#iceciel

[outofsnow; honestly. EVERYONE CAN SEE YOU, OKAI. NOW DONT BE A TUSH EMILY AND COMEEE

[outofsnow; nono, emily—come out now.]

[ ;outofsnow: pssst… this elsa will gladly rp with you… because i’m feeling the exact same thing. ]

SHHHHHH!!

And bondage. >:D

I am legitimately terrified now. Why did I let you play dark!Elsa. Damn it.

awkward-princess-of-arendelle replied to your post:awkward-princess-of-arendelle replied to...

OH BESTOW MY HEART YOU TWO HORNY BEAUTIFUL THINGS YOU. <3 <3 <3

Skin like ice.  Hair turned white.

Anna is dead.  Anna is dead, Elsa realizes detachedly before the horror crashes into her like an avalanche and suffocates her under the weight of its sadistic morbidity.  She clings onto the frigid statue that once held a kind, beating heart, feeling only grief when she touches the icy frost.

This is not Anna.  It should have been me, Elsa thinks.  Elsa, who’s cold, stubborn, unmoving – so unlike Anna.  Anna is warmth, goofy smiles, unabashedly expressive, flexible, patient.  And yet here she is, in ice sculpture form, corrupted by no one but Elsa herself.

Her sweet baby sister, the girl who’s terribly, inordinately clumsy for a princess but still endearingly perfect for it, the girl she who loves chocolate just like she does, the girl she spent thirteen years protecting by shutting out.  The girl she never got to apologize to, never got to say ‘I love you’ to, after all those years.

She’s dead.  And it’s all her fault.

A metallic clang breaks her out of her reverie.  A sword.

Hans—

“You!” Elsa screams, turning around to face the traitor, her expression switching rapidly from one of anguish to a vicious, animalistic snarl.  The previously dormant ice in the fjord shakes, ships half sunken into the water rattling ominously as her rage spiked.  “You lied!” she sneers, her hands shaking with her uncontained fury before they ball into fists.  A cloud of wintry dust whirls from the icy floor of the fjord, and with a flick of her wrist she sends the swirling frost his way.

The blast sends shards of ice fracturing from the ground that slice her cheek, a trail of blood dripping and freezing against her pale skin, but Elsa can’t seem to care—not when her own life has no longer has purpose anymore now that Anna is dead.  Hans spins away, narrowly managing to dodge her attack, but intensity still knocks him down and incapacitates him.

Yes, defenseless.  This is what you deserve.

Elsa opens her palms and slices down vertically, a rupture in the icy floor bursting open on her command.  She delights in the terror she sees in Hans’ eyes, the shaky, nervous quaver in his body when the crevice grows ever wider, closing in on him and threatening to suck him into an abyss where he’ll never be found.

But then he grins, a faraway glint of hope in his eyes, and the sudden reversal in emotion causes panic to overtake her, the dread sucking away her ability to control the magic.  Something is wrong, something –