hans could do to stop his uprising anger— and not at the Queen, but fury towards his own self. Fury that circled back to the prince, the anger and frustration of being an heir, of being an extra—it was his fuel.

              He wanted to be significant. Hans did not want to be the thirteenth prince, he wanted to be   a     k i n g.

             Hans’ dark emeralds flickered to Elsa’s, but her azure eyes were wide in shock. Her cry filled the air as her gaze was torn from his hands, and instead she leapt from his ball of flame. It was only then that their eyes fully met, and for a second Hans felt fear.

                         Fear that he couldn’t control the flames anymore.

         Fear that this was his breakthrough—and that it would not end peacefully.

              “Els—” The auburn prince tried to explain when a shard of ice was tossed at him, and instinctively he fell. He rolled underneath it, then stepped back onto his feet as the ice crashed behind him. His trepidation and fear disappeared, replaced by the determination once more. Anger screamed through him, demanding for the Queen to be dead, and by his own flaming hands.

           ”Your majesty, I was born with flame. But, tell me, which element fails to succeed in the end, fire or ice?”

            The fire on his palms became brighter, stronger, larger by the second. It turned to a dark red, filled with complete and utter fury as Hans lashed out. The two scorches from his hands met together to create an outburst of flame, though he did not direct it at Elsa. Rather it collided with the icy floors around her, the ice failing to hold under the heat. And the fires traveled, continuing to burn through her great castle as it swarmed up the walls, leaving only hints of white in it’s path. 

              He didn’t aim for killing the Queen immediately, this was far too victorious. The pleasure that coursed through Hans each time her powers faltered from his own flames—it was too amusing, too wickedly great to end so soon. No fear of Hans’ was existent, all worries cast away as he smiled deviously. 

                                        More than anything,

                                   he wanted Elsa to f e a r him.

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important notice:

I apologize for not being on this blog as much the past couple of days-- my school work has kept me busy and I'm also preparing to go out of the country for spring break!! so I'll try to get all owed replies out before I leave on Friday, and then this blog will remain on a temporary (probably 2-week) hiatus until I return back to my country and get all caught up on sleep and stuff :) 

thanks for reading and I hope everyone has a lovely spring break

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9 Jin Kim Elsa icons colored by moi

(c) oftheisles​

Don’t repost

Please like/reblog if you’re saving any

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Put a symbol in my ask box ;; extended edition.

¤ if your muse has romantic feelings for my muse § if your muse and mine have slept together, or if you muse wants to sleep with mine ‡ if your muse hates mine ♔if your muse would marry mine ✓ if your muse is/wants to be my muse’s friend ♥ if your muse and mine would have children (bonus if you describe them) ♒ if your muse would die for mine, or at least risk death ♏ if your muse wants mine as the maid of honour/best man ♌ if your muse dreams about mine (could be nightmares!) - ø for my muse needing yours to sleep ♐ for what my muse would do to save yours ♓ for our muse’s wedding ♊ for my muse forgetting your muse’s birthday, or vice versa × for a cuddle from my muse ♈ for a dream my muse had about yours Þ for a frantic text message from my muse ♠ for a confession about your muse from my muse ☢ for my muse’s reaction to yours abandoning them ✺ for our muses being snowed in together ۝ for my muse trying to convince yours not to leave/kill themselves/etc. ✉ for a goodbye letter from my muse ✿ for my muse’s idea of the perfect date with yours ✈ for a place my muse would like to go with yours ✍ for a diary entry about your muse ☁ for a drunk confession from my muse to yours ☽ for a half-asleep thought my muse has about yours

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Jack Skelington (The Nightmare Before Christmas) / Elsa (Frozen)

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    His anger only fueled hers.

    The vicious heat in his tone lapped at her insecurities, but rather than shy away from the harshness in his tone (however honest it was) it only made her want to stand up for herself. 

    She opened her mouth to speak-- no, to scream-- but before she even said a word she hesitated, eyes drawn to the smoke lifting from Han's gloves. 

