ᴀᴠɪᴄɪᴅᴇ.

[theftandwanderingaroundlost-dea]

i feel too vulnerable and soft for this world, sometimes… i have a child’s heart

[tsarova-blog]

RE: BESSMERTNY, KOSCHEI.

the aroma of mustard adrift a memory .      THE BURN OF THE MATUTINE ;   an  odor  arisen  from  the ardor of dyadic torture .      palms like plaster ‘pon a cut of carnose ;   levying the fire .      levying the mire .      sewing the foment ,   banking the dead ,   strewing the shoreline  bloody  with men .      he ,   the belliferous boned in a bathic throne ;   the isle of buyan ,   their barbate home .      tappon of the tetricity ,   a bathyal trite hymn aloft the brume of his kingdom .     thanatism in the crease ,   in the mold ,   in luster of pale gold .      death is silvering the trees ,   limning atrous tresses with argent ,   &  rotting the rimosity of flesh with  ease .      his gift ,   to the  maw of the marauder ,   iniquity   &  the ichor of the sea .

❛   ‘ mm ,   you  should  rest   &  see  strength  restored . ’   ❜      he  bails  the  balm  from  the  prow ,   sails  to  dawn   &  avails  the  row .      settles  in  rotten  wood ,   leaves  the  coast ,   &  damns  the  aeviternal  suspire  in  his  mouth .      A  DREAMER  DROWNED .      the morn is breaking      ——   awaking  him  to  an  eternal  night ,   awaking  him  to  fate ,   to  sunrise ,   &  to  an  earthly  demise .      awaking  him  to  her  girasol  eyes ,   to the end of time .      he  is   doomed   to  survive .

                                 ❛   ‘ i  will  be  here  when  you  return    - - - - - - - -   decaying . ’   ❜

the barathrum may at times coruscate brumous, bruising, a study in piceous shades & PAMPHAGOUS PECCANCY. it stitches itself coquelicot cambresine to her calyx frame; she be no cadaver, & viy, he swears, shall never have her. --- SHE BELIEVES HIM, O’, HER PEACH-FLESH SO SEMPITERNAL. SO RORULENT. SO INFERNAL. if he be heliac, may she be paraselene; a primaveral maiden noctiflorous. if he be kismet’s knosp, be she its promise? its brumal battue, LANIARY at her thigh? --------- the victrix is ever vulnerose, my dear. she is ULOID, undeified, a sparagmos without its PALINGENESIS.

her digits, a MEW in the melanic mass atop his crown. he, a vetust, vernal venator without his victory. thee, so oscinine in thy fulgor, an erythropsia most contradictory. tell me, lyubov moya, dost thou recall the sapor of sastrugi? dost thou recall thy irredivious nature?  ( chyerti are such IGNIVOMOUS VARMINTS, are they not? mortals are such COMBURENT TERRATISMS, are they not? )  ❛ i don’t need to rest. ❜  her voice, berceuse. at the mouth, a ridency of halation. long-suffering. long-recovering. --- repose is an ephemeral balm; it chafes the flesh, a hiemal, haematic halitus ‘pon thine skin. ‘tis another anodyne the bride seeks. ------ a vellication, brontide, 'pon her kermes lips.  ❛ ever the dramatic. ❜

[tsarova-blog]

[tsarova-blog]

RE: BESSMERTNY, KOSCHEI.

RAVAGER  OF  CESIOUS  FLESH ,   of  the  adumbral  dusk  is  marred ,   is  vowed ,   to  the  womb  of  the  world .      her  belly  full  of  ash   &  famine  licks  the  abusion  from  ribs ,   from  virgin  skin .      &  his  lady  lazarus  pauses  only  in  avacide .      RENDS  THE  RULER  of  conquered  ka  asunder ,   splits  the  sullied  son  in  two ,   causes  the  wrox  of  the  world  with  a  berried  hue   &  heated  sinew .      he ,   the  malley  of  manes  (  a maya modena  )  bows his beak .      WOUNDED  BY  WIFE ,   BY  KNIFE ,   by  consort  of  noctiflorous  sloom .      his  slumber  isn’t  honored  as  rue .      the  sussurus  welk  at  man’s  milled  might ,   curdles  rot  ‘pon  papa’s  heavy  lungs ,   now  adust .      this ,   the  bite  of  night  so  long  over  due .      bowed ,   bowed ,   bowed is he ,   before augur’s doom .

sempiternal ,   culled  vernal ,   wanion  of  the  stygian  tide .      left  to  die  (  LEFT ALIVE  )  by  the  bid  of  his  bride .      he  sits  on  a throne of  onyx   &  bone    ——   &  withers  ‘neath  a  veil  of  youth ,   an aged   &  bloody  crone .      his  skin ,   a  vulnerose  grey   &  hands ,   a  chilling  fey     —————   koschei ,   the father of decay .

