#frostveiledask

[blacktaloned]

(@Frostveiled for Wrathion) "y'know, I'm all for sightseeing. I can appreciate a good view. Maybe you should walk by again because I'm definitely liking what I see."

＊｡･ﾟﾟ･“Of course you do. I’m not against the dead thing that you’ve got going on, but shouldn’t there be a lot more brooding and a little less…whatever this is?” ･ﾟﾟ･｡＊

[blacktaloned]

(@Frostveiled) 🎉🎉🎉🎉 SMOOCHES MY HUSBAND

Send ’ 🎉 ’ to kiss my muse at midnight on New Years Eve | @frostveiled

Ꮚ —  He sometimes forgets that he’s never been in an actual relationship before. He forgets that there was never a reason for him to celebrate the small holidays that the people of Azeroth often did. Uriel, while dead, was most definitely the liveliest thing in his life. How ironic. Despite the stereotypical definition of Death Knights being heartless, emotionless, and cold, Uriel was the very opposite, at least around him. The bells chimed throughout the hills as the clock struck midnight, and he was pulled quickly toward his lover in  very public display, though he didn’t mind it. With his hand resting on the cool elf’s cheek, his fingertips eased their way up into the linings of his hair. Sharp fangs nipped at the other’s chilled lower lip, but his hand held Uriel’s head close so that there was no escape from his clutches.

[blacktaloned]

(@Frostveiled) "Daddy."

Ꮚ — if you know whats good

[blacktaloned]

(@Frostveiled) 😘☠️ for wrathion bc its only fair

send me icon things while i drown my tears in w(h)ine | kiss my muse && die in front of my muse | @frostveiled

 ＊｡･ﾟﾟ･ The tingle of the last cool kiss against his lips still fresh in his memory. They’d been like fire and ice, both figuratively and literally; complete opposite of each other, and yet he’d wanted no one else to come into his vicinity and waste his time the way that the Death Knight had. The day that he was torn away was even more painfully abundant in his thoughts than their last embrace had been. Wrathion had never considered himself the sentimental type–he could not be, when he’d been required to destroy the corruption within the black dragon flight and wipe out the entirety of his “family”, if you will. But the loss that he felt even now was quite possibly the worst kind of pain, something that even he would not wish on another.

     The black dragon prince had been so sure in himself, and so determined that both the Alliance and Horde would muck things up; but he’d been prepared for the return of the Burning Legion with their grotesque magic users and giant abominations that sliced through everything in their path. Uriel should have been as ready for their assault as he was, having lived through the dark reign of the Lich King. But he thought himself indestructible, or at the very least in that moment he had. They’d come for him, the Black Dragon that united enemies in a fight against them; they came to snuff out his fire, and very nearly had. Had it not been for the idiotic Lich that had found himself smitten with him.

    The ball of magic had soared through the air after him, like a projectile that had long since been honed in on its target. Wrathion flew as fast as his wings would allow, but not even he could outrun the magic of a sorcerer with intent to kill. He’d heard the flapping of much larger and bony wings alongside him, a screech, and then a thud. There was only one person on the surface of Azeroth who he’d known that would have given up such a price for him, and as the whelp dove toward the ground, he had not wanted to look at the crumpled form that lie there.

    Wrathion, with his feet kicked up against a table, examined the shimmering jewels that adorned one of his hands. He’d been lost in thought, reliving the final moments of his happiness on that day again and again, as he so often did day and night. Beside his chair rested a large figure, bound in layers upon layers of foreign material that was often found within the eggs of dragons. Its shell held a red but translucent hue, and inside, still as beautiful as the day he had been years prior, stood the Death Knight Uriel.  ･ﾟﾟ･｡＊