mortaloved-blog

[mortaloved-blog]

   guess I’m goin’ under construction for a bit,   then.

[mortaloved-blog]

🥀 - mortaloved

FINAL MOMENTS MEME: ACCEPTING ! | @mortaloved

THAT day would come, she knew. 

SOVNGARDE was not a terrible fate. Marya had gained her place among the most honourable of heroes. She would feast in the Hall of Valour at the side of Ysgramor, and Gormlaith, and Hakon, and Felldir, and many others in whose great presence she would be blessed to stand. It was a good thought. It was a good place to go, and it was a good death. 

“SOVNGARDE awaits…” And she almost saw the bright skies, the Hall…she almost saw her promised place in the afterlife, but soon the vision dimmed and faded. Her soul was not that of a woman, but of a dragon. There were certain truths that history held, truths Marya had not cared to face, not entirely. And one of those truths was the chance of her not truly being headed to Sovngarde. 

“…but not me.” Where once she had thought peace would have been found, now she grew restless again. The only way for a dragon to die was that one of their brethren devour their soul. Marya had become none other than the very Sovereign of the Dragons. “My body is weakened now…Mara!” She firmly grabbed the other’s arm. “You must…you must guide them…my children! They won’t understand…” Her voice grew low, reduced to a fragile whisper. “…but they have to carry on my legacy, they have to let this peace live! You…tell them…”

[mortaloved-blog]

acxlyte:

     “Actually…now that I think about it, it was more like…eight hundred feet,” Well, that certainly wouldn’t be easing Mara’s anxiety. Vali chuckled, gently patting her on the shoulder, his pellucid fingers tracing the fabric of her linen robes. Slowly, the effect of the shout died away, and he returned to his normal, solid self. “Well, these artifacts are better off in the hands of those who will use them for good, or better yet, never use them at all, simply keeping them from the reach of evil-doers, wouldn’t you agree? Dawnbreaker is just…too useful not to use.”

     “   ---   I suppose I  ought  shroud my worries, seems the power of the voice has you well protected,   ”   she quips tersely, considering for a brief moment wrenching her shoulder from his grip and skulking off to one of the darker recesses of her temple, alas, she has never been one to harbour grudges. nor tell her followers how to plunder their way throughout the nirn, though she wishes for it to be sweeter than it was, with an absence of eight hundred foot drops or daedra worshippers. a dark brow quirks.   “   hopefully not within the confines of my temple, Valeriu. you ought know by now of my distaste of them and their artifacts.   ”

[mortaloved-blog]

         MARA          Mara is considered the mother-goddess and goddess of love. Some consider her as a universal goddess. Her origins started in mythic times as a fertility goddess. In Skyrim, Mara is a handmaiden of Kyne. In the Empire, she is Mother-Goddess. She is sometimes associated with Nir of the “Anuad,” the female principle of the cosmos that gave birth to creation. Depending on the religion, she is either married to Akatosh, or Lorkhan, or the concubine of both. She appears in nearly every culture’s pantheon in Tamriel.

                                            tes aesthetics | the nine divines

[mortaloved-blog]

acxlyte   /   vali, no  !!

@mortaloved

      “—And then I told Meridia that I wouldn’t be using Dawnbreaker in her name, and she dropped me from at least three hundred feet up…How did I survive, you say? Fiem – Zii – Gron!” Within the blink of an eye, the dunmer became akin to an ethereal being, caught between the physical and spiritual worlds.

       spectre or not,  the divine wears her worry as plainly as a priestess a veil; transparency both a vice and a virtue. there is prayer for his well-being, that the dunmer might return to her unscathed, though with each harrowing tale she finds that her heart does sink and nestle in her gut. he clings to his indestructability, but where he might consider himself immortal  /   unkillable, she knows better. hands shift to the swell of her hips, teeth worrying her lower lip.     “  one of these days I fear that your goodbyes might be your last   !!   must you taunt the daedra so  ??  ”

[mortaloved-blog]

I really wish you'd be more active.

     I sat on this for a few days. My activity is sporadic primarily due to my mental health. long story short, it kinda sucks, and I’ve been on a few of my busier blogs in an attempt to kinda distract from that  !!  i try my hardest but I can’t push muse when it’s being fickle, but I shall try harder if needs be.  

[mortaloved-blog]

oathbroken:

@mortaloved. call.

        ‘ are you alone? ’ 

    it’s hard to tell if he’s asking because he’s concerned for her or for himself. ( it is himself, of course. he is a bad thief, not cut out for a life of sneaking and stealing, and he often worries the guild will realise as much. he doesn’t want to die in this frozen, hideous wasteland. ) though there is plenty of room to be had by his fire– and how welcome it must be, on such a cold night!– he doesn’t offer it. not yet, at least. 

       skyrim is known for cold, yet snow does not bite against bare feet   (  though her skin purples and blotches red  /  ah, the joys of immortality, renders her immune, though from past experience her preferences have startled mortals young and old  ).  mara does not carry mortal currency, or anything heavier than a shawl of sabertooth pelt that feels soft against her cold-flushed cheeks. crown tilts, dark braids tumbling and cascading over her shoulders.  “  as alone as one ought to be in weather like this,  ”  she offers, amusement woven in her tone.

