DAED † KING

[daedking-blog]

like the anchor for a smol thing of some kind

[daedking-blog]

like the anchor for a smol thing of some kind

[thecommonchick]

finally a bath bomb to match my soul and wardrobe 

[estramor-deactivated20231029]

he is our patron, the giver of our gift. serve him well.

[mitchellwrites]

deathless ♚ sentence meme

[stygiac-deactivated20160715]

You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

You are going to break your promise. I understand.

You’re lonely too.

It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.

I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.

I am your servant.

I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.

For you alone I will be weak.

I belong here, and you will not deny me.

I say these things, and the world listens.

I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.

In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.

I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.

I moved the earth and the water for you.

You will always run away with her.

You will always lose her.

You will always be a fool.

You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.

You have already done all of this and will do it again.

No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.

We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.

What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.

There need never be any rules between us.

Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.

Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.

I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.

Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.

I can’t abide a poor liar.

You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.

Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.

Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.

Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.

In his own country, Death can be kind.

What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?

Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.

I am no one; I am nothing.

Nothing in me was not made by you.

A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.

Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.

Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.

I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.

If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.

What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?

Don’t you dare speak to me like that.

I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.

I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.

I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.

I have learned to watch everything die.

I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.

Are we not devils?

No one is now what they were before the war.

I have not seen you without your skin on.

Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.

We obsess. It’s in our nature.

I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.

In war you must always choose sides.

If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.

We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

After love, no one is what they were before.

I have survived, but I have not been spared.

In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.

Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.

It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.

You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.

You will be so beautiful when you are old.

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.

I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.

She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.

I still want to kiss you.

My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.

What happens to anything beautiful?

I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.

[guiltcor-deactivated20180106]

                                        「  STARTER CALL  」 ▒▒  @daedking

        Hushed whispers & promises of powers yet unknown were not unfamiliar to her ears, the man, the demon, the SHADOW had been there for months, always lurking in the dark, never showing his face, always speaking in nothing but whispers that reverberated through cold stone walls for only her to hear. She feared him no longer, not as much as she did in the beginning, she had become used to his presence, she could feel the darkness radiate from him whenever he was near, even if he did not speak. The sun has long since set, sky pitch black, only a scatter of stars visible from an open balcony, she could hear the rushing of the ocean, feel the cool winds from the north, Winter was hurriedly on its way, the north, she’d heard, had already experienced several snowstorms (one of them had been the end of her Uncle’s army, she’d heard ). Winter was only one of her many worries. The faith militant had more power over the south than she would like, brutalizing and humiliating lords and ladies and commonfolk, even the CROWN  was subject to its tyranny, her mother had been arrested and humiliated before the entire city, the queen and her brother were locked in a cell awaiting the same fate        she had to be careful these days, more careful than usual, lest she fall to the same tyrant. Stress was ever present for her nowadays, and it seemed to be why he had been so present as of late. A casket of wine ( gods she was becoming her mother ) had made her brave enough to return his whispers with a tone of irritation, directed at the shadows lurking beyond the glow of her candles. 

                    “  I’d be much more inclined to listen to you if i had a face to match with your voice.  ”

[daedking-blog]

he expects her suspicions, even now. expects her to be wary of his voice ; cold && haunting, icy like the northern winds she had yet to experience against her ashen cheeks. though she had grown accustom to his calling and the abyss of his presence, she were still bright and capable. still challenging of him whenever the gnats around her began to eat away at her guard. but, he could mold her still. use the trials and tribulations before her path, before her family, to shape her in an image of his own creation.

the monster smirks from the throne of another plain of existence, watching her with keen && divine eyes that flicker and echo the tortured glow of oblivion. with the omnipresence only he could share with her. his decrepit figure leans forward and his arms outstretch as though to tear his hold asunder ; to rip through time && space, to shatter the illusion of a prison, and reveal himself to the mortal. and yet, there is pause.

❝ have i not been merciful to you? have i not been a shoulder for your plight to rest ‘pon? have i dared yet lead you astray? ❞

he challenges the girl in return, the dark tone of his voice crackling in the airspace of her mind, but he will give her what she desires. if it will strengthen her bond to him, he will rise from his ashlands && go to her. from the shadows beyond the dancing light of her candles comes a fog, odd and menacing as its tendrils seep into the room, the mortal form of molag bal creeping from the astral plains into the confines of this quiet arena for two. back arches and he stands in full, heads upon heads taller than any man of this world or any other. with blackened hair and piercing eyes ; with tanned skin and robes that still conceal him among the twilight.

❝ you look sad, princess. tell me again what ails your heart. ❞

[eslore]

Visit Original Link

The Plane Meld, Sung by Malukah

Of all the Daedric princes There’s one with shocking gall His goal: The domination and enslavement of us all The God of Schemes The Prince of Pain The Captain of Corruption He tills the land of Tamriel And sows the seeds of destruction The plane meld is nigh The plane meld is nigh Our world will disappear The plane meld is nigh The plane meld is nigh Our doom is drawing near Chains of darkness grip the land And draw it ever near To his nightmare, Coldharbour Where hope bows down to fear Tearing souls of innocents Into eternal pain While his daedric minions Sing praises of his name The plane meld is nigh The plane meld is nigh As Molag Bal commands The plane meld is nigh The plane meld is nigh Our doom is now at hand

This song, and others, can be heard in various inns across ESO’s Tamriel. Audio from Velenis.

[daedking-blog]

soltimm: dont do dis to me

hircine gonna go on a new hunt 

for dat booty B^)

[daedking-blog]

but what if molag’s human form was v hot

[daedking-blog]

starhaze: honestly seeing your skyrim blog has given me so much!! inspo to do the same!! & start playing again

yOU SHOULD MAKE ONE!! especially bc so many of these blogs are on super mega hiatuses or inactive, generally. it’d be nice uwu

[daedking-blog]

me: makes one skyrim blog also me: i wanna make a karliah and serana and meridia and --

[kaldwins-blog]

Molag Bal is the Daedric prince of domination and enslavement of mortals. He is the creator of vampires as well. His main desire is to harvest and consume the souls of mortals and to bring mortal souls into his sway by spreading seeds of strife and discord in the mortal realms. Molag Bal resembles a large, bipedal hybrid of a bull and a reptile and usually appears in a form adorned with horns, fangs, claws and a long tail. His scaly appearance is matched by his demeanour, as this serpentine Daedric prince is the master of corruption and his entire realm of Coldharbour in Oblivion consists of nothing but death and destruction.

[Requested by ohmykasu]

[tesloreillustrated]

The Daedric Princes Malacath, Mehrunes Dagon, Molag Bal, and Sheogorath are collectively known as the Four Corners of the House of Troubles to the Dunmer. The worship of these four Daedric Princes is traditionally outlawed in Morrowind and the Empire because they are deemed too extreme and fanatical. The Dunmer view these Princes as gods to be appeased and placated rather than to be revered, and associate them with the various trials and difficulties of living in the ashlands of Morrowind. 

Keep reading

[daedking-blog]

"When your enemies lie broken and bloody  before you, know that I will be watching."

[daedking-blog]

tag dump 002

[daedking-blog]

tag dump 001