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[ walks into the snow till i die ] hello you may remember me from such blogs as frostcalled, hawksought, veritaspia and now frostcalled again plus a handful of blogs prior to those. could i get a like / reblog if you’re into interacting with my ashe again, only this time new and improved following the warmother lore? ashe turned into a BEAST while i was away, so i'm excited to write her again. 💃 rules, 18+ only pls!
#self promo.#ill rb again later when its not the middle of the night for half th rpc#my pals who ill make rb this (🔫) arent even awake rn
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there is frost growing on my knife coat, please help
if you’ve enough cloth to spare to have a whole coat dedicated to your knives i doubt there is very much we in the freljord can do to help you.
put on another coat?? / @sanguiresse
#fucking lowlanders up here complaining about the COLD#WE'RE IN THE FRIGID NORTH VLAD!#BRING A SCARF!#sanguiresse
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@arrowdeft replied to your post:
i mean, i /think/ it’s supposed to be more of an insight into lissandra’s idealogy/what the frost priests are taught, how you have to accept the painful cold of true ice, regardless of the negative effects. sorta like how the frost priests surrender themselves to lissandra.
this makes sense! i think what bothers me about its application to ashe (and might be the reason why i don’t Get it) is because i can’t really imagine her surrendering to anything. especially since her voice lines hammer home the feeling that the only person you can rely on is yourself, fuck destiny, the gods guide but don’t control us etc. like it’s odd to me that she takes a phrase like that to heart, what does surrender mean to ashe in that sense? maybe she doesn’t get it either, and she keeps it in mind to try and work out tf maalcrom was talking about.
#arrowdeft#it definitely makes sense coming from maalcrom#but i've yet to work out why ashe recites it#ooc.
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full disclosure: i have no fucking clue what ‘the ice is not pain, it is surrender’ means. not a dickie. i’ll work it out as i go along but if i ever write it in a response just know that i’m nodding and smiling behind my keyboard like ‘this totally fits here, yep.’
#ooc.#it sounds like what i sound like when i try to write poetry#fancy and froofy but ultimately nonsensical
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I WAS LITERALLY JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU AND UR ASHE AND I SAW YOU ON THE DASH AND DID A DOUBLE TAKE
WHEN I AGREED TO COME BACK I WAS LIKE GOSH I SURE HOPE SANGUIRESSE IS STILL HERE AND YOU ARE!!!!! YOU ARE!!!
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wife i am really poor pls give me shirt
i do not see personal benefit. answer is no.
#i will not be able to see your chesticles? so.#anyway icb this is the first thing im posting#in literal years.#razeflesh
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"Won't you stay?" Her whispers are muffled into his shoulder blades, hidden as though she knew the answer and wanted the question ignored. Lips littered kisses from flesh to scar and scar to bone, his wounds fresh and her longing lost beneath them. He is fire where she is the cool stream that falls from a glacier, and she needs him to soothe her chill. "Only one more night. It is so cold, and you are so warm."
The feelings that Pantheon descended from Targon with belonged to someone with a younger heart, and a much more foolish one. Time apart made the heart grow fonder. Though his long and tiring journey carried with it a more diplomatic reasoning behind it, that adage echoed in Pantheon’s mind on the darker, lonelier nights, a hopeful adage that just maybe she would feel such a sensation.
Pantheon felt her breath against his skin and the soft kisses she placed across his back. He didn’t move, not shifting to embrace her or shifting to depart. There he sat on the edge of her bed with a portion of her sheets wrapped about his waist. Pantheon’s head bowed to look towards bare feet against the floor. His eyes slowly closed and in place of a response to her whispers, he only exhaled.
Her. Not the woman who was on Pantheon’s mind as he left Targon, the one who remained on his mind since he was a boy. But the woman who had welcomed him into this tundra and pressed against his back now.. Though her eyes were guarded and demeanor as regal as the title she held, Pantheon could understand the emotions behind her voice, he could see that feelings felt held intent, were mutual.
With Leona, he never could tell.
“I have to go.” He finally murmured to her, head turning slightly to the left to glance over her bare form with a sidelong glance.
The skin of the Freljord was a stark contrast to Pantheon’s. Ashe was light to his tanned complexion, though the weeks spent here lightened his tone a little. Pantheon let his gaze linger, though, she was beautiful. Not as muscled as the Rakkor, but she was defined, with her way of life she had to be strong. Looking over her made Pantheon feel a small tug, a craving to give in to her quiet plea and spend another night. Or another few nights with her.
But, he turned his head forward again and one of his hands slowly rose to rest atop of Ashe’s upon his shoulder.
He hadn’t told her about Leona. What was there to tell when nothing existed between them, save for courtesy and respect for one another’s positions. There was nothing there. Then why, why did Pantheon feel twinges of guilt in his core as he sat with Ashe now?
Gingerly, his hand wrapped about Ashe’s and after giving it a firm squeeze, he removed it from his shoulder. His belongings were in its own bundle in the corner of the room. One more night spent with her was another night that Pantheon couldn’t spend on the road.
He inhaled softly, then exhaled again before standing.
“I miss…” Her.
“My people.”
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MODERN AU;
ASHE
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