[mortaloved-blog]

send one to see how my muse reacts  /  soft edition.

[ trail ] for your muse to start a trail of kisses down my muses neck. 

[ shift ] for your muse to move hair off my muses face.

[ stroke] for your muse to gently stoke my muse’s face.

[ chin ] for your muse to gently grab my muses chin.

[ tuck ] to place a blanket on my muse.

[ wrap ] for your muse to walk into the room and say nothing before wrapping their arms around my muse. 

[ fidget ] for your muse to comfort mine during a bad dream.

[ braid ] for your muse to braid mines hair.

[ sponge ] for your muse to give my muse a sponge bath.

[ drape ] for your muse to help pull off / unzip my muses clothing

[mortaloved-blog]

nordblade:

THE BEST OF FRIENDS!

MYA already imagined them giving each other gifts and playing all the games and…and…braiding each other’s hair! The child was excited, looking forward to all the adventures they go on together. The best of friends, the two of them alone. It was, somehow, better than playing with her friends. Sometimes, they didn’t play fair! And Mya did not like that at all.

“YES!” the child rushed to answer. But…LITTLE DRAGON. “I am not a dragon!” she laughed, “Mother says dragons don’t exist.” She pouted then. Her mother insisted too much on this matter. “She thinks father’s telling me too many stories about dragons, but I like them! They’re better than what she has to say.” Smile returned to her, she reached to touch Mara’s hair. “Can we…braid hair now? You have beautiful hair, and I want to braid it. Father showed me how.” The child stood proud then. “And he says I’m good at it!”

    never will there be anything softer than the innocence of a child, though through lavish silks and soft feath pillows nobility seek to replicate it. the mother goddess knows better than to try and clings desperately to the naive hope that it will not dissipate from her eyes before her time, though the world takes its kicks from stealing the stars from them like berries from a bush. the aedra’s laughter is sunlight, warm and inviting. for as long as she is allowed she will cherish the moments between them, before the dip of the sun behind the horizon signals her need to return to her immortal plane and a beloved husband, though her son remains woefully absent.

     “   truly so  ?  well, we’d best listen to your mother in this case, but a dragon is much better than a spriggan, I must admit.  ”  a cheek dimples with her smile, and almost immediately do fingers pull ties from her hair   (  lazily twisted into a bun so it won’t get in her way as she busies herself in the temple, or, as with today, playing in the markets with children !  ), and it spills over her shoulders like a waterfall of mahogany, soft, shining and slightly twisted.   “  you absolutely must show me !  i’ve never quite gotten the hang of braiding it myself.  ”

[mortaloved-blog]

ASKBOX TREAT for @baewind // @mortaloved !!

personal blogs: do not reblog  ❤

[mortaloved-blog]

nordblade:

@mortaloved smashed the ❤ : SELECTIVELY ACCEPTING !

MARYA took her hand. “So, does this mean you’re my friend now?”

IT was THE question. They had played tag. This certainly must have meant they were friends now. Very seldom did elders find time to play tag or hide and seek! They were always busy: selling in the market, crying out loud their offers. Guards were certainly out of question. Their duties filled all their time! Elders were never fun. 

BUT, her new friend was! She had played with her. “Please, say ‘YES��� !” the child pleaded, “My friends are away with their parents. And I have nobody to play with now!” The girl pouted, the plea persisting in her big blue eyes as she looked up at the other. “You…you seem fun and nice, too!”

    colour her surprised !  breathless and pink-cheeked, the goddess will laugh as she had when they were ducking around the market stalls, much to the chagrin of those peddling their wares in the square. a lot of them forget that they themselves were once children, rolling in snow and muck and getting a good scolding for being far too boisterous to the point where their ears were often given a good box ---- the world cherishes children, but it does not treasure childhood.

   warm fingers lace with Marya’s, and Mara crouches so she might reach her level; idle fingers of spare hand coming to rest against her cherubic cheek.   “  best of friends  !  why, I must say you are my best friend. am I yours, little dragon?   ”  she will not take offence if answer is a resounding no, childrens affections are as fickle as fire; ever changing, yet sweeter than honey. 