                                                                 ❛   ‘ maybe later .’   ❜

an adumbral aegis, she, BRIDE OF THE AGES. peach-soft, a creature pared, ripe for the taking, the consuming --- so pamphagous he, she, so esurient.  ( the sapidity of malacissation; the bloom of the VERNAL VETANDA abaft thine dentition. she, desiderium; dolent in her debellation.  ------  how goes the war, my love? fall upon my shore, my love. forget thy frore, my love. )  the epoch of erotemes, of a halitus mewed anthwart a lariat of a larynx. a bell, she fell ------ the kenosis of the knosp’s anthesis. the vespers of his VETUST RUST. there is no aponia to the anthropolith; the welk does not DISPEL the wound.  ( do not mistake me, sir, for i do not say thy berceuse may not be crooned ------ forgive me, sir, for i do believe thy victrix hath been marooned. )  the THYRSUS of her palm ‘pon his sternum; diablerie of a dance, digits LIMNED LANIARY --- the fulgor of the flesh. her suspire, like the lyre; the caress borne to vernal sire.

the crow in her crux; how the carrion doth coruscate there, abaft her brain ------ how it doth susurrate, an ullagone for the uloid ultimation. her touch, ablow ------ her oscinine metacarpus uprist, to the pyrgoidal throat & its pulse.  ❛ the war gets no better by brooding about it. ❜  badinage, stitched VELVETEEN --- the psithurism of the paraselene.

[tsarova-blog]

MAY THEE HOLD ATHANASY IN THE CIPPUS OF THY PALM; MAY THEE CAUSE MINE FLESH TO EMBALM. there is a wolf in the snow, the farm, the wood. there is a wolf in thine eyes, thine smile, thine girlhood. she that stitches maiden’s marabout to down-dusted limb, she that COURTS DIABLERIE & learns how to sin.  ( wears a VAUNTLAY VISARD, teaches herself to grin. )  the peccavi of the pamphagous; how fissicostated thine fulgor hath become. a blemish, thee; leningrad’s tephra, macula, ‘pon the MIRROR of thine visage. be thee parison priestess? nay; in the sinews of thine mortal flesh, unpick, may you, damascene damnation; a frore limned of FANTASY & FANCY. the sapor of steel betwixt thy teeth; how AMARANTHINE thee must become. how alamort. she, who hath birthed a death herself. she, who hath writ necrologue betwixt her thighs; a name, a single name, & only she to blame.  ---------  independent, private, semi-exclusive & HIGHLY SELECTIVE roleplaying blog for MARYA MOREVNA of catherynne m. valente’s ‘deathless’. delineated by mollie.

[czrenys]

Aren’t you lucky, to have fallen in with such exciting people?

[tsarova-blog]

A GIRLHOOD ABSCINDED; how the calyx of it doth wrox in the mouth. there is an abusion, here; ‘twixt the pines of thine dentition, A BRUISE IN THE BRUMAL BRIDE. how the cthonic cruelties can sapor of saccharinity; the confection of the cruor, how the iris doth bloom, incarnadine, abaft thine ear.  ( an aceldama limned only by seer. )  the maculation of her, THE BLOODWOOD -- pray tell, when they pared thy flesh from thy bone, plucked feather from thy rorulent rachis, did it hurt? DID IT HURT? how much? --------- the sparrow spies, the sparrow dies. among the living, only lies. 

too much life, too much strife ------ yet at her door, a rook, & ne’er more.  ( she, darting free of the mew of the mire with such lethiferous ease ------ & yet dirtying leucochroic metacarpi for HIS name alone. )  'pon her palms, be that ichor? be it plucked from militaster’s breast, or the womb of pomegranate’s zest? --- come hither, come hither, pray thee never wither. a garrotte born of niveous flesh; she who coils, viper, ‘round the cobra’s coattails. the lily of thine lips, blossoming at the shell of his ear ------ the basiation of the benthos.  ❛ come back to bed. ❜

@kashchey​.

[tsarova-blog]

there need never be any rules between us. LET US BE GREEDY TOGETHER; LET US HOARD. let us hit each other with birch branches & lock each other in dungeons; let us DRINK EACH OTHER’S BLOOD in the night & betray each other in the sun. let us LIE & LUST & take HUNDREDS of lovers; let us dance until snow melts beneath us. let us steal & eat until we grow fat & roll in the pleasures of life, clutching each other for purchase. only leave me my death — let me hold this one thing sacred & unmolested & secret — & i will serve you a meal myself, served on a platter of all the world's bounty. only do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me, & no empress will stand higher. forget the girls in the factory. be selfish & cruel & think nothing of them. I AM SELFISH. I AM CRUEL. my mate cannot be less than i. i will have you in my hoard, marya morevna, MY BLACK MIRROR. --------- independent rp blogs for KOSHEI BESSMERTNY & MARYA MOREVNA of catherynne m. valente’s novel deathless. penned by RIZZO & MOLLIE. 

[thelovejournals]

I decide then that love is a terrible, terrible thing. Loving someone as fiercely…must be like wearing your heart outside of your body with no skin, no bones, no nothing to protect it.

Nicola Yoon, Everything, Everything (via thelovejournals)

[tsarova-blog]

ANTONINA VASYLCHENKO as MARYA MOREVNA

but the thought arrived inside her like a train: marya morevna, all in black, here and now, was a point at which all the women she had been met—the yaichkan and the leningrader and the chyerti maiden; the girl who saw the birds, and the girl who never did—the woman she was and the woman she might have been and the woman she would always be, forever intersecting and colliding, a thousand birds falling from a thousand oaks, over and over.

[tsarova-blog]

tag drop 003

[tsarova-blog]

tag drop 002

[tsarova-blog]

tag drop 001