    Her eyebrows furrowed, fingers curled towards her open palms and her stance slackened. She could hear him speaking, sensed the hot bite in his words, knew he was threatening her. But all she could focus on was the smoke waving from his fingers.

    She tried to make sense of the flame that came shooting from his hands onto the floor.  

  Her icy gaze flickered from the scorched ice to the scowling prince, confusion dominating her expression. He was glaring, his lips were moving-- but she couldn't make sense of what he was saying, could not comprehend anything, not even the fire that encased his fingers and  reflected off his snarl. 

    "To hell with you." She heard him speak, and she jumped to the side, reflexively, as a ball of fire hurtled towards the staircase and crashed  into the railing. The ice fizzled on contact, succumbing to the heat, and cold water pooled around the toes of her shoes. 

    "Hans--?!" Elsa cried, jumping again, silver braid flying. She blinked, appraising the prince in an entirely new light. 

     In automatic defense she threw forwards her own projectile, ice surging from her palms and missing the mark of Han's chest-- perhaps quite on purpose. Even as she entered the battle she began to question him. 

    "How can you-- how long have you--

          "You have powers too?" 

——— The guilt that flooded the Queen was obvious to him, her widening eyes reflecting off the fear of her kingdom. Her kingdom—her responsibility, her crown and her authority—yet here she was, throwing it all away. 

            His eyes narrowed darkly at Elsa, inflicting pressure on the blonde as much as she could. She was going to burst—he knew it, he could almost feel her inner confliction. And then it snapped.

            Her cry rang through his ears, frost detaching some of the walls of the building. His eyes widened slightly, then anger flooded through him. Hans’ teeth gritted, lips curling back in a snarl as all patience was��gone.

             He cut her off midway of her cursing at him, his voice ringing over hers. "How dare I? How dare I watch over your kingdom? How dare I keep your people alive? You’d rather them die?!” His voice was screaming now, flame beginning to burn through his glove as fury began to override common sense.

             Finally, an explosion bursted from his hands and the fire shrieked out, slamming into the icy floors with a large crackling noise. White scorch marks scratched over the frozen ground, cracking more and more by the second. In a low, growling voice, the prince began to raise his hands, turning them to flaming fists as he spoke.

                        “To hell with you.” 

             The auburn’s hand shot out, a ball of fire screaming through the air and colliding with the icy railing of the stairway next to the Queen. It attacked the ice, turning it to water and spreading up the rail and onto the stairs.

                                                       ”Long live the Queen.”

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Send me "Show me love"

And I’ll generate a number from 1-30. All cute and fluffy!  Numbers under the cut- no peaking and cheating!

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  "Uhm, hii...."

──────── ╭✿ ;;     [ pooooooooooooooke’s side of character’s face ]

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my tongue is so cold let me put it in ur mouth

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[ read tags ]

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  "Moral compass. I suppose, but I don't believe that there's anyone that doesn't have a sense of morality. Defend it all you like, but it's a dishonest habit. 

  You haven't ever stolen, have you?" 

                   { ✿ }; “Yeah, but some people don’t have that ‘strong… compass thing.’”

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Pros to ship with me

Our ship is probably gonna be rly cute

Cons to ship with me

I’ll talk about it all the time

I’ll give you what ifs and how woulds all the time

I WILL SQUEAL AND TALK IN ALL CAPS TO YOU EVERYTIME SOMETHING BAD/GOOD HAPPENS TO THEM

I will think of AUs and share

I will make playlists of them a lot

It will always have pain and tears

Probably will have to ask for 983454858645794 threads

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  Elsa relaxed against her sister's touch, resting a cool cheek against the top of Anna's bright red hair. 

      "If you get cold, you can move." She said, softly, although as she spoke a pale arm wrapped itself around freckled shoulders. Whether or not Anna really meant she'd stay by her forever, Elsa felt inclined to  hold her-- quite literally-- to that statement. 

"I'm cold. Come closer."

"Of course."

       [ The Princess moved closer to snuggle against her sister’s neck, wrapping her                                                        arms around the blonde’s waist. ]

"I’ll be here, forever."