[mortaloved-blog]

    “    ------- remove yourself from my path, I SHAN’T ask again.   ”   /  @aeonloved

[mortaloved-blog]

   just leaving a tiny reminder that I am not a fast roleplayer !  while I do try to have some modicum of urgency with replies, I’d honestly prefer to take my time and give you all something decent in return, rather than something forced and rushed. the being said, all of you who have sent me in a meme – they will be put in my queue to be staggered over the space of a week or two ( I wasn’t expecting to get as many as I did !  *crash bandicoot voice* WOAH !  ) for now, I am going to finish off my theme, feed myself and get everything queued up to go go go !  again, I’m sorry about the wait, I am a slow loser. but I am a slow loser who loves you all very, very much ! 

[mortaloved-blog]

cups his cheeks and runs the pad of her thumb over the sharp line of his cheekbone.

Touch my Muse in the gentlest way possible.

Not Accepting!

                                    ▌ 𝐒   𝐈   𝐋   𝐀   𝐒   ▌                        

╟ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ◤𝓛𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝓛𝖔𝖘𝖙  ◢ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ╢

Love.

     A prominent and.. universal goal of near all living creatures on Nirn.. or so he liked to believe. Not all Love was romantic of course.. familial and friendship-related affections were just as valid. To strive for the care of another, to be filled with so much joy at the mere sight of them, not necessarily obsession but.. to maintain a strong bond that would leave to DESPAIR if existing without them..

     Mara was Love. All of the motherly kisses that caused a child’s tears to disappear. All of the comforting murmurs of tales before bedtime. All of the maternal kindness and warmth that all mortals secretly craved. Silas had never experienced such behaviors from his own mother.. 

     With the contact of silken skin against his own flawless flesh, thumbs gently running over the apples of his cheeks- it made the Wizard truly realized how.. STARVED.. how deprived of love he had been. As a rather paternal mer himself, he rarely recalled his own need for support.

❝  …❞

     At first, he experienced SHOCK, almost jerking away from the abrupt invasion of his personal space. However, Mara was adamant, stepping forward to chase. The Elf’s mouth partially fell open, blinking once in surprise, requiring a few moments to process the gesture. Eventually, his posture relaxed, along with the muscles in his face- causing faint wrinkles of exhaustion to become more defined. Eye lids fluttered shut as one of his own hands drew up, gently clasping one of the diety’s and holding it there, lacing his fingers with her own.

He was so   t  i   r   e    d    .   .

╟ ┈┈┈┈┈ ◤𝓘𝓽 𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓵  ◢ ┈┈┈┈┈ ╢

[mortaloved-blog]

*  put away your teeth /  my bite is worse than your B A R K.

     He towers over her, easily, golden gaze piercing - harsh, unforgiving as he gives her a once-over look. He bowed to no one, be they Man, Mer, Aedra or Daedra. For all intents and purposes, she appeared before him as a human woman, far from what he’d initially expected. This was the well-revered Goddess of Love? How small and frail she looked, like his gaze alone could snap her in two.

     Arms are held loosely behind his back, and a step is taken forward; whether it was in a threatening manner or not was difficult to ascertain.

     ❝ I presume you’ve come to bother me for a reason, ❞ he states, tone cold. ❝ I am a very busy man. If you take up too much of my time, I may have to forcefully remove you from the premises. ❞

                                                                @mortaloved sent for a scary starter!

     she will wear the guise of priestess for as long as time will allow; visage unchanging often leaves room for rumour of vampirism and has seen a mortal body staked to death and Mara retreating back to her immortal plane to lap at her wounds. they underestimate her, usually, when really, should the push come to shove   (   it never has, truly  )  she could cast aside whatever benevolence she breathes and bring forth a wrath that would bring them to their knees.         yet she never has.

   she supposes it’s curiosity that brings her before him with her hands tucked into the folds of her robe and her eyes scrutinising.        “   so you are the one who broke his heart.   ”

[mortaloved-blog]

*  or perhaps just a flatterer.

      oh,   how  zevran  loves  it  when  a  face  that  once  was  normal  becomes  discolored  by  the  ever  threatening  blush   —-   and  how  he  loves  to  cause  it.   one  of  his  favorite  tings,   he  things,   is  when  the  face  of  a  lovely  man  or  woman  or  anything  else  turns  from  it’s  regular  fleshy  color  to  a  bright,   bright  red.   smirk  graces  his  features   &   slender  arms  cross  over  chest  as  he  leans  against  a  tree   &   offers  a  chuckle.   ❛   i  truly  think  so,   yes.   ❜

    sweet words will bring her fragile heart to flutter with delight -- she’ll smile, and tuck a heavy leather-bound tome under a skinny arm and use her free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. oh, this must be that flirting thing that the other girls in the circles once spoke of  (  such and such was flirting with so and so ;  but he’s a templar and he can’t flirt back  !  ).   curious, perhaps she’s just been so blissfully oblivious to it all this time.   “   you are going to make the days of many women -- and men  -- that little bit brighter if you make a habit of complimenting them !   ”

[mortaloved-